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I’m almost there when my arm is gripped hard. Turning my head, I’m staring into the crazed eyes of Frankie Johnson. Damn, did he always look this wild? “Long time no see, Jilly Bean.”
“Don’t call me that, Frankie,” I hiss, staring at my dangerous neighbor who I’ve always kept my distance from—until today.
He drags me closer, his breath against my cheek. “What’s wrong? You too grown up for that?” The stench is enough to make me sick, but my instincts kick in and I remain in control of myself.
“No, it sounds gross coming from you. Anyway, you better let me go,” I demand, yanking at his hold, but he’s insanely strong and he only holds on harder.
“Why would I? We’ll see how much you’re worth to the Masterson boys.”
“That’s silly because I’m nothing to them.”
“No? I was listening to your parents talking about the new job and how they were sure you’d be engaged to one of them by the end of the day, and what do we have here? An expensive engagement ring.” He attempts to tug it free from my finger, but I curl my hand into a tight fist.
“Stupid bitch. I’ll get it off one way or another.” His free hand flies backward and strikes me across the face. My head spins, twisting almost like a damn owl. The ringing in my ears is so loud I almost don’t hear him. “Come on. I want to get paid, so don’t go passing out on me.”
“He’s not going to pay you. Trust me, I’m not that important to him.”
“We’ll see.” He chuckles and drags me off to his old bungalow, which has seen better days. Most of the concrete steps have deteriorated, so I stumble on them and then he rushes me into the open door. Strangely, no one else is inside. He has a family and most of the Johnsons still live here, including his abused wife.
He drags me deeper into the house until we reach the kitchen, and then I realize we’re not alone. “Another one?” her voice says, sending my morning meal upward. It was one thing when I thought she was just another domestic violence victim, but she’s complicit in his activities.
“Shut up, Sue. This one is going to give us a big paycheck.”
“Oh, yes—it’s the Mastersons’ little bitch.”
“To think I used to feel sorry for your lousy ass,” I snarl at his wife. My father tried to intervene, even getting Frank arrested and charged. She always dropped the charges because that’s what so many battered women did, and it was a vicious cycle until it either ended in violence, like Sawyer’s parents, or the victim made a safe exit.
“Don’t feel sorry for me. You’re the one going to see he doesn’t care about you once you’re spoiled.” Frank runs his hands down my arms, and I shrug my body away but it’s too late. His touch sears into my skin like a filthy brand.
He grabs the basement door and opens it, and I know my chance to get away is going to be slim because no one will hear me from down there. “Even if Sawyer doesn’t want to waste his money on me, my father will end you.”
“Jilly Bean, those words cut deep.” Sawyer’s standing at the top of the basement steps with a big handgun trained on Frank.
They both shout and in his shock, Frank releases his hold, sending me into Sawyer, but his body easily takes the hit and he slings his arm around my waist, holding me to his chest while still aiming the gun at his target. “You’re getting several spankings when we get home, Jilly Bean.”
“How did you find us?”
“What the fuck makes you think it would be difficult? If you knew I stalked my wife, then you know I had someone watching and when you took her, I was only seconds behind.”
“I didn’t do anything. I’m his victim,” his wife says, trying to move past her husband to get between Frank and the gun, creating a commotion.
“Shut up, bitch. I heard you threaten my wife.”
Frank shoves his wife into us and takes off running through the house. I push the bitch off, sending her to the floor, but she clings to my hair and takes me with her. Sawyer helps me get up, but not before I give her a swift kick in her crotch. The fucking cunt.
“What about Frankie?”
“Don’t worry about him.” We hear a loud crash in front of the house, and then I hear several other voices. Suddenly there’s movement behind us and shouting from Sue. “Let me go, you stupid fucking pig. I’m going to sue you for assault, you fucking pig.”
Her Miranda rights are being read by none other than my father.
“Let’s get you out of here and seen by a doctor.” He tucks his gun behind his back into a holster I didn’t know he carried.
“I don’t need one.” We continue toward the chaos that’s happening outside. We watch from the screen door to see two men in suits have Frank pinned to the ground.
“Just do it for me,” Sawyer insists. Several police cars pull up, so we step out onto the dilapidated porch. The ambulance slides up behind them, killing their sirens.
“Nobody move,” the officer instructs.
