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“Where is she?!” I push his body against a wall, slamming his head into the plaster board so hard the wall crumbles, a small head shaped dent now behind him. He laughs and tries to push me away.
“Governor, so nice of you to push your way into my home and assault me, unprovoked. I am sure that will be a fantastic piece for the front page of the newspaper in the morning. Why don’t you hit me as well, and maybe I can get a good shot of you leaving a jail cell in the morning,” he teases.
I pull my fist back and throw it into his cheek. My knuckles collide with his chin, and the laughter slides from his face, obviously thinking I wouldn’t do it. His face is now smeared with blood, his teeth chipped, his eyes angry.
“Where is she?” I yell again, my face right in his. The venom of my words spit out onto his skin.
“You hit me?” he asks, in shock, the look on his face now completely changed from snide snickering to devastation. What is it with this man? He is a complete psycho. My grip on him gets firmer, the material of his shirt becoming tighter around his neck as I slowly cut off his air supply.
“You fucking asshole. Where is Beth?” My nerves are running rampant through my body, my voice shaking the walls of this dilapidated house.
“Harrison!” Beth’s voice is barely audible over the pouring rain and sirens from outside. But I whip my head toward the hallway.
“Go, I’ve got him,” Tennyson says, having heard it too, and I release my grip on Max’s shirt briefly before Tennyson’s hand replaces it. As I move down the hallway, I see Tennyson kick Max’s legs out from under him and knee Max under the chin, his head snapping back and hitting the wall again before his body slumps at his feet. Good. He deserves more, but that is a start.
“Beth?” I shout, my body now moving on its own, my chest heavy, my teeth grinding. My legs run as my adrenaline has kicked into overdrive, the hard rain on the tin roof and my thumping heart making it almost impossible to hear anything. I run down the hall, throwing each and every door open, looking inside, seeing nothing but mess and filth in each room.
“Harrison!” I hear her again, and I run to the last door at the end of the hall, pushing it open and falling into a bedroom. The lights are bright, the TV blaring. It is old, smells musty, and I see Beth, tied by her legs to the wooden posts of the bed, looking exhausted and weary. Bleeding from both her hands, her ankles no better, I rush to her.
“Beth!” I breathe out, as I jump onto the bed, pulling her close to me as her tears coat my shirt.
“You’re okay. I’m here. You're okay.” I repeat as she looks up at me with relief, sobbing.
“Untie me. Please, untie me,” she says through her tears, her body shaking, her voice no better as I pull away, seeing her hands free from the rope, and her ankles still tied.
“What happened? What the fuck did he do to you?” I grit out, barely containing my anger as I get to work trying to untie the rough rope that grips into her skin.
“I got out of the wrist ropes, but I was struggling with the ankles,” she says, her tone panicked as she continues pulling at one leg while I do the other.
I yank at the rope, tugging it to open the knot, and blood, her blood, is smeared across her skin, her ankles and wrists red raw. My blood boils.
“He is going to pay for touching you,” I grit out, barely containing the rage in my body I never know I possessed. Even through the loud TV, I hear sirens and men yelling in the front of the house.
“He gave me something, a drug, and I passed out. I woke up here, tied to the bed about an hour ago,” she says through shaky breaths as I untie the last rope and pull her to me.
“Police are here, paramedics. You will be okay. We’re going to get you out of here.”
“Is he… is Max...” she murmurs, and as I look over her face, I can see her eyes roll a little, the drug clearly not out of her body yet.
“Beth? Stay with me, baby. Stay with me,” I say to her, as police fall into the room. Men shout and guns are raised, before they realize who we are, and as Beth’s body feels heavier in my arms, I look down and see her out cold.
45
BETH
“Does he always snore like that?” Harrison asks me as I lie in the bed, the starched hospital linen scratching against my skin.
“Every night,” I sigh, looking at my dad, who is finally asleep after I was wheeled into his room during the early morning hours under observation.
My hand remains in Harrison’s, where it has been since we arrived.
After the police stormed Max’s house, I passed out in Harrison’s arms and I am told he didn’t let me go until I was safely and securely with the paramedics, and even still, he sat by my side for the entire trip to the hospital. When I woke up at the hospital, he was here next to me and has remained sitting on the hard plastic chair all morning, his thumb stroking my hand.
“Isn’t your body sore from sitting in that chair all night, Governor?” I ask him, a small smile coming to my face as I use his new title for the first time. His win last night was totally overshadowed by my kidnapping, Max’s face now all over the news alongside Harrison’s and mine.
“I can’t feel my body. My ass is numb. But I am not moving,” he says, giving me a look indicating I am not to push him on that. I have a feeling leaving Harrison’s side any time in the near future is going to be hard.
My eyes flick across to my father. He is out cold, having not slept a wink until they found me. Harrison pushed the hospital to put me in the same room as him, knowing that both me and my father would want to see each other. Dad only fell asleep a few hours ago, after we told him about the whole ordeal, none of us quite believing any of it still.
