Gus leads me to a path at the edge of the woods and hands me one of the shotguns. We make our way into the trees. Silently, we creep along the path, hoping to hear something to point us toward Livvy.
Dense forest surrounds us. Fear trickles along my spine, every footstep bringing me closer to finding her. I move quickly, refusing to think about what could be happening to her right now. I forge forward, Gus following quietly behind me.
A noise makes me pause; Gus’s hand rests on my shoulder, assuring me he heard it too. Laughter, following by a piercing scream.
I run.
Gus falls behind, unable to keep pace. The noise stops, then screams burst through the silence again as we dart towards the sound.
The path opens into a clearing in the woods. White stones form a circle with a low wooden table positioned in the middle. Livvy’s tied down, straps around her wrists and ankles.
She’s naked and beaten, blood covering her perfect skin as she screams, thrashing against her bindings. I see the naked man between her legs, and an angry red mist descends. I surge forward, breaking out of the trees just as Livvy’s foot gets free and she kicks him in the head.
Startled, he rights himself and punches her in the face.
Like an animal, I roar with anger. I drop the shotgun and fly forward, tackling Livvy’s attacker to the ground.
His face comes into view. “Anderson?” I say, shocked. Wyatt takes advantage of my surprise and punches me in the face, his fist grazing my jaw. I launch myself at Wyatt and wrestle him onto his back. I throw my fist forward and hit him. Again and again, my fists swing, anger and fear fuelling me. His hands claw at the ground, his face a bloody mess, one eye swollen shut.
He grabs something from the dirt, his arm swinging up, and fire burns through my ribs. I glance down and see blood oozing from a wound on my skin. Wyatt’s face changes to a smug grin, and wrapping his hand around the hilt, he raises the knife above his head, laughs and lunges at me again.
An ear-shattering boom pierces the air.
Wyatt’s eyes widen, and his gaze drops to his chest as blood splutters from the hole in his torso. Life slips from his face, and he slumps, falling backwards into the dirt.
I turn. Gus stands behind us, his shotgun still pointed at Wyatt, smoke pluming from the barrel. Our eyes lock. He gives me a single nod, and I nod back. It’s the most I can do at the moment to acknowledge that he just saved both my and Livvy’s lives.
Livvy.
Scrambling to my feet, I run to her and fall to my knees by her side. I throw my phone to Gus and shout, “Call 911! Tell them to get police and an ambulance to meet us at the house.”
My hands shake as I frantically try to free her from the straps holding her to the table. I falter, unsure where to touch her bruised and bloody skin. The open wounds on her arms, stomach, and legs are running with fresh red blood. Bruises are already starting to cover her entire body, and her beautiful face is barely recognizable, one eye swollen completely shut.
I touch her neck; her pulse is weak, but there. Relief pours from me, and lifting her carefully into my arms, I stand and cradle my brave woman against my chest.
When I turn around, Gus’s gun is still pointed at Wyatt’s dead body. His eyes don’t move from the body when he speaks to me. “She—she alive?”
I nod. “Yes.”
Gus’s eyes close briefly. He turns away from Wyatt’s corpse, slips off his jacket and covers Livvy’s naked skin. Tormented tears pool in his eyes, and he lifts his hand to reach for her, but stills inches above her damaged body. “Take her. I’ll stay here with him till the police get here,” he says, his gruff voice cracking with emotion.
I nod and start to walk away before pausing to look back at Gus. “Thank you,” I say. He nods, and I quickly turn, rushing along the path towards the sound of sirens.
I emerge from the trees, the shrill call of sirens shattering the peace of my sleepy neighbourhood. Doors open and people peer out, eager to see what’s going on, but their eyes never look to where I’m hidden at the end of the row of houses.
The sirens get louder, and flashing lights herald the ambulance’s arrival. It screeches to a stop at the bottom of my driveway. Two paramedics jump out and rush towards us.
Livvy’s cradled to my chest, covered by Gus’s jacket but still exposed. Everything in my gut tells me to shelter her, not to release her in case she disappears. That this is all just a dream and she’s still with Anderson, being tortured and abused.
I tremble, fear and anger so closely mixed I’m unsure what I’m feeling.
“Sir, we need to look at the girl.” A young paramedic stands in front of me, his hands held out towards Livvy, and instinct has me pulling her further into my chest. “Sir, what’s her name? Can you tell me what happened?” the paramedic asks.
“Her name’s Olivia. She was kidnapped. He hurt her.” The paramedic nods and holds his palms upwards and towards me in a gesture of surrender. I stare down at Livvy. Her blood covers my arms, my shirt soaked and red. “Help her. Please help her,” I beg.
A female paramedic pulls a gurney from the back of the ambulance before rushing towards us. “Sir, you need to lay her on the bed so we can look at her,” she says. I nod, but my hands won’t release her. “Sir, we can help her. But only if you let her go.”
Reluctantly, I lay her on the stretcher, her pale body marred by bruises. The paramedics swarm around her, prodding and poking at my girl. “There’s a pulse. It’s weak, but I can feel it. We need to stop this bleeding fast,” the man says as the female rushes to the ambulance and comes back with a bag full of supplies.
My knees buckle. I’d felt her pulse, but hearing them confirm it, my legs give way and I fall to the ground.
More sirens blare, and the sheriff pulls alongside the ambulance. “Echo, what’s going on?” the sheriff asks.
Not taking my eyes from Livvy, I speak, my voice robotic. “Wyatt Anderson attacked my girl. He kidnapped her and took her into the woods. Tied her down and beat her, cut her with a knife over and over. He was about to rape her.” The words die in my mouth, and reality crashes down on me.
I reach for Livvy’s hand and grip her cool flesh between my fingers to reassure myself that she’s really here.
“Where’s Anderson now, son?” the sheriff asks.
I point in the direction of the woods. “Dead. Gus killed him. He’s in the woods guarding the body,” I say.
The sheriff signals to his deputies, sending them off into the woods. “Echo, you know I’m gonna need you to come in. Give a statement,” he says gently. I nod, and he places his hand on my shoulder, squeezing lightly.
“Sir, are you family?” the paramedics ask.
I reluctantly drag my eyes from Livvy’s still body and face the ambulance crew. “She’s mine,” I say.
They look at each other in confusion. “Are you family?” the female paramedic asks again.
My gaze moves back to Livvy as I answer. “Yes.”
The woman shrugs and turns to grab the end of the gurney, knocking off the brake. “You can come in the ambulance, or follow behind. But we need to take her now; she needs to be at the emergency room.”
“I’m not leaving her,” I growl.
They nod and start to wheel her towards the ambulance. I hear the roar of Sleaze’s bike as soon as he turns into the street. “Echo,” Sleaze shouts. He runs across the yard, reaching us in seconds. His eyes scan Livvy, and he pales. “Fuck, what the hell happened? Is she okay?”
I pull in a deep breath, turn to him, and speak. “She’s alive.”
“We need to go. Now,” the paramedic shouts. They hold the doors of the ambulance open, and I turn to leave, but Sleaze pulls me in for a tight hug.
“I’ll follow you to the hospital,” he assures me. Grateful, I climb into the ambulance, my eyes locking with Sleaze’s as they close the doors.