Saved By A Bad Boy

By counting_shades

1.7M 48.5K 16.8K

Our moms were best friends. There wasn't much more to it than that. Every holiday, vacation and weekend, I wa... More

[ About This Book ]
[ Prologue ]
[1]. If Only...
[2]. Where There's a Will...
[3]. Left Behind...
[4]. Three Times Unlucky...
[5]. The Thing About Jax...
[6]. Wonderland...
[7]. New Directions...
[8]. Well, Duh...
[9]. Uh Oh, I Almost Did A Bad, Bad Thing...
[10]. So This Is Awkward...
[11]. Stuns, Puns, and Orangutans...
[12]. The Girl Who Couldn't Dream...
[13]. I Can and I Will...
[14]. And I Did...
[15]. Finally Friends...
[16]. Oxygen...
[17]. Masks...
[18]. Starting Again...
[19]. Weak...
[20]. Sorry...
[21]. Don't Hate When I Don't Date...
[22]. Bathroom Encounters...
[23]. Guilty...
[24]. The Douche and the Diva...
[25]. I Can't Think Straight...
[26]. The Things I Never Should Have Said, and the Things I Never Would Have...
[27]. Cheerios...
[28]. Plans...
[29]. Milo's Dirty Little Secret...
[30]. Christmas Trees and Stuff...
[31]. Christmas Eve: Part One...
[32]. Christmas Eve: Part Two...
[33]. Ready or Not...
[34]. Sounds Like a First Date...
[35]. Touché...
[36]. Unfinished Business...
[37]. No More Secrets...
[38]. Figuring it Out...
[39]. Storytelling...
[40]. Mr. Predator, Sir...
[41]. Break Ups...
[42]. Confessions...
[44]. It's Over...
[45]. Hospital Room...
[46]. Forgiveness...
[47]. It's Okay...
[48]. Going Home...
[49]. Shall We...?
[50]. Just a Little Smudged
Epilogue

[43]. Escape...

25.4K 665 105
By counting_shades

Trigger Warning: This Chapter Contains Scenes Depicting Sexual Trauma

"Hey, baby girl." That's how Troy had greeted me the first night he came into my room. I was sitting on my bed, painting, and then all of a sudden, he was in the doorway. I didn't think anything of it, at first. I assumed that those were just regular terms of endearment.

Oh, how stupid I was.

"It's late. Shouldn't you be asleep?" he asked. I just shrugged.

"I'm trying to finish my project," I told him. He took a look at my canvas, sliding all the way inside my room and quietly shutting the door behind him.

"That's a real work of art," he said. And then his intense eyes met with mine. "Just like you." He had come closer, so now he was standing right beside my bed. A strange feeling churned in my gut. I didn't like it.

"Th-thanks," I whispered. All of a sudden, he had hooked my chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"You're a beautiful girl," he continued. I swallowed. "You look like your mom, in some ways. But you're even more special. You know that, right?" I didn't know how to respond to that. He loved my mom...didn't he?

"Oh," I barely whispered, because that was all I could manage.

I didn't think Troy would do anything else. Or maybe I just hoped he wouldn't. And that night, that first night, he didn't do much at all. Not compared to what he would do in the future. He just kissed me once, and then spooned me until the early morning hours.

That was it. And yet, it was already far too much.

< < < > > >

I woke up with my hands tied behind my back. I was fastened to a chair. At first, I had no idea what was happening, or where I was. I was almost stupid enough to call for Jax. But if Jax was here...I wouldn't be tied to a chair.

I moved my lips. My mouth was dry and void of moisture. My neck ached already, and my head was throbbing. What...happened?

I blinked, dazed, trying to bring my surroundings into focus. A dark room, like a basement. Nothing was down here except for some boxes and a tired old couch, with a single man sitting on its cushions.

"Oh, thank goodness you're awake." Troy stood up and started walking toward me, staggering slightly. His flannel shirt had moth holes gnawing away the fabric. Dark lines were resting below his eyes. Even in the dim light, I could see his unkempt beard poking out of his jawline. I felt my heart pick up pace almost instantly. Fear flung through every part of my body. No. No, no, no,no.

His thumb brushed my cheek. I already felt like throwing up. He had a cup of water in his hand, with a straw sticking out of it.

"Go on. Take a sip, Cherry. I don't want those pretty lips of yours getting all dried up," he whispered, nudging my mouth with the straw. It took too much thinking, to figure out what to do. My brain was slow in processing, but I managed to suck some water up, letting it relieve my parched tongue. And then it wasn't the straw on my mouth anymore, but he had replaced it with his lips. I quickly jerked away, but his hands came up to capture my face. "Not so fast, Cherry. Come on. I know you want this."

"No, no, I don't," I said, my voice strong even though I didn't feel strong at all. Troy frowned, and too my utter relief (and surprise), he actually pulled away again.

"Well, I guess it has been awhile," he began softly, more to himself than to me. Then his eyes snapped to meet mine. "Don't tell me there's someone else." I stared at him for a moment, trying to comprehend what he could possibly mean by that.

"W-what?" I asked, still too weary to think straight. One of his hands reached into his pocket. For one split second, I actually thought he was going to pull a gun on me. But instead, his fingers grabbed at a phone - my phone - and he held it up for me to see. My text messages were staring back at me from the lock screen.

Jax: Lis, are you still with Maya?

Jax: I just stopped by Milo's. Maya was home. She said you had to leave?

After that, I got four missed calls from him.

Jax: Lis, where are you? I told you not to go anywhere alone.

Jax: This isn't funny.

I was overcome with the desire to suddenly break down into tears.

"How long has it been?" I croaked, water filling my eyes. Jax, no. How could I do this to him? Not again.

"Why's he texting you?" Troy abruptly demanded, avoiding my question. "I remember that asshole. Never quite got along with him. It doesn't matter anymore, though. You won't be seeing him. It's been about fourteen hours, Cherry. You were out for a long time. I imagine that he's already seen what I left behind of that bitch you call a mother."

Everything inside me went haywire. The text I got from my mom. It was from Troy. I knew that now. He got a hold of her phone, which means he was there with her, which means...no...no...

"Where's my mom?" I screamed. "Tell me where she is! What have you done with her?" Troy just rolled his eyes.

"It doesn't matter. I didn't need her getting in the way," he said. "So I took care of her." The blood was pounding in my ears. My mom...he couldn't have...did he really...no...it's not possible.

"Where's my mother?!" I shrieked.

"Calm down, Cherry," he said, his voice taking on a note of sternness. "You'll like it better this way."

"NO!" I screamed, tears spilling down my face. I desperately tried to push against my restraints. "NO! I hate you! I hate you! You're a monster!"

The slap came hard and fast. His palm struck my face with a burning intensity, so hard that I felt the metallic taste of blood fill the inside of my mouth. Then he grabbed my hair and yanked my head toward him.

"Listen here, Bitch," he snarled. "Everything I've done, everything I went through, I did for you! You'd better watch it! Do you hear me?" I couldn't say anything, I just let the sobs roll through my body, and the tears cascade past my cheeks. My mother couldn't be dead. She couldn't be. Troy sighed. "I really hate talking that way to you, sweetie. You know I love you, don't you?" I wanted to shake my head. I wanted to scream again. This wasn't love. I know what love is. Love is being around Maya and Milo and Norah and my mom. Love is being with Jax. Jax loved me. Troy didn't love me at all. I had to say that to myself, over and over again, just to convince myself that it was true. Jax loves me. He's going to take care of my mom and find me.

And I really believed that he would.

< < < > > >

"Are you better now?" I didn't glance up from where I was sitting, still tied to the damn chair. My muscles were sore from being stuck in this position for so long. "Come on, Cherry. Answer me." I managed to slide my angry, fierce gaze toward him, and leveled him with the deepest glare I could conjure. He tsked and just walked toward me. "Cherry, I know you don't like sitting like that. If you're good, maybe I can let you out. Does that sound okay?" That almost got me. I was in pain from having my arms like this. My back and my butt ached to move. My joints were begging me to give in. But how could I? How could I just give in? After what he did?

I had exhausted myself from crying so much. I had no more tears available to shed. Now, the only weapon at my disposal was anger in its rawest form.

"Leave me alone," I spat.

"I know you want to get up. If you keep using that tone with me..." his voice suddenly dropped, and a chilly hatred crept into it. "You'll have to stay just like that for me. I'm flexible." A shiver swept through me. I didn't want to submit to this...this monster. But keeping myself tied up wouldn't do me any good, either. If I wanted to get away, I'd need my arms and legs.

"Alright," I finally subjected, letting out a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

That seemed to catch him off guard. Troy's attention snapped to me again, and suddenly he came much, much closer.

"Really? No games?" he asked suspiciously. I forced myself to look at his eyes, at his empty, feelingless eyes, and I tried to dim the hatred showing in my own.

"No games. Please. Let me go, for a minute," I whispered helplessly. He smiled widely.

"Of course, sweet girl. You know with a face like that, I'd do almost anything for you," he whispered. He came behind me to undo the ropes keeping my wrists together, and as he did so, he leaned in and breathed in my ear, "And for that body, Cherry, I'd do anything at all." I bit my tongue to keep from whimpering pathetically. It's going to be over soon, I kept telling myself. Those were the only words that could keep me sane right now.

After the ropes fell from my body, I had difficulty standing up. But Troy was quick to help.

"Come here, come sit on the couch," he said, leading me to the dusty cushions and basically pushing me onto them. I sat down hesitantly, trying desperately not to visibly shake. My eyes darted briefly around the room. There was nothing. No way to escape, except for the one door that I assumed led upstairs. A few metal shelves lined the walls, and boxes littered the floor, as well as empty beer bottles and cigarette butts.

"Th-thank you," I whispered. He grinned, and to my horror, he leaned in and planted a sloppy, scratchy kiss on my cheek. I closed my eyes, but I forced myself not to flinch or throw up. Good, Alyssa. You're doing well so far.

"No problem, baby," he said. "Now, I'm gonna go upstairs and get us some drinks, alright? As much as we want each other, I think we need to catch up first." I nodded quickly. Yes, catching up. That was far better than the alternative. He walked away, up the stairs. I couldn't escape that way. I didn't know where it went, and I couldn't risk him seeing me. I managed to stagger around the dark basement, looking for anything else. Behind one of the metal shelves, I found a tiny, cracked window. Outside, I could see a dirt road and a mailbox, the truck he must have used to bring me here, and lots and lots of trees. A forest? We must have gone far, far out of the city. For one quick second, I almost thought I was saved. But as I peered through the grimy window, I saw slim metal bars guarding it from the outside. Another shiver slid through my body. This basement...it was designed to keep someone in. Almost like he had been planning for this. I erased the thought from my mind. I couldn't think about that now. I was just starting to feel the grip of complete and utter hopelessness take hold, when I spotted it.

Troy's one mistake.

My phone sat on one of the boxes. Yes. He left it down here! I had to bite my lip. It was a stupid accident. A complete slip-up that I was glad to use as my advantage. As quietly as I could, I crept over to it and held my breath, hoping that it had some sort of charge left in it. Twelve percent. Yes. That was enough. It was all I needed.

The second I turned it on, my eyes blurred with tears. A list of missed phone calls awaited me on my lock screen. Jax. I couldn't imagine what this was doing to him right now...what I was doing to him right now. He'd blame himself...I couldn't even stand to think about how much anger he was feeling. He had assumed the role of my protector, and now I was here. But if I see him again...I'll make sure he knows. I'll make sure he knows that none of this was his fault.

But what if I don't see him again?

Maybe I was stupid. Okay, I was definitely stupid. Because if I was smart, I would have called the police, and begged them to track my phone before it died. But seeing Jax's name...and thinking about hearing his voice. If this was my last phone call, I didn't want to talk to a 911 operator. I wanted to speak to Jax, to hear him say my name, and tell me everything was going to be okay, even if everything was falling apart.

And so I did something stupid.

To my relief, he picked up instantly.

"Lis?" I almost didn't recognize his voice at first. It was...pained. Panicked. Something I had rarely seen in Jax before. There was no doubt in my mind. His voice was hoarse, and tired, and scared, and anything but relaxed. "Lis is that you?"

"J-Jax?" I whispered. Suddenly, I heard an audible gasp on the other side. And yelling. Jax was yelling to someone else...it's her! That's what he shouted. It's her! She's on the line! I whispered again, "Jax?"

"Lis," he was talking to me again, his voice dripping with relief...and...tears? But I recognized him this time. That was Jax. My Jax. "Lis, oh my...oh my...damn it. Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," I cried quietly. "I'm fine. Listen, I don't think I have much time-"

"It's gonna be alright," he said hastily from the other line. "Do you know where you are? Can you tell me?"

"I don't...I don't know..." I whispered. "But listen, Jax, I need to-"

"Lis, hey, it's alright, baby. I'm gonna find you. But I gotta know where you are," he said desperately. "Can you tell me anything? Are you able to see a window?" I took a deep breath, and stared out of the dirty glass again.

"There's...there's a truck. Parked far down a long drive way. It's green. And a black mailbox...it has four numbers. I can make out a...a two and a seven...but I can't see the others," I said sadly.

"That's alright. That's okay." He was talking fast. "Are there any other buildings? Or houses?"

"N-no," I said. "Trees. There's a lot of trees. I think I'm in the woods...and there's a dirt road..."

"Okay, okay, that's good information," he said.

"Jax," I broke. I suddenly felt more tears - the ones I thought I had used up - being released. "Jax...I'm scared."

I hadn't thought of death before. At least, not happening to me. I had heard of it, I'd even seen it. I had felt it, when my father passed away, or when they laid Chloe Maxwell in her grave. All I knew of it, was that it hurt the living world, too. That some part of the earth died. It lost a spirit. But no matter how much I thought about the peace that was perhaps waiting on the other side, with Chloe and hopefully my dad, it was still a scary, scary thing. And I felt that fear gnawing at me, and that same fear was now begging Jax to put it to rest.

"Lissy, hey," he crooned. His voice had softened. It was gentle, less out-of-control. I felt my heart fall back - nearly - into its usual pattern. That was a voice I needed right now. Calmness. Peace. So that I could feel the same way inside. "Shh. It's gonna be okay, I promise. I'm gonna find you, and you're gonna be alright. You gotta trust, okay? I'm gonna take care of you." Hot tears slid down my cheeks.

"Jax...what if I die?" I asked. I could practically feel him shaking his head.

"No, Lis, no that's not..." he began. I heard his voice break. Was he crying, too? "That's not gonna happen. I won't let it happen. Just don't worry, alright? I'm coming. Just hang on. Just hang on until I get there."

"I don't know if I can..." I whispered, closing my eyes. "Jax I don't...I don't know..."

"Hey, hey," he said urgently. "If this is your excuse for getting out of our next training session, then I definitely can't let that happen."

I was standing here, in my kidnapper's home, trapped in a basement, and my life was hanging in the balance. And yet, Jax made me laugh. A small, tired, pitiful laugh. But a laugh nonetheless.

"Jax...I'll try...but only if I never have to eat another omelette again," I whispered, trying to wipe my tears. I heard him laugh, barely, just like mine. It wasn't one of his real laughs. The big, rolling ones. It was laced with pain and worry and indescribable amounts of fear. But it was still his, and despite my objections to optimism at this point in my life, that laugh gave me hope.

And then that hope shattered, along with the glasses of iced tea that Troy had dropped on the cold basement floor.

"What are you doing?!" he boomed, racing forward. I screamed and dropped the phone. The screen cracked, but I could still hear some of Jax's voice. Lis, Jax was screaming. Lis! Are you alright?! ALYSSA! LISSY?!

Troy grabbed me by my hair and flung me onto the floor, landing a sharp kick into my side. I screamed again, this time out of utter pain. Troy grabbed my phone, then threw it across the room. Hard. So that it crumbled against the far wall. Then he returned his attention to me.

"WHAT WAS THAT, BITCH? TRYING TO GET A HOLD OF THAT DUMB ASS BOYFRIEND?!" Troy screamed, kicking me again. And again. And again. My arms came up over my face, in a feeble attempt to protect my head. But then he was on the floor. Hitting me and slapping me and punching me again and again and again.

I must have blacked out again. When I woke up, I wasn't in the chair any more. My hands were tied above my head. My ankles were cuffed below me. No, not a chair. Something much, much worse. A bed.

"Hey, Cherry. I'm glad you're awake," Troy whispered from the other end of the room. He wasn't wearing his moth-eaten flannel shirt anymore. He came closer, and I bit my lip to hold back the tears that were so readily waiting. Everything in my body hurt. Every single thing. "I think after that little stunt you pulled earlier, you need to know just who you belong to."

I hadn't thought of death before. But now I felt that death was an escape far more merciful than this.

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