Page 43 of Jonathan

Jon's voice trembled with rage. He clenched the note tightly in his fist, crumpling it as his thoughts darkened. Bull placed a steadying hand on Jon's shoulder, grounding him for a moment.

"We will find her, Boss," Bull said firmly. "But we need to stay focused and smart about this. Letting anger cloud your judgment won't help the little lady."

Jon took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he tried to regain his composure. He knew Bull was right. He had to keep his wits about him if they were going to have any chance of rescuing her. With a nod, he shoved the note into his pocket and turned to face the cabin once more.

"We need to search the place thoroughly," Jon instructed. "Look for any clues that might tell us where Sullivan has taken her."

The two men moved methodically through the small cabin, examining every nook and cranny. Jon's frustration grew with every passing minute. By this time, the rest of the men were heard thundering outside.

“Let’s go.” He said tersely, running from the cabin.

“Stay far behind.” He ordered as he mounted his horse. “Sullivan has Kamilah. He left a ransom note, but no other instructions.” He felt his heart clutching with dread as he recalled the rest of the message.

The part where he said he was going to have fun with her first. He knew exactly what that meant. For the first time in a long while, he found himself praying earnestly. He had to find her, please God, let me find her.

*****

“I have been stockpiling supplies over the past week or so. A little here and there.” The place was musty with mildew sprinkled over the tattered curtains at the filthy windows.

A few broken furnishings were scattered in the living area and the saggy sofa, which had once been red, had turned a sad and dismal gray. The place reeked of things she did not even want to contemplate.

“Sorry, it’s not up to your usual high standards!” He smirked as he tied her securely to a chair, which was hard as a rock and very uncomfortable. “But it will do for now. Like I said, it’s pretty isolated and forgotten.

Your man or anyone else, would never think of it. I understand it used to belong to an old timer who died years ago, and they did not bother to do anything about it. He was some sort of hermit and a distant relative to the boss.”

Moving towards an igloo in the corner of the room, he flipped it open and tugged out a six pack.

“Want one?”

“No thanks. What now?”

Pulling up a chair across from her, he straddled it, tilting it back on two legs while he popped the cork on the bottle and took a swig. Smacking his lips, he grinned at her. “I am just going to sit here for a while and feast on your beauty before we get down to business.”

He studied her, shaking his head at the bruise on her cheek. “I am really sorry I hit you. But you were asking for it, mouthing off to me like that. If you had treated me right at the bonfire, I might think about giving you a chance.

But women like you don’t notice men like me.” He took a swing of beer, his lips curling. “Not when rich assholes like Jonathan McCarthy is around. How is he between the sheets? I hear he’s quite the ladies’ man. But that doesn’t bother you, does it? He has all this pile of money to make it all better.”

He pointed the bottle at her. “Before I happened along, I did my research. And decided that it was time for me to retire. I have been wandering around, working for shitholes who think you don’t have blood running through your veins, like theirs. I decided it was time to get my own.”

“By committing a felon.” She forced down the paralyzing fear and realized she was going to have to use her wits if she wanted to get out of this intact. “It never occurred to you to work for what you want.

Let me guess – crappy childhood. Father wasn’t there and mommy didn’t hug you, so you are blaming everyone else for your misery…” She flinched when he doused her with the rest of the beer in his bottle.

“Shut the hell up, bitch.” He reared up so suddenly that he sent the chair crashing backwards against the wall. She braced for another hit as he came forward menacingly. Fisting a hand into her shirt, he started to haul her up.

That was the opportunity she needed. Shoving back, she raised her knee and slammed it hard into his groin, sending himpitching back onto the floor. A keening sound echoed around the room as he grabbed his crotch, the pain paralyzing him.

The momentum sent her crashing on her side, and she frantically tried to undo the knot of the rope digging into her skin.

“You bitch! You goddamn bitch, I am going to kill you.”

“Come on! Come on!” She whispered fervently, renewing her effort to untie the knot.

The knot was stubborn, her fingers trembling with both fear and determination. Sullivan's groans of pain filled the musty air, a temporary reprieve from his threatening presence. She knew she had to act quickly; every moment counted. As the rope finally loosened, she felt a surge of hope.

She freed her hands and scrambled to her feet, casting a quick glance at Sullivan writhing on the floor. Fueled by adrenaline, she darted towards the door. Her heart pounded in her chest asshe reached for the rusty doorknob, praying it wouldn't make too much noise.

As she pushed the door open, a sliver of moonlight cut through the darkness, illuminating her path to freedom. She stepped out into the cool night air, the forest around her eerily quiet. The urgency of her escape pressed upon her, and she broke into a sprint, not daring to look back.

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