Page 53 of I Stop Somewhere Waiting For You

I shift to try and get comfortable, but I’ve been sitting here for hours, and my legs are starting to go numb. I wince as the ropes which bind me to the steel bar protruding from the wall rub my wrists raw.

Fucking Tommy.

I shake my head. Leaning my temple against wall, I wince as my tender, bruised face makes contact with the dirt-encrusted concrete. Closing my eyes, images of Tommy beating the shit out of Daphne assault my mind.

“Let’s go!” Tommy demanded, reaching for my wrist.

“No!” Daphne screamed, jumping on his back. She scratched at his neck and face, her pink stiletto nails drawing blood.

“Fuck!” He reached back behind him, flipping her up over his head and slamming her into the ground. The impact to her head stunned her, and it was all he needed to gain the upper hand. “Stupid bitch!” He started kicking her, driving his foot repeatedly into her ribs as she tried to cover herself.

I scrambled to my feet, grabbing the oversized vase on the decorative table behind me and smashing it over his head. Tommy faltered, stumbling off to the side as I dropped down next to Daphne. She was still breathing, but out cold.

“Daph,” I lightly smacked at her face. “Come on, babe. Wake up. I need you to wake up.”

I was ripped backward as Tommy’s arm encircled my waist, pulling me up and off her. “No!” I screamed as I turned in his grasp, punching him in the face. He dropped me, landing on my back where I continued to kick up at him.

He managed to secure his hand around one of my ankles, pulling me toward him as he smacked my other foot away. Once I was positioned underneath him, he cocked back. The last thing I remember is everything going dark upon contact.

I woke up here a little while ago already tied to the wall. Tommy has yet to make an appearance, even in the presence of my sporadic screams of obscenities directed toward him. It’s been about twenty minutes since I last acted up, so seems as good a time as any.

“TOMMY!” I scream out, ignoring the ache in my jaw. “Come on, you motherfucker! Where are you?!”

Expecting to be ignored once more, imagine my surprise when the piece of shit actually enters the room.

“There he is, the traitor himself,” I spit in his direction.

“I’m the traitor?!” He advances quickly, allowing himself to come further into view under the random patches of moonlight streaming in from above. “You’re fucking Maverick Bishop! You’re carrying his fucking baby!”

“Damn straight I am.” I hold my head high, making it clear I hold no shame in that regard.

“How could you do that? How could you let that filthy piece of trailer trash touch you? Is that what the rape did to you? Hmm? Made you a fucking whore?!” he screams at me, his body vibrating with rage.

I chuckle at how easily he’s coming undone, suddenly amazed I ever took his sniveling whining for sweet sensitivity. “Oh, Tommy.” I shake my head, sporting a wide Cheshire smile. “The things I did to Maverick Bishop would make a whore blush.” He charges me, backhanding me hard across the cheek and disorienting me in the process. After a moment, the stinging subsides, my vision returning.

“Fuck!” he bellows out into the darkness, his palms digging into his eyes before refocusing his attention on me. “I would have treated you like a princess! Nicky loves me! Everything could have been perfect, and you fucked it up for what? Him? I saw that disgusting brand behind your ear, by the way.”

“I am not a princess!” I roar back at him as I shove to my feet. My wrists are still bound to the wall, forcing me to slump forward somewhat, yet I continue to hold my head high. “I am a fucking Queen. And he is my King. Everything could never be perfect with you for the simple reason that you are not him.”

Even in the darkness, I can see him wince at my words. I push forward in my verbal assault. “He’s going to find me, Tommy. And when he gets here? He’s going to kill you for touching what’s his.”

“Oh, he’s going to find us, J. Because I told him and your brother exactly where we are.” He withdraws his phone from his pocket, checking the time. “Actually, they should be arriving any minute. So,” he advances toward me, flicking his switchblade open as he comes closer, “let’s not keep them waiting.”

He cuts the ropes free from my wrists, gripping hold of me by my elbow and leading me toward the door. I lightly massage the previously bound skin, careful not to anger the raw rope burns left behind.

We exit out a side door of the warehouse into a field. It’s much brighter out here without the old rusted tin roof obstructing any of the moonlight. My eyes scan the surrounding area, my breath hitching in my throat as a pair of headlights come into view in the distance.

“Don’t get too excited, princess.” I snarl at his use of the nickname I hate. “Prince Charming isn’t walking away from this tonight.”

I laugh quietly to myself, prompting Tommy to jerk my arm in response.

“What’s so funny?”

My eyes remain fixated on the approaching pair of high beams. “I hope he tells me where he buries you,” I glance back at him, “so I can fuck him on your grave.”

The car comes to a stop about thirty feet away. The engine cuts out, but the lights remain trained on us. I hear the distinct sound of two doors slamming, followed by their silhouettes coming into view. I raise my arm in front of my eyes, trying to get a better look in spite of the brightness currently blinding me. Their distinct features begin to come into focus as their steps close the distance between us.

In all the ways I envisioned Mav and my brother coming together, I gotta say… this never made the cut.

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