Beyond Love Lies Deceit Read online

Ryan may not be able to tell me where Allie is but I know for one hundred percent certainty that he is somehow tied to her being here in the first place.

  I just need to find out why...

  Chapter

  Twenty-Seven

  Samantha

  My eyes feel weighted, like they are being held closed. I struggle to open them. I struggle to keep them open once I manage to get them there. I can feel myself fading in and out of consciousness, unable to find the strength to fight any longer.

  The flesh on my wrists is torn and tattered from trying to work the ropes loose. I can’t see them but I can feel it. I can feel the jagged skin catch painfully every time I move; I can feel the blood running down my hands.

  I need to fight, I know I do, but the moment I wrap my mind around the thought the blackness takes me under again.

  ****

  Finally managing to get my eyes open, the room is barely visible. My vision is blurred making it difficult for me to focus on any one thing. My head bobs a little before I find the strength to finally hold it completely upright.

  I can hear his footsteps above, one after another. They never stop. He never leaves. I tense when I hear him coming again. His steps echoing through the otherwise silent room, becoming louder the closer he gets.

  Slumping my head back down, I pretend to be unconscious, hoping that he will simply leave but prepared to fight if he doesn’t. I hear him enter, holding my breath with each painfully slow step he takes towards me until I feel him stop directly next to me.

  “It won’t be long now my dear.” I hear him rasp in my ear, his breath hot on the side of my face. “But just to be sure you don’t cause any problems.” I hear him say just moments before the jab of the needle hits my neck.

  The sudden pain makes me jump which prompts Ryan’s laughter to fill the room just as everything once again fades to black.

  ****

  I strain through the silence, trying to check for signs that Ryan is nearby before I attempt to pull my eyes open. I can hear nothing; nothing beyond the occasional creak of the floor below me and the faint sound of the water lapping around the sides of the boat.

  For a moment I wonder if I am still alive, if I am still here. When Ryan stuck the needle in my neck this last time I thought for sure that would be it; that I would never wake up again. But I guess I should have known better. He’s not done toying with me yet.

  By this point he could have killed me, disposed of my body and returned to his normal life like nothing had even happened. It’s his spitefulness and his need to hurt me that will ultimately be his downfall. I’m not ready to die, but if I do I am going to make damn sure I take Ryan Scott down with me.

  Lifting my head, my neck is nearly unable to support the weight and I struggle once again to keep it upright. I have no concept of time. No real idea of how long I have been down here, beaten and deprived of food and water.

  I know that if I want any hope of making it out of here alive that I have to find a way out of the restraints. I cry out when I twist my wrist, the shirt wedged between my lips muffling the sound as I pull harder and harder against the rope binding me to the chair.

  Tears flood my vision as I continue pulling and twisting against the rope, each movement becoming more painful than the last until I am convinced that I can take no more. Refusing to give up, I fight through the pain. I fight past the tears and through the rip of my skin as it tears against the ropes.

  Minutes pass, one after another, each as painful as the last but I am determined to not just sit here and let Ryan kill me. I won’t let him win... Not this time.

  I cry out both in pain and relief when I finally manage to get my left hand free. A rush of adrenaline suddenly kicks in and I am twisting and yanking at the ropes, finally managing to also free my right hand. Still in disbelief that my hands are actually free, I immediately remove my gag and make for the ropes around my ankles.

  I find it much easier to free my legs since I can use my fingers to untie the knots. Even still, it takes me several minutes to finally remove the last of my restraints. When I manage to pull myself into a stand, my entire body revolts the movement and I collapse down onto the floor, so weak I can barely find the strength to stand.

  Taking a deep breath, I manage to find strength from somewhere deep inside of me and push myself back up. Whether it is my family or simply my will to live, I don’t know, but something is driving me, willing me to escape.

  I breathe a sigh of relief when I realize the door to the room is not locked. Clearly Ryan didn’t think there was any chance of me breaking free from the restraints, especially considering he’s kept me drugged nearly this entire time.

  Pushing my way out of the room, I stumble up the shallow staircase to the surface above, collapsing onto the deck the moment I reach it.

  Even in the darkness of the night I can see that Ryan is not on board. My heart begins pumping faster than I think it ever has before the moment I realize that we are still docked at the marina, that there is still a chance that I can make it out of here.

  Taking a deep breath, I crawl on my hands and knees towards the dock, more determined than ever before to make it off this boat and out of the clutches of Ryan Scott.

  Stumbling down the ramp, I hit the dock on a loud thud, my legs not able to support my own weight from the steep step down. Pushing back up, I run as fast as my body will allow down the dock, my bare feet sounding lightly against the wood with each step I take.

  I finally reach the gate that separates the private dock from the marina but before I can make a move I am paralyzed by the sound of oncoming footsteps. I know it’s Ryan. I can feel it in the fear that slowly creeps up my back the closer the footsteps get to me.

  Before the approaching individual comes into view, I quickly drop to the ground and roll behind a boat trailer parked just feet from the gate, holding my breath as I listen to the footsteps get closer. My heart is thumping inside of my chest so loudly I swear there’s no way that he won’t be able to hear it. It beats viscously against my ribcage as I wait through each painfully slow second that ticks by.

  It isn’t until the person passes the trailer that I turn my head to the side and chance a look in their direction, a violent shudder running through me the moment my fear is confirmed.

  It is Ryan.

  He’s got a bag in one hand and his other tucked into his jacket. I barely get a good glimpse at him before he begins fading into the darkness, the dim overhead lamps offering very little light. Knowing it will be only moments before he steps on board and realizes I am gone, I have to act now.

  Pushing up, I keep my body hunched over as I slip through the gate and out into the main part of the marina. I run as quickly as I can, which in my current state equates to a slow jog, my legs having trouble supporting my own weight given the weakness of my body.

  My face is swollen and my throat is so dry that I find it impossible to do something as simple as swallow. My gray sleeveless shift dress is ripped at the bust and torn slightly at the bottom, the front covered in blood though I can’t be sure where exactly it came from.

  Ryan is sure to have realized I am gone by now and I know I have not made it as far as I need to. For someone who may be looking for me I stand out like a sore thumb. I am lucky enough to have the night on my side but at the same time, the darkness and absence of people makes me even more anxious.

  I stop at every vehicle that is parked on my way out, checking each one to see if it is locked or if anyone left their keys inside. I know it’s a long shot but it’s the only one I’ve got right now.

  Every noise makes me jump as I weave through the marina. Every corner I turn I swear I see Ryan behind me. I need to find a way back to the city.

  I don’t know if I can risk going back to my apartment on the off chance that Ryan has figured out my actual residence but I truly have nowhere else I can go. Everything I have is there, including what little money I have saved.

  Slipping in between two ve
hicles needing to rest, I hunch over trying to catch my breath and figure out my next move. I have nothing. No money, no phone, no way of reaching my apartment. I have no idea what I am going to do next.

  Looking into the truck directly in front of me, my heart picks up speed when I realize that the keys are inside. For a moment I consider climbing into the truck and just disappearing. Simply slipping off into the night and never looking back. Leaving would be easier. But leaving this all behind also means I would be leaving Luke. Knowing what I now know about Ryan, there is no way I can do that.

  Ryan is a murderer. Now more than ever I have to see this through. If I don’t, all of this will have been for nothing and I can’t accept that.

  Sliding into the driver’s seat of the run down pickup truck, I close the door as quietly as possible, immediately reaching for the keys. The moment the truck grumbles to life I throw it into gear, knowing that if Ryan spots me, he can easily trail me wherever I go.

  I know stealing a car is probably not the best choice but right now I am in survival mode. I just need to get out of here. I make it out of the marina within seconds, the wheels of the truck screeching as I pull out onto the street too quickly. I am so lightheaded and disoriented that I find my perception is a bit off.

  I pass a convenience store on my way out of town. For a brief moment I consider stopping to call the police but then immediately dismiss the idea. They would probably have him in custody in the matter of minutes but that doesn’t mean that’s where he would stay.

  I may know the truth about Sarah and Sean but that doesn’t mean I have any proof. I am also sure that Ryan will have erased any trace that I was ever on the boat by the time the police could get there. I know I don’t have a leg to stand on. And if Ryan Scott has taught me anything it’s that there’s nothing he can’t either talk or buy his way out of.

  If I want to end this, I have to end it my way.

  I can’t help but look behind me every few seconds to make sure that I am not being followed. I tense with every pair of headlights I see and sometimes even convince myself that it’s Ryan. I try to shake off the fear that continues to control my mind and keep my focus on what’s to come.

  My body is exhausted and I know I have demanded too much out of it tonight. And unfortunately I am going to have to ask for more.

  Ryan is not going to just let me go so easily. If he knows where I live, I’ll be lucky if he’s not already there. If he doesn’t, it won’t be long before he figures it out. My window of time is very small. I need to get home, pack a few things, grab some cash and disappear for a little while until I can sort all of this out and figure out my next move.

  I just hope it’s not already too late.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Eight

  Luke

  Westwood Apartment Complex is a rundown building that sits just on the edge of downtown. In the late evening darkness it looks more like an old warehouse than a building people actually live in. It houses about thirty apartments, most of which are occupied by less than desirable inhabitants. This is a rough part of town and just the thought of Allie living here makes me nervous.

  The hallway paint is chipped and peeling. The carpet is stained and worn. In the two minutes it takes me to reach Allie’s door I overhear two different shouting matches and one apartment that sounds as though five babies are inside screaming profusely.

  Raising my fist to the tattered wood door with the crooked number sixteen screwed into it, I knock lightly, listening closely for any signs of someone inside. Several moments pass before I raise my hand and knock again, this time much louder.

  Nothing...

  Reaching out, I twist the knob, surprised to find it unlocked. Why would anyone leave their apartment unlocked in this type of neighborhood? Finding it odd, fear instantly creeps into the pit of my stomach as I push the door open, not yet sure of what to expect.

  I let out a slow exhale as I step inside, closing the door behind me. The apartment is quiet and appears to be empty. Flipping on a nearby light switch, the moment the room comes into view my stomach twists again.

  It makes me ill to think that Allie has been living here for God knows how long. The apartment is tidy and seems well kept but that doesn’t make up for the peeling paint, stained floors, or the fact that the entire apartment is one square room.

  There’s a small kitchen, if that’s what you would call it, along the same wall as the door. Two mattresses stacked on top of each other in the far left corner, and a ratty old couch sitting along the back wall. There is nothing here that ties Allie to the space. No pictures, no décor, just four blank walls.

  In fact, the only thing in the entire room outside of the very few pieces of furniture is a half painted canvas propped on a stand in front of the only window in the apartment. Crossing the space, the moment I get close enough to really study the painting I am immediately in awe. The talent of the artist is so blindingly clear.

  I had no idea Allie painted and the thought saddens me more than I expect it to. There is so much about this girl I don’t know, so much I want to know.

  Reaching out, I trial my fingers lightly across the paint strokes. I can envision Allie standing here, an old ratty paint stained t-shirt covering her petite frame, her hair pulled away from her face, her forehead scrunched together as she concentrates on the canvas in front of her.

  The thought even manages to bring a smile to my face. That is until I remember that the girl I am envisioning doesn’t actually even exist. A stranger lives here. A stranger painted this incredible piece. A stranger...

  A loud thud behind me immediately pulls my attention to the door and I spin just in time to catch sight of a bloody Allie as she stumbles inside. She barely makes it two steps before she catches sight of me, stopping mid-step as she stares back at me, her entire face frozen with fear.

  “Allie?” I barely get out, my voice getting lost somewhere in the air.

  I only get a glimpse of her swollen face before she turns away from my gaze.

  Showing next to no reaction to finding me standing in her apartment, she stumbles through the space like she is heavily intoxicated. It’s clear to see she’s injured, I just don’t know the extent and I didn’t get a good enough look at her face to really assess the situation.

  Crossing to the kitchen, she retrieves a glass from the cabinet before turning on the water, her hands shaking so badly that she drops it before she can even get it filled. It pings around the sink before shattering, the sound ringing through the small room.

  Reaching for another glass, she manages to get this one filled before lifting it to her lips and draining the contents in the matter of seconds. I stand frozen, not sure how to react, as she fills the glass again and drains it as well, drinking like she hasn’t done so in days.

  “We have to get out of here.” She finally speaks, letting the glass roll out of her hand into the sink.

  She stumbles across the room without even a glance in my direction, stopping in front of a small door that sits along the left wall next to the two mattresses that are stacked on top of each other.

  “Allie.” I repeat, taking a step towards her as she slides open the door and pulls out a duffel bag from the small closet, tossing it onto the bed.

  “He’s coming.” Her voice trembles as she pulls things from the closet and shoves the items haphazardly inside the bag, not once facing me.

  “Who’s coming?” I ask, trying to keep my distance.

  It’s clear something is very wrong here.

  “I have to go. I have to leave. He’s coming. He’s coming.” She chants, clearly disoriented.

  Zipping the bag, she tosses it over her shoulder before making a break for the door. Catching up to her just as she pulls the handle, I place my palm against the wood blocking her escape.

  “Let me go.” She cries, pulling viciously at the handle. “Please.” Her word is a sob that breaks off in her throat. “I don’t have much time.”

  From my vie
w point I can see that her dress is ripped and stained with blood. The side of her face has a bloody gash down it and she has several small bruises peppering her neck. It isn’t until I see the bloody mess around her wrists that I realize something is really wrong.

  “Hey.” I say softly, trying to soothe her.

  The moment my hand rests on her shoulder she jumps, clearly terrified.

  “I won’t hurt you.” I reassure her, once again resting my hand on her shoulder in an effort to somehow comfort her.

  “Allie what is going on? Who did this to you?” I ask, trying to make her face me.

  Sobs rake through her body and she collapses forward into the door, too weak to continue to fight.

  “I have to get out here.” She beats weakly against the wood. Her words are so blurred by the emotion in her voice that I am barely able to understand her.

  “Please, you have to get me out of here.” She turns towards me, offering me my first real look at her face.

  I take a ragged inhale at the sight, all the air leaving my body in an instant.

  Her entire face is swollen, blood stained and bruised. The gash on the side of her face is just the start. Her bottom lip is split and about three times its normal size. Her left eye is near black, another large gash just below it. She has a bloody knot on the right side of her forehead and other small bruises peppered across her jaw and cheekbones.

  The sight of her literally makes it difficult to breathe. Anger and rage seethe through me and I am momentarily blinded by the heaviness of those emotions.

  “Allie who did this to you?” I demand, placing my hands on both of her shoulders.

  She mumbles, her eyes unable to hold my focus as she sways from side to side. Her lips are moving but I can’t make out what she’s saying. Suddenly she slumps forward and I have to scramble to prevent her from falling to the floor.

  Wrapping my arms around her, I pull her into my chest, securing her against me. She trembles in my arms causing fear to cripple me. I need to get her to a doctor.