My Angel is the Centerfold

Chapter 22

"Is that a gun?"

Harley checked to make sure the small 9mm handgun that was, in fact, a gun was fully loaded before she popped the magazine back in. Then she turned towards Spencer, regarding her boyfriend with a look that was wavering somewhere between amusement and irritation. His question clearly didn't merit an answer. But she responded anyway, with her usual sarcasm.

"What does it fuckin' look like?," she asked.

"What are you going to do with a gun?," Spencer asked. And this time, he didn't know the answer to his question. Harley considered firing off another smart ass response. What was she going to do with a gun? Clean the bathroom of course. Brush her hair. Hold it like a baby for a photo shoot. But when Spencer spoke, his voice was edged with fear. Harley had been hunting with her uncle Daryl since she was big enough to lift a 22 rifle. But she understood that guns could be scary for people that had never been around one before.

"We're taking them as a precaution," Harley explained, taking care to keep her tone more gentle. She was lying. If she got a shot at the crazy fuck that kidnapped her sister, Harley was going to take it. But Spencer didn't need to know that.

"Maybe we should try calling the police again," Spencer suggested as he followed Harley down the short hallway towards the main living area of her apartment. But this time, it wasn't Harley that responded to him.

"That sounds like a great idea," River huffed. "They were so helpful the first time. I hope they come back and call me a bad mother again real soon. Maybe next time they'll call cps!"

"Sorry, I didn't mean…," Spencer stammered. River waved him off.

"S'alright," she promised. "I'm pissed at those worthless cops, not you sweetheart." River pulled out the chair next to her. When Spencer lowered himself down into it, she gave him a gentle reassuring pat on the back. "I know yer mom's some kinda big shot. If ya don't wanna be involved in this mess, no one is going to blame ya fer leavin'."

Daryl glanced up, pausing in mid motion as he finished loading another handgun as he waited for Spencer's response. Harley's boyfriend leaving would be for the best. Less witnesses that way. And the kid didn't look like he had the stomach for what they were planning to do.

Spencer glanced at Harley, fixing his eyes on her as she filled an extra magazine for her gun. Her blue eyes narrowed with concentration as she focused on the task. She wasn't aware that a stray lock of her curly blonde hair had come loose from her ponytail. Spencer reached across the corner of the table and brushed it away from her face. Then he shook his head.

"I'm staying," he announced.

Daryl's only response was a slight roll of his eyes. River offered Spencer another pat on the back before she returned her attention to Carol. Carol's elbows were braced against the table top. She had her face buried in her hands, trying her best not to start crying again as she racked her brain for anywhere she thought Ed might have taken the girls. Her daughter was missing. And no matter what the police said, she knew Ed took her. If that wasn't bad enough, he took River's daughter as well. Carol was terrified of what he might do to Wren. At least Sophia held some value for him. She was Ed's daughter. But Wren wasn't. Thoughts of every possible horrible thing that might be happening to both girls was flooding her mind. The worst of which was that Ed might have already disposed of Wren and Merle now that he had no further use for them.

Ed didn't know River's cell phone number. But Carol found her old phone in a closet. She had no idea if it even still had service or not. She certainly hadn't paid the bill. But it was lying on the table in front of her, just in case Ed decided to try and contact her using that number. Daryl was watching the phone as he adjusted the string on his crossbow. But it was River's phone that rang.

"It's a private number," River said, her voice filled with panic.

"Answer it," Harley urged. And when her mother didn't take action fast enough, Harley lurched across the table and flipped the phone open. She hit the speaker button and thrust the device towards her mother. River swallowed the nervous lump in her throat and forced herself to greet whoever was on the other line.

"Hello?"

"Put my wife on, you fucking whore."

River's eyes widened. She extended her arm, holding the phone out for Carol to take. Carol's bottom lip was quivering. And her hand was shaking so badly that she almost dropped the phone when she reached for it. She'd come so far and regained so much of her confidence. But now, she was afraid to even speak.

Carol clutched the phone in one hand as she felt Daryl wrap his fingers around her other hand. His hand was so much bigger, it almost engulfed hers completely. His touch steadied her. And so did the subtle nod of his head before he gestured towards the phone. Carol tightened her hold on the device before she spoke.

"Where's my daughter?," she asked.

Laughter drifted out through the phone's speaker before Ed answered her. "Your daughter? I believe she's my daughter too. And if you ever wanna see her again you better start talking to me with some fucking respect."

"Okay," Carol agreed. She took a deep breath, turning her hand and griping Daryl's palm with hers. Then she spoke again. "What do you want from me?"

"We can talk about that in person," Ed barked.

Carol felt a momentary wave of panic. But when she looked at Daryl, he was nodding. Carol calmed slightly. This is what they wanted. For Ed to tell her where he was. She was going to meet him in person. But she wasn't going alone.

"Tell me where Sophia is," Carol begged. "I'll drive there right now."

"You better come alone," Ed warned. "If I see that whore you're shacking up with or anyone else with you, the whore's boyfriend and her little slut daughter are dead."

"I won't bring anyone. Just tell me where Sophia is," Carol agreed.

She thought it would be harder. But just like that, Ed told her to come home. He wasn't hiding. He drove Sophia and Wren right back to Carol's old house. The police would have found him within minutes if they even bothered to look.

"Let me talk to the girls so I know they're okay," Carol asked, careful to make sure she was using a submissive tone and not demanding anything from him. Ed didn't respond right away. And for a moment, she was terrified that he hung up on her. But then she heard a scuffle on the other end of the line. Ed was hollering at someone. And since that someone was answering back, Carol knew at least Wren was still alive and well enough to speak.

"Mom!," Wren screamed into the phone. "I don't know where Sophia is! I think he's hurting her!"

The phone was pulled away. But that didn't stop them from hearing Wren as she screamed absolute bloody murder. Carol could hear Ed telling Wren to shut her fucking mouth. And then she heard the sound of flesh hitting flesh. Wren screamed again. And then the phone went dead.

Carol and Spencer sat in horrified shock as the rest of the people around the table grabbed for guns like they were grabbing for the last bread roll at dinner. Daryl hollered out his plan to them as they hurried outside towards the cars. It wasn't the best plan Carol ever heard. But it sounded better than anything she could have thought up.

Daryl and Harley were leaving first. They were going to park on the next street over from Carol's old house and cut through the back neighbors yard so they could approach the place without being seen. Carol was going to drive the other car over. River was riding with her, but she was going to lie down in the backseat where she wouldn't be seen. After remembering the other young man was there, Daryl assigned Spencer to drive the car he and Harley were riding in. It would be easier if they didn't have to park it on the street.

Carol wasn't much for praying. When she was married to Ed, she prayed for years and never got an answer. Or any relief. But still, she whispered almost silent prayers to herself the entire drive back to the house she used to share with her husband. By the time she pulled into the driveway she was ready to answer her own prayers.

Waking up with a pounding head was nothing new for Merle Dixon. The blood crusted on the side of his head didn't worry him either. But being handcuffed to a pipe in an unfamiliar basement was a little more concerning. Once he woke up enough to realize the predicament he was in, Merle allowed his body to go limp as he closed his eyes. Most of the way. Whoever chained him up, he didn't want them to know he was conscious until he got a better idea of where he was and why. He assessed his physical condition as he listened. His head hurt the worst. But there was also a burning pain in the center of his chest.

Merle's first thoughts were of money. He racked his pounding brain, trying to think of anyone he owed it to. He hadn't screwed anyone over. Not lately at least. And though he had a few small debts, none of them were to the type of people that would chain him up in a basement. There was a possibility that someone had come to collect on some years old slight. But he didn't think that was likely. Most of the unsavory characters he used to have dealings with were either in prison or dead. If they weren't they had bigger fish to fry than a druggie ex military asshole, especially when they'd have to come all the way down to Georgia to find him.

Merle kept his body still and listened until he was mostly sure that whoever jumped him wasn't around at the moment. He fluttered his eyes open a few times. But the only thing in his line of sight was the cement wall of the unfinished basement. If he wanted a better look around, he was going to have to move. He didn't want to do that until he was sure he wasn't going to be knocked back out.

Merle moved slowly, rolling his head in the other direction. His first instinct was correct. He was in a residential basement. The place didn't look familiar to him. But all unfinished basements looked about the same. The walls were exposed cement blocks. There was an open riser style staircase on one side of the room. He could see exposed floor beams, metal piping, and heating ductwork above his head.

A soft whimper caught his attention. Merle shifted his body towards the noise. What he saw there sent a jolt of shock and fear through his body. He bolted into a sitting position. The sudden movement caused a rush of blood and throbbing pain to his head. But he ignored it completely. Several feet away from him was his younger daughter. Wren's wrists were bound behind her back. She was gagged. And her ankles were tied together. When she realized for sure that he was awake, Wren immediately started making as much noise as she could through the fabric gag. She struggled against her bindings, wriggling like a worm and twisting her shoulders. Merle put his finger up to his mouth, signally for her to be quiet.

The obvious negative in his situation was that his daughter was also being held by the same man that tased him and knocked him unconscious. But the positive was, now that he knew Wren was here too, Merle knew who was responsible. He only got a brief glimpse of the man. But it was long enough to know that he could take him in a physical fight if the asshole didn't shoot him with a stun gun first. This guy wasn't a rival biker or a drug dealer. He was just some stupid nutcase that couldn't get over the fact that his wife left him.

The sound of heavy tread at the top of the staircase caught Merle's attention. He held his finger to his lips again, letting Wren know she needed to keep quiet before he lay back down and shut his eyes. He forced his body to go as limp as he could given how tense he actually was. The man approached him, leaning over his body until he was satisfied that Merle was still unconscious. Then he moved towards Wren. Merle could hear her squealing and screaming against the gag.

"Time to call your mom," Ed announced. He grabbed Wren by the chin. "I'm going to take this gag off. And if you start screaming again, I'm going to beat you bloody. You understand me girl?"

Wren nodded, sucking in a hard breath when Ed pulled the thick fabric gag down off her mouth. He untied her ankles next. And then he marched her up the creaky wooden stairs with his fingers clenched around her arm.

Once Merle heard the door at the top of the stairs snap shut, he sat back up and took a better look at his current situation. His right hand was cuffed to a thick copper pipe. He gripped the pipe, wiggling it to check for weak spots. Unfortunately, it felt solid. And there was no joint point he could unscrew or wrench open. Even with bolt cutters, he might not be able to get through the thick metal. He tested the cuffs next, tugging to see how tight the cuff was around his wrist. He pulled until he felt the metal biting into his flesh, wishing he was the one that was double jointed instead of River.

The pipe was solid. And wherever the asshole got them, the handcuffs were the real deal. This wasn't Merle's first time in cuffs. He knew they were made of tempered steel. They'd be tough to remove even with a heavy duty pair of bolt cutters. Not that it mattered, because he certainly didn't have any of those around.

Merle needed to get the rest of his body free. And between the cuffs, the pipe, and his wrist, the weakest link was his flesh and bone. Merle pulled his leather belt free from his pant loops. With it in his hand, he moved his body until he was squatting down at a slightly awkward angle. He placed his cuffed hand on the cement floor. He took a few deep breaths before he clenched the leather of the belt between his teeth to keep himself from screaming. He gripped the copper pipe with his free hand to steady his body. And then he brought the heel of his boot down on his right hand. The pain was like a shot of white lightning through his body. But the leather of the belt muffed his cry of pain. He brought his foot down again. This time Merle heard and felt the bones in his hand break.

The pain made him dizzy. And for a moment, the world spun around him. But Merle bit down on the leather between his teeth to keep himself conscious. It wouldn't be long before his hand started to swell. He needed to get this done quickly. Merle shifted his maimed hand, moving the cuff slightly higher on his arm before he brought his heel down on his wrist. The bones shattered against the cement floor. The leather belt slipped from his mouth, landing on the floor near his disfigured hand. Merle forced back the nausea as he gripped the cuff with his left hand. And then he forced his mangled wrist through the narrow steel hole.

Holding his injured hand close to his body, Merle staggered across the cement floor. Little white dots were swimming in front of his eyes. He wasn't sure if they were from the concussion he certainly had, the pain from stomping his hand into hamburger, or both. Before he could start to waver, a high pitched scream from above him sent enough adrenaline surging through his body to keep him on his feet. There wasn't much to choose from in the way of weapons in the mostly empty basement. Plastic lawn chairs and bins full of sewing supplies weren't going to do him any good. Under the stairs, there was a pile of some discarded wood from some sort of home improvement project. Merle grabbed a two by four that was only a few feet long. Gripping it in his hand, he staggered up the creaky basement steps.

Merle was trying to be as quiet as possible. But when he arrived in the kitchen, he realized his stealth wasn't necessary. The man he was after was too busy smacking Merle's twelve year old daughter around to even notice that he'd emerged from the basement. Ed backhanded Wren across the face, sending her flying to the floor as her chair flipped sideways out from under her.

"Hey!," Merle barked.

Ed turned towards his voice. But he didn't even make it all the way around before Merle slammed the long chunk of wood into the side of his head. Ed staggered to the side. If he wasn't badly injured, Merle might have let the man come at him. He might have drawn the fight out. But currently, he was in no mood for nonsense. He pounded Ed in the head a second time before he even had a moment to recover from the first blow. The second hit knocked him to the floor. Once Ed was down, the length of wood slipped from Merle's hand as he collapsed onto the floor. Wren glanced between her father and their attacker as she scooted backwards on her butt as she wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth.

Wren's eyes widened when her sister suddenly appeared in the kitchen doorway. Daryl boosted Harley up onto the back porch roof so that she could climb in through the upstairs window. She was supposed to pull him up behind her. But then she heard her sister screaming inside the house. Harley came rushing down the steps to save her sister from Carol's ex husband. But instead she watched her father knock the monster to the floor.

Harley stepped forward, assessing the situation. Ed was down. But he wasn't out. He rolled onto his back, moaning in pain as he reached for his injured head.

"Close your eyes," she warned.

Wren clenched her eyes shut as Harley pulled the sleeves of her flannel down to cover her hands. She picked up the length of wood her father used to knock Ed to the ground. And then Harley beat him to death in the middle of the kitchen floor. When she was done Harley dropped the two by four back where she found it, between Ed's body and her father. By the time Daryl came rushing down the stairs, Harley was on the floor holding her sister in her lap.

"He was already dead when I got here," Harley explained. Wren popped her head up, her eyes meeting her sister's for just a moment before she turned towards her uncle.

"That's right," Wren confirmed. "Daddy saved us."