I shuddered at his touch, ordering myself not to cry. I refused to show him any sort of weakness, not just for me, but for my Elliott and the cruel, horrible things he did to him. Crying would only give him satisfaction and refusing him that, I realized, was the only power I would have over him.
He pulled me onto the ground and the melted ice and snow from the road soaked into my clothing. He grabbed a handful of my hair again and started dragging me to his Mustang.
I clawed at his forearm, pleading with him to release me, but his thick jacket protected him from my short nails furiously trying to scrape through, the red from my fingernails streaking the leather.
Trying to get a better grip on him, I turned over onto my stomach and started walking on my knees but several times I faltered and my face ended up flat against the icy pavement. The four times it happened he pulled harder and I would moan in pain.
It felt likes weeks before we arrived at his car and he dragged me toward the trunk.
“No!” I yelled.
I’m not sure why I protested. Instinct? Weeks ago, when all hell started breaking loose, Elliott told me if anything ever happened to him and Jesse got to me that I should encourage being transported in his trunk because I could kick out a tail light and push my arm through to get the attention of passing vehicles without Jesse having any knowledge of it.
When I remembered this, I shut my mouth but he brought me to my feet anyway and slammed me into the car, his fingers at my throat, suffocating me.
“You’ll pay for that,” he threatened.
I shook my head, tears threatening the corners of my eyes and breathed through my nose deeply to gain control. His hold was crushing my windpipe. Thankfully, the tears subsided as I stared into his vacant eyes.
He studied me before angrily pushing his lips to mine and I kept my mouth tight. It was a punishing kiss, nothing more than a way for him to let me know that he was in control. He pushed hard against my mouth, cruelly crushing and bruising my lips. I winced in pain as he drew out my bottom lip and bit down.
Then, for reasons only he knew, he withdrew. His empty eyes pierced mine before he inched closer, threatening more punishment but, to my surprise, kissed me gently instead. Of the two, the latter was the most revolting, the most disturbing, too intimate and caused me to involuntarily lurch.
“Oh God, this is going to be fun,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.
He snapped my body to the back of his car and with one hand gripped tightly on my upper arm, he opened his trunk and removed a length of rope and a roll of duct tape. I tried to take advantage of his distraction and swung my elbow once more towards his face and this time it made contact with his chin.
Immediately, his mouth started bleeding and his grip on my arm softened but when I turned to run it just as quickly tightened again and he grabbed the other arm with his free hand and yanked me into his chest. He buried his face in my neck and I could feel warm blood from his lips trickle down my throat. I swallowed hard and tried to break free of his grip but the effort was pointless, he was just too powerful for me. He breathed into my neck and bit down hard on the muscle between my throat and shoulder. I yelped in pain.
“I’m losing patience with you Julia,” he whispered. “If you’re not careful, I might just kill you here and deliver your body to your parents' doorstep. Would you prefer that?” he asked, gripping my arms tighter, not expecting an answer. “I can just imagine it; your dad, stepping onto his porch to find his daughter dead and exposed to the world.” He shuddered, from the pleasure of the visual I assumed. “Come to think of it, I’m preferring that route more and more but,” he sighed in resignation, “no. Though it is a good idea, I plan to have my fun instead. You’ve caused me a great deal of grief Julia Jacobs and you will pay dearly for the trouble you’ve inflicted.”
“I’ve done noth....”
He yanked me closer to the trunk and bound my hands together, then he forced me to kneel at the ground and strung the rope toward my feet and bound those together as well. He coiled his arms underneath my armpits and dragged me to his car, laying me on my back in the front seat.
I felt deflated that he didn’t put me in the trunk. I couldn’t see anything but heard his footfalls crunch the snow toward the trunk once more. The wind whistled in protest against the blizzard swirling around the car. I heard him shift some things around then close the trunk. I heard his feet crush more snow for a few more steps on the opposite side of the car before he opened the driver’s side door and settled into his seat before shutting it.
“Cold isnt’ it?” He asked, with all the familiarity of old friends going for a winter joy ride.
I refused to look at him, my jaw locked tight in resignation as he forced me into a sitting position by grabbing my upper arms and pulling me forward. I kept my eyes closed until I heard the stripping sound of duct tape being removed from the roll. My jaw trembled and I clamped my teeth hard to hide the weakness. He smiled and swallowed, causing the tattoo on his neck to dance up and down, and stretched a long piece of tape, leaving it attached to the roll and energetically pressing the end to my mouth. He wrapped my head twice as taut as he could and leaned in, leaving half an inch between our faces.
The only sound was the harsh inhale and exhale I made through my nose, his Cool Water cologne attacked my senses. I always thought Jesse had smelled so good, until now. I will never again be able to smell that fragrance without wanting to hurl. Using his teeth, he tore the roll end of the tape before securing the remaining few inches to my mouth.
He roughly pushed me onto my back and my neck dug into the buckle clasp of the passenger’s seat belt. Don’t cry, I begged myself. Don’t cry. You’ll find a way out of this. I was lying to myself. Proof that I would do just about anything if it prevented me from losing it, even if it meant I was deluding myself.
Tears welled. It wasn’t working and I found myself straining against the hollow feeling inside my chest. For Elliott, I told myself to fortify my resolve. That worked. We drove off just as the song was coming to an end, realization coming to the forefront of my mind.
“From the other side,” I whispered in unison with the music, a spontaneous promise to always love Elliott, no matter where I ended up, because although I knew I would fight with everything I had to stay alive, looking at Jesse in that moment meant death was most certainly a very real possibility.
After several hours of driving, my body warmed only slightly. I needed to get out of my wet clothes soon if I was going to avoid hypothermia. I was tired and emotionally numb but forced myself to sit upright. Jesse looked surprised and slightly amused to see me acting so boldly. No doubt, I would pay for it later.
“You got something you need to say jewel?”
I nodded.
“If I rip off the tape it’s gonna’ hurt like hell,” he smiled, quickly turning his eyes back on the road then returning his glare on me, “and I’m just going to put it right back on. You know that right? Three layers this time and I’ll make sure it’s wrapped around lots of that beautiful hair, maybe even attach a couple of those tacks in my cup holder to the sticky side against your head. Should I pull over?”
I shook my head from side to side. I could wait.
He laughed and picked up his speed, no doubt eager to begin whatever he had planned for me. There was no amount of mental preparation that would ready me for the things he had in store for me.
One question he once asked me repeatedly popped into my head over and over. “Have you ever heard of scarification, Julia?” He had asked this on that ridiculous movie date. There’s no need to lie to you, I suddenly felt the need to pray that my body not be too mutilated when the cops found me, for my family’s sake, for Elliott’s. Just as suddenly came the thought that never being found seemed a precious gift.
To calm myself down, I tried to focus on envisioning Elliott. God was good to him in how He gifted him, such an amazing person.
I imagined his tall frame holding me against him. I breathed in, desperate to smell his scent of ocean and the woods after a fresh rain that was so uniquely masculine, so uniquely Elliott. He smelled like home, reminded me of home. His eyes were the brightest blue you’ve ever seen. My parents had taken me on vacation once as a child to the island of Santorini in Greece. The color of the water there can only be described as the most surreal incandescent cerulean blue. Hands down, the most beautiful color on God’s green earth. That’s the color of Elliott’s eyes and they contrasted so well with his black hair.
His nose? Romanesque. His lips? Full. His cheeks? Strong. His chin? Stronger.
He was devastatingly handsome and totally clueless of that fact. I couldn’t believe he was mine. I was shocked, to be honest with you. I was so undeserving of him. He was such a good man. He did things for people that no modern person in society would do. I constantly teased him about his being born in the wrong century but the truth was, he really was an old soul.
And he was so in love with me. He mentioned once to me that he would kill tigers for me and as soon as he said it, there was a truth in his eyes that told me he wasn’t joshing.
Elliott Gray would die for me and I prayed to God that He would not let that happen.
Thinking on him was becoming burdensome on my chest, my heart already heavy with regret and missing him so much even my teeth ached. For some reason even my jaw throbbed.
Just as I decided it was time to sit up once more and check our location, Jesse turn the car abruptly and I could taste the panic rising into my throat, my body instinctively suspecting how close I was to my death.
The car pulled to a stop. He got out and ran over to my side. When he opened the door, I glanced over to him and he flipped open a butterfly knife. I turned my body to face him and scrambled as best I could over to the driver’s side door and busted it open. I let my back sink into the snow and I slid at a snail’s pace towards the sound of running water.
“Oh calm down Julia. I’m only removing the restraints,” he said, placing his hand on the hood to meet me on the driver’s side.
He dove for me and I braced myself for the stab but it never came. I breathed hard, the exhale from my nose freezing in the air as he cut the leg restraint and pulled me to my feet.
“Come on lovely.”
He made me want to vomit, a reaction I would have often with him from that point. He pulled me up the back porch steps and the back door creaked open. He pushed me into the room causing me to fall to the floor before closing the door behind him. There was no way to brace myself as my hands were still tied. I fell on my face and felt the hard wood floor lacerate my cheek and bust my bottom lip through the tape, muffling my cry of pain and filling my mouth with the salty warmth of my own blood. I had to swallow to keep from choking. He picked me up and faced me away from him. He buried his face in my hair and inhaled.
“God you smell good,” he said.
I breathed deeply through my nose to hold back the vomit, knowing I would choke if I did, as the tape was so tight against my mouth. He freed his right hand from its grip around my shoulder and ran his left hand across my chest to keep me from running. He started pullilng the fingers of his right hand through my hair and I jerked away from his touch.