The Dream
Chapter 19: Payback
"Mr. Vaughn, what a pleasant surprise. I was not expecting you so soon."
Fahim. The smooth sound of his voice was harsher on Vaughn's ears than fingernails on a chalkboard. Vaughn's grip on the rifle tightened as he finally lifted his eyes.
Fahim was freshly dressed, his hair wet, his body smelling faintly of soap. Apart from a small bruise on his head, he showed no other visible signs of his fight with Sydney.
"Where is she?" Vaughn demanded.
"Who?" Fahim asked, cocking his head and smiling
"Cut the shit, Fahim. I'm not playing your games." Vaughn tried to see around him, to see if Sydney was in the room, but he was blocking the door.
"That's too bad, Mr. Vaughn. I'm sure you'd enjoy them."
Vaughn raised the rifle, pointing it at that monster's ugly head, but Fahim put out a hand to stop him.
"I could kill you right now." Vaughn stated simply. He was smoldering with anger, and using all his self-control not to act on his words.
"You could." Fahim said with a shrug. "But then I can guarantee that neither you or Miss Bristow would leave my compound alive."
Fahim's words were meant to be threatening and cruel, but Vaughn's heart leapt with joy. Alive. Sydney was still alive.
"Don't do something you'll later regret, Mr. Vaughn," Fahim continued with a laugh. "I believe I have something that belongs to you in here. You may come in, but only if you leave your weapon at the door."
Vaughn frowned and narrowed his eyes. Fahim laughed and held up his hands in a gesture of mock surrender.
"I am unarmed, after all. We must play fair."
"Fair! Who the hell are you to talk about playing fair?" He
was shouting now, and he didn't care who heard him. "Using a sword against
someone who's unarmed, a woman…"
"Ah, but Miss Bristow is no ordinary woman," Fahim interrupted him, his eyes twinkling. "But I'm sure you know that, don't you?"
Vaughn was shaking with rage. He ripped the rifle from his
shoulder and flung it. It clattered down the hall before skidding to a stop at
the top of the stairs.
Fahim watched, amused. "I think you could benefit from some anger management courses, Mr. Vaughn. I could give you some numbers if you like."
He had been patient, but now his patience was wearing dangerously thin. "Let me in."
"Of course." Fahim moved aside and gestured for Vaughn to enter. "Come right this way."
Vaughn stepped inside. He found a couch, some chairs, and a bookcase, but no Sydney. The room was immaculate, except for one smear of blood that marred the carpet. She was somewhere nearby. He could feel it.
Fahim followed Vaughn's gaze. "You'll have to pardon the mess. The help should be arriving within the hour to clean up…Would you care to sit down?"
Fahim sat on the couch, but Vaughn remained standing. "Where's Sydney?"
"Not to worry. She's resting. I would say she's resting comfortably, but I believe that would be stretching the facts a little too far."
He laughed again. A sound that Vaughn loathed. It was taking almost all of his effort not to put his hands around Fahim's neck and listen gleefully as his cruel laughter slowly choked away.
"Now, tell me, Mr. Vaughn," Fahim continued. "You have arrived much quicker than I had anticipated. I would love to hear you explain this, if you don't mind. I'm in the mood for a good story."
Vaughn couldn't stand much more of this. He had to get to Sydney, to rescue her, to take her away. Fahim had implied that she was still alive, but she was hurt. She might not have much time.
He took a step closer to Fahim and said in a slow, low voice, "Take me to Sydney. Now."
"If you insist," Fahim said as he stood up. "But you'll explain later, perhaps?"
Vaughn glared at him.
"No? Very well."
He led Vaughn to one of the doors at the side of the room.
"You're here to whisk her away from me, I assume." Fahim said with a sigh. "What a pity, we were having such fun."
Before Vaughn could respond or get a chance to jump at his throat, Fahim turned and opened the door. The curtains were drawn and the room was dark, but as the door opened, light fell across a bed.
Without waiting for Fahim to invite him in, Vaughn ran across the room and to the bed. Sydney was lying there. He could just make out her outline in the dark. A roll of paper lay at her side. The map. So the mission had been a success, but at what price?
"Sydney?" Vaughn whispered. She didn't flinch, didn't move. Her chest rose and fell slowly, barely moving with her shallow breaths.
He bent down and kissed her gently. Her lips were wet and sticky, and afterwards, when he ran the back of his hand across his own lips, he found it smeared with blood.
Suddenly his eyes adjusted to the darkness and what he saw filled him sadness and made him crazy with anger.
Sydney's hair was red. As red as it had been the first time he had laid eyes on her, but this time it wasn't hair dye; it was blood. The blood oozed out of an ugly bruised bulge on the top of her head, like lava flowing slowly from a volcano. It ran across her face, over her bruised eye, mingling with the blood from a wound on her cheek, and flowed down to the bed, staining the sheets.
The bedclothes had once been white, but they were no longer. They were smeared and spotted further down, proving that the blood was also coming from somewhere other than her face. The once pure white sheets were now stained an ugly crimson.
Damn the sheets. They, along with every other item in this house, every other thing that that man has ever touched, deserved to burn in hell.
He threw the sheets down to Sydney's waist. Blood was still slowly flowing from the gash on her arm and the wound in her side. So much blood. Dripped on the floor, staining the sheets, soaking her clothes.
How long had it taken him to get to her? Twenty minutes? Twenty-five? He needed to get her to the hospital. She wouldn't last much longer.
Holding back tears, Vaughn reached down to take her in his arms. But suddenly he stopped. Something had caught his eyes, something that infuriated him more than what he had already seen.
Sydney's shirt was opened slightly; the buttons were ripped off, nowhere to be found. Vaughn tore the sheets off the bed to inspect the rest of her clothing. But her shoes, her socks, her pants, all were gone.
"Merde," Vaughn whispered, as hot, angry tears scalded his eyes. Then he saw the bruises. The bruises that weren't from the fight. The bruises that were on her neck, her breasts, and the inside of her thighs.
"You son of a bitch!" Vaughn shouted, turning around.
Fahim had been standing in the doorway watching Vaughn's every move. His face twisted into an evil grin.
"How could you?" Vaughn demanded, his voice low, threatening.
"Didn't your mother ever sit down and talk to you, Mr. Vaughn," Fahim said with a laugh. "When a man loves a woman…"
He didn't get a chance to finish. Vaughn launched at him, his fist connecting with the other man's head. Fahim swung back, but missed. Vaughn lunged at him, throwing him to the ground, his fingers encircling Fahim's throat.
"Can't…we be civil…about this?" Fahim choked out, trying to pry at Vaughn's fingers.
Civil. That bastard. Vaughn tightened his grip. Fahim struggled, as his face became increasingly darker shades of red.
This was taking too long. It wasn't giving Vaughn the satisfaction he needed. It wasn't making up for the pain and humiliation that Sydney had suffered. It wasn't making up for the blood she had lost. It was too good of a way for that bastard to die.
Vaughn loosened his grip.
"Thank you…thank you…" Fahim whispered in between gasps. But Vaughn ignored him. He began beating Fahim in the face, pummeling him like a madman.
Fahim was shrieking, bringing his hands to his face in an effort to protect himself. But it was useless. Vaughn continued to hammer him without mercy, even after Fahim had dropped his hands and the shrieking had decreased to a whimper.
He poured out his fury every time he connected his fist with Fahim's face, but instead of satisfying him, his anger only increased. His punches became more violent, blood began to fly through the air.
Suddenly, a shot rang out. Only then did Vaughn stop his relentless beating, immediately turning his eyes to where Sydney lay.
A/N: Well, what do you think? I was going to keep going, but that seemed like as good a place as any to stop this chapter. I was very gung-ho this weekend. Not only was this chapter posted only a few days after the one before, but I also have most of the next chapter written as well. Let me know if you want me to post it. ;^)
