A/n: Hey guys. Thanks for the couple of reviews you have submitted. I really appreciate them. If there's even one person reading this, then Im going to keep writing:)
And sorry for the wait on this chapter. Schools coming up again and there is lots of stuff that I need to get done! lol Enjoy!
Frank leaned over the counter at the local computer store where he worked looking and feeling completely bored. It was absolutly dead today, he didn't even know why he was called in. Someone was probably sick.. or pretending to be sick in order to take advantage of the summer weather. But he didn't mind, he needed all the hours he could get. University was more expensive than the had imagined, and every penny counted. His parents had given him some money, but they had wanted the boys to "learn the true value of a dollar" and were making them pay for about half the tuition. Even though Joe would be joining him in the fall at Bayport U, his easy going brother had yet to find himself a suitable job.
Grabbing a pen out of the drawer next to him, Frank began to chew on it nervously. Thinking of his brother always made him a little nervous. It seemed like Joe never took anythig seriously. It was all about having fun and not caring. He tried to make it seem like nothing could bother him. But he had noticed the look on Joes face when his father had mentioned the escaped prisoner. It had shooken him up a little. Both brothers had encountered men like this before. And everytime they somehow managed to escape unscaved... but how much longer would their luck hold out? Joe hadn't been taking every safety precaution lately. What with coming home late byhimself and not giving Frank his whereabouts for the day...he was just asking for trouble.
Frank sighed. He didn't want to be overbearing or anything. He just knew his brother had a knack for getting himself into situations he couldn't handle. It was a time tested tradition, and Frank was always the one to run in after him. He had seen his brother survive some close calls, and he couldn't handle anymore. This was his little brother, and he'd do anything to make sure nothing happened to him. He knew Joe felt the same way about him. They just had to watch out for one another.
Checking the time, Frank was stunned to see it was already 9:30. The store closed at ten, so when he got home he'd give Joe a stern talking to, and make sure he understood the seriousness of the situation. They didn't have their father to back them up this time. Both his parents were in Toronto on buisness, and it would take more than a simple phone call to get a hold of them.
The sound of the bell above the doorway broke his train of thought and pushing himself up off the counter, Frank greeted the customers and set about the difficult task of looking busy.
Joe smiled as he walked down the darkening street towards his house. His day had actually gone quite well. While he was out running some errands, he had bumped into Chet and the gang and ended up going back to his place to watch the baseball game on Chets big screen. It had been a good guys night. But his evening was cut short. He didn't want to be late again. Frank was right. They had to be careful with this guy on the loose and everything. According to his dad the guy had been a hitman. Always worked alone and always chaging his appearence. They had seen a picture, but it was blurry, and taken before the guy spent 15 years in hell. No doubt he looked nothing like the picture now.
Well, Im not going to let the thought of some psycho ruin my summer. Joe thought to himself as he reached his steps. Taking out the keys he once again unlocked the door and, making sure to remember the keys this time, he opened the door and entered the dark house.
Shutting the door, Joe was overwhelmed by the sudden coolness in the air. Slipping off his sandels he bounded up the stairs, and upon entering the room he shared with his brother, grabbed a white hoodie off the floor and threw it on.
Stretching his arms as he made his way back downstairs, Joe turned on the livingroom lights and plopped himself down on the large lazy boy facing the T.V. This was the first time in weeks that he was home before midnight, let alone home before midnight with no plans on going back out. Turning around the catch sight of the clock on the wall behind him, he made note of the time.
"Well, Frank will be home in about an hour... might as well just kill some time." Sighing, Joe begin to flip through the channels.
Donovan had been sitting in the same chair at the kicthen table, deepin thought, for more than three hours straight when the howl of a coyote in the distance snapped him out of his trance. Night had fallen, and as he hauled himself out of the chair the hairs on the back of his neck began to stand on edge. Tonight was the night. It had to be done tonight. His heart beating rapidly, Donovan set about making sure he had what he needed for task ahead. He'd need the rope, thats for sure, and the rags in case the kid was going to be uncooperative which he assumed would be the case. But he was still undecided on his method of intimidation. What would the kid be more scared of.. a gun, or a knife? He didn't want to bring both for fear of having the kid overpower him in one fleeting moment and have one of his own weapons turned against him. Thinking about this for a minute, he grabbed one and threw it in the bag along with the other supplies and left one sitting on the table. As he headed towards the door he detoured and entered the bathroom. Opening the medicine cabinet he grabbed the stolen bottle of chloroform and tossed it in the bag as well. He really didn't want the kid to be drugged. But this was for emergencies. Maybe in case his brother walked in. He just wanted the boy to be awake as long as possible, wanted him to suffer every moment like he had in prison.
Throwing on a black sweater Donovan walked out the door, slamming it and kicking the beer bottles out of the way. Entering his car he lit up and cigarette and pulled out of the long driveway towards the road that would lead him towards the Hardys.
Almost an hour later, a frustrated Joe was still flicking through the channels when a dark green car pulled onto the side of the street, just a couple houses up from the Hardy residence.
Completly oblivious to the incoming danger, Joe was beginning to become a little bored. Staying in on a hot summer night while his friends were out partying was not something he was used to, and not something he was enjoying.
Throwing down the remote, Joe stalked out of the living room and made his way towards the kicthen. The hallway was only illuminated by the light from the living room, causing shadows to throw themselves across the walkway. His barefeet made no sound as he entered the kicthen and grabbed an apple out of the fruit bowl on the counter. Turning to walk back to the living room he caught his image in the glass window of the deck door. He was still wearing the shorts he had put on this morning, but he had just realised now that he still had his sunglasses perched on his head. He stiffled a laugh reached up and was just taking them off his head when a loud knock on the door startled him and he dropped them to the floor. Cursing, Joe placed the applce back in the bowl andleaned down and picked the glasses up off the floor.Broken. With an angered groan Joe examined the cracked lens's. He was still surverying the damage when the knock came again. Placing the broken shades on the counter, the teen turned his attention towards the front door. Who the hell could that be? He thought with frustration. It was probably a salesman or some type of surveyer. They had been coming around a lot this summer. Turning off the kitchen lights Joe made his way back to the front door. Looking out the window onto the front steps he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
"No fucking way.." Shaking his head Joe unlocked the door once again to the man who claimed he used to work with his father. Why is this guys here again? I just finished telling him that dad wasn't home. Joe's intuition was telling him that something wasn't right here. He knew just by looking at the guy that there was no way he had ever worked with his father... so why should he open up the door for him? With his hand still on the doorknob he hesitated. Maybe he should just keep the door shut. Frank should be home anytime now, maybe it was a good idea just to wait.
Another loud knock broke his train of thought, and with an angry snarl Joe swung the door open.
"Look, I don't know what else I can tell.." Blinding pain struck the right side of his face. The gun had made swift contact and succeded in cutting the teen off and knocking him harshly to the ground. Joes head connected painfully to the floor, and he lay fighting unconciousness and breathing heavily as the figure in the doorway slipped his way in and shut the door, locking it behind him.
His head reeling from the blow, Joe attempted to push himself off the floor, but the man simply placed his foot on the teens neck forcing him to remain on the ground. Joe was beginning to panic. Normally he wasn't one to panic, but he also wasn't one to be caught off guard in his own home either. His breathing was becoming more and more painful and the mans foot on his neck was only making this worse. He could hear the mans heavy breathing and was terrified of the fact that he couldn't see his attacker. At this moment he was completly vaunrable, and utterly terrified.
" If its jewllery or money your looking for, it's upstairs, the third room to the right in the top drawer." Joe gasped. His intuition was telling him that the man who had just assaulted him hadn't come for money or jewllery. If that had been the case, the man would have probably already have shot him and then raided the house for material goods.Although these thoughts rushed through his head, common sense was telling him that at the moment, he just needed to get this guy talking.
He waited. There was no response. The foot on his neck never eased, the breathing never slowed. He could hear the man moving, maybe towards him, maybe away...he didn't know. His answer came when the barrel of a small handgun touched the top of his head. Joe's breathing immidietly quickened. If there was anything he was quite familliar with, it was the feeling of the barrel of a gun touching his head. He began squirming even more under the mans foot as he tried to move his head away from the cold metal. The gun dug deeper into his head, making his face press against the cold hardwood floor. He silently prayed that Frank wouldn't walk in right now, he'd probably get himself shot.
"Money? Jewllery? Now what the fuck would I need that for?" The voice cut the silence like a knife. Joe winced and waited for another blow. The man's voice was filled with venom and the boot pressed down harder. "What I need, is something thats going to make all those years in prison seem worthwhile... what I need is my sanity back... what I need is a life.. yours"
Joes breathing momentarily stopped. All those times his dad warned them about people coming after them for revenge... it was actually happening. This was the guy his dad had warned him and Frank about. The same guy Joe had scoffed at and sent rudely away. He looked at his fingers sprawled away from his face and wasn't surprised to see them shaking against the floor. He couldn't even believe this. This must be some sort of nightmare. But the pain on his neck and the gun at the back of his head was nothing short of real.
Joe was just beginning to get his thoughts straight when the man reached down and, grabbing his hood, lifted him roughly off the groud and slammed him face first into the wall. His already bruised face sustained another blow as the man leaned in and grabbed a fistfull of blond hair. Pushing the gun into the small of the teens back, Donovan leaned in and rasped into Joes ear breathing heavily, almost panting. "Im going to let go of you nice and easy. You're going to go into the kitchen, Ill be right behind you and I will not hesitate to kill you if you try anything. Now, you're going to write a note to your brother explaining that I have you, and that we'll call at" Donovan paused and checked his watch. "1 am. You got that. Now im not kidding around with you kid. Do what I say, and you might just make it out of this alive. Now nod if you understand what I just told you." Joe remained still, not wanting to give into this mans scare tactics. He was rewarded when the gun pressed harder into his back. "Did you fucking hear me! Nod your head!" The man was insane, yelling into Joes face and pulling back on his hair even harder. Joe gasped and nodded his head.
Donovan snarled and slammed Joes face into the wall one last time before releasing the boys hair and backing up. He waited for the kid to start moving. They didn't have all night and he was unsure where the boys brother was. He just wanted to get the kid out of this house and into the car before something could ruin his plans.
But Joe didn't move. He was in complete shock he just had no idea what to do next. He didn't want to listen to this psycho, but at the same time he really didn't feel like being shot. With one arm steadying himself on the wall, and the other pressed up against the gash on his head from being pistol whipped he contemplated his next move. Out of all the criminals he had ever come across, this one seemed the most desperate and insane. He hadn't even tried to lure him away, just showed up on his front doorstep. He was bold, which wasn't so good in this case. Rubbing his head and shutting his eyes, Joe tried to think about what he was supposed to do next when he felt the familliar cold metal on the back of his head. Tensing up he stared blankly at the wall, wondering if this was it.
"Look kid.. can I call you Joe? Joe.. you need to move.. now. Don't make me tell you again." Once again, there was no emotion or fear in the mans voice.. just pure hatred. Joe could feel his body shaking. He didn't remeber the last time he was this scared. He felt like the man was breathing in his fear, making him even more bold and confident. Joe refused to give him that satisfaction. Taking deep breath he stepped away from the wall. Removing his hand from his forehead he wasn't surprised to see that it was stained red. It wasn't too bad, but looking at the wall he noticed that blood had smeared on the wall when he had been pushed into it.
Refusing to look at Donovan Joe turned towards the kicthen and slowly made his way down the hall. He could hear the man behind him, breathing heavily, his boots slamming on the hard floor. When Joe was a little out of the man's reach, Donovan reached out grabbed hold of Joe's arm, attempting to slow him down. Joe would have none of this. Turning around he glared at Donovan and ripped his arm out of the mans grasp and continued down the hallway.If this guy thought that Joe was going to make this as easy as possible, he was even crazier than he seemed. He was almost waiting for another blow but none came. He assumed the man was probably in a rush to get him out of here. Entering the dark kitchen, Joe flicked on the lights. He shot a descrete look at the clock above the stove and was shocked to see that it was eleven... Frank would be home any second now.
Donovan was watching the boy closely and noticed his reaction to the time. "You're not expecting anyone are you? Im not going to be surprised if I see a girlfriend or maybe you're brother walk in now will I?" He eyed Joe suspiciously, never lowering the gun aimed at his head. Joe made it around the counter and glared at Donovan. He didn't want Frank to get shot walking in here, but Frank might be his only hope at the moment. Joe thought fast.
"No. Frank went out for the night. I got stuck house-sitting." He lied. Donovan looked him up and down once, then his eyes moved away from Joe towards the end of the counter. Joe turned his head in that direction and felt his blood run cold. He reached towards the paper laying on the edge of the counter but was stopped by Donovan.
"Don't even think about it." Moving towards the teen Donovan kept the gun trained on the boys head. He stood behind him, towering over Joe, who was still staring at the note Frank had left earlier, now within sight of the intruder. Donovan grabbed the back of Joe's neck and turned the boy around to face him. Joe refused to look in the man's face and opted insted to look out the window.
"Look at me." Donovan spat. Joe still glared out the window, the empty yard was a comforting sight and he refused to give into this psychos orders. The man shook Joes neck pulling him closer to his own face.
"If I see your brother walk through the door, Ill kill him."
Joe's head snapped to face Donovan. This had gotten his attention.
"Okay, I lied. Ill write the note right now and we can get out of here. Frank doesn't even have to get involved. Just give me a fuckingsecond." Joe narrowed his eyes at Donovan, breathing heavily, both locked in a staring battle. Donovan was raising his fist to respond when a loud banging on the door was heard.
Joes head snapped towards the the sound. Shit, that was definitly Frank. God, he was going to get himself shot. His brain was despretly trying to come up with a plan when the knock came again. He could hear his brother yelling something but was unable tohear what exactly he was saying through the thick wooden door.
Fuck, the kids brother. Sighing, Donovan shook his head. He had seen this coming and had planned carefully for it. He grabbed Joe from behind, wrapping a muscualr arm around the boys neck and pressing the gun to his head. Joe squirmed, but stopped immedietly when Donovan whispered in his ear.
"Cooperate and I won't kill him." Joe knew the man was serious and waited for Frank to enter the kitchen.