Page 59 of Simply Perfection
He was locking the studio door when Fredericks’ phone went off. “This is Fredericks.”
Niall stood with the snow blowing around them, unabashedly listening in on one side of the conversation. He looked up at the sky and prayed that Trevor wasn’t out in this crap somewhere without protection. Since they’d left Trevor’s apartment, a good three inches had piled up on top of the five that had come down that morning. Niall rubbed his hands together and bounced on the balls of his feet. His condo was only minutes away, and he wanted to get back there. The captain was immobile as a statue, despite the freezing temperatures and wind blowing at them off the harbor.
Captain Fredericks closed his phone, turned to Niall and smiled. “That was Logan. We got him.”
Chapter Sixteen
Trevor’s wrists burned and were slick as blood dripped onto the palms of his hands. He refused to give up. He screamed behind the tape and with a great wrench; he gave one last twist. Something gave in the binding. His chest heaved with exertion, and he tried again. There was definitely slack now. Gathering every ounce of strength in his weakened body, he pulled his wrists apart, and the tape gave way. His hands were free!
He yanked the blindfold off and pulled out the earplugs. For the first time, he got a look at his jail cell. It took several seconds before his eyes focused and images took shape. Stone walls, slick in spots with moisture. He took a deep breath and ripped the tape from his mouth, trying not to scream in pain as the adhesive took off several layers of skin.
Trevor bent over, making his head swim. Having not slept or eaten since they had taken him, he was most likely hypothermic. He tried to grip the edge of the tape wrapped around his ankles, but his fingers were so stiff they didn’t want to work. He triedagain. This time he got the edge stuck to the tip of his finger and used that to unravel the tape. Within minutes, he was finally free.
Trevor longed to slump in the chair and try to catch his breath, but his kidnaper could return at any second. He needed to be ready. Needles of pain stabbed his fingers as the feeling came back. He tried to contain the whimpers, but knew a few escaped.
Trevor adjusted his clothing and tried to find his shoes, but there was no sign of them. He stood, and his legs promptly gave out. Trevor clung to the chair and pulled himself upright. He braced himself against the furniture until his legs felt as if they were made of more than Jell-O. His eyes searched the room for clues to his location, but the dark room concealed all secrets. The wooden plank on the window behind concealed the outside world. He limped over and reached up to see if there was any way he could get out that way. Located high up the wall, Trevor had no hope of reaching the portal, even with steady legs beneath him. He carried the chair over and used the wall as support to climb up and brace himself once his head was level with the opening.
There was no way he was getting out that way. Not only would he somehow have to break the plywood and the glass, but Trevor knew he didn’t have the strength in his body to climb up through the minuscule exit. He collapsed onto his knees on the chair and got back down to the floor. He turned in circles trying to find another way out. The only other option was the door at the top of the stairs.
Trevor made his way over, using the wall for support. He put one foot on the stairs, then another. Although there were only six, it seemed like the climb took forever. His hand trembled when he reached for the knob. Nothing happened. Locked. Trevor slumped on the steps, and tears streamed from his eyes. He’d tried. Tried so hard to get home to Matt and Niall.
After several gasping breaths, Trevor swiped at his damp cheeks. The bruise from his kidnaper’s slap throbbed with the rough treatment. There was only one more option. He slowly made his way back down the stairs. The stairs were built into a narrow, stone channel. Trevor collected the chair from the other side of the room. He stood with his back against the wall beside the stairs. The position was a blind spot to anyone making their way down into the basement. He would wait—wait until the fucker made an appearance—then Trevor would take him out.
The longer Trevor waited, the more his body wanted to give up. His eyes and limbs grew heavy, but he dug his fingers into the wood. Splinters gathered beneath his fingernails, but Trevor used the pain to keep him focused.
There was a creak. A rattle at the top of the stairs. Trevor felt a draft as the door swung open. He lifted the chair, preparing to swing with all his might. Footsteps descended the wooden treads. He had to time this right or everything would be for naught. He counted off the seconds in his head. Six steps, six seconds maybe a fraction more. Three … two … one…
“Evening, my pet.”
Trevor swung. He swung that chair as if he were aiming for the Green Monster at Fenway Park. There a crack as part of the chair collided with the concrete wall and a thud, followed by a moan. Trevor jumped out, and his eyes widened as they got their first look at the man who tried to destroy his life.
Trevor straddled the man’s waist and started wailing on him. His fists connected with flesh over and over. His knuckles split, and blood from his kidnaper mixed with that already on his palms. The once handsome face below him turned into pulverized mush as Trevor released every ounce of hate, fear, and uncertainty through his punches.
“Why? Why you son of a bitch!”
Steve moaned, and Trevor wrapped his hands around Steve’s throat. His hands squeezed to where Steve’s face turned red. Flat brown eyes shot open. The orbs bulged and the tiny capillaries broke, turning the white of Sean’s eyes red. Large meaty hands gripped Trevor’s wrists, and he screamed, but refused to let go. Only the adrenaline rushing through his body prevented him from collapsing on top of Steve.
Trevor beat Sean’s head against the steps. “You tell me why!”
Gurgling sounds came from Steve’s throat, and Trevor loosened his hands a fraction.
“You’re mine,” Steve choked out.
“Like fucking hell I am! You broke up with me, you fucking psycho! I never, never belonged to you!”
Trevor kneed Steve in the balls as hard as he could. The man’s scream was music to Trevor’s ears. Trevor scrambled over the top of Steve’s body as he writhed, clutching his groin. With one last kick, Trevor sent Steve tumbling down the rest of the stairs.
As fast as his legs could carry him, Trevor raced up the steps. He slammed the door behind him and locked it from the outside. He turned in circles. The building was dark, but Trevor made out the shapes of furniture. He was in a kitchen. Old peeling wallpaper hung in strips from sagging walls. There was a chair, and Trevor grabbed it, then stuck it under the knob to lodge the door shut even further.
He stumbled through the next room in what was apparently a house. Small windows crowned the walls, but Trevor couldn’t discern anything outside. He fumbled through the room, bumping into boxes and covered furniture. Trevor reached the front door and yanked the barrier open.
He ran out into a blinding white snowstorm. His bare feet sank into snowdrifts up to his shins, and Trevor cried out in shock. He’d never make it anywhere in this storm. He turned to go inside, filled with dread at the thought of being trapped insidewith the psycho in the basement. Trevor’s ears perked up at the sound of sirens. He looked toward the end of the street and squinted into the whipping currents of snow. The sirens were definitely getting closer. Heedless of his state, Trevor took off into the blizzard. Through the haze, blurry red and blue lights flashed.
Trevor sucked in a huge breath, the air freezing his lungs as it entered his body, then yelled, “Help!” Waving his arms over the top of his head, Trevor let loose, “Help! Help me!”
The cars slammed to a halt. Brakes screeched and rear ends slid to the side. A car door opened, and a man jumped out. He started running in Trevor’s direction. Trevor sank to his knees in the snow. His clothing became soaked within seconds.
“Trevor!”
