Broken Wings

Chapter 17

Blake's phone was ringing. He glanced at the screen and saw that it was Jane, which he found odd. She rarely called him, and they weren't really on speaking terms at the moment after she'd told him last week that she didn't want to see him anymore. Maybe she had changed her mind?

"Hello?" Blake answered.

"Hello, Blake," said a voice on the other end. A male voice.

"Who is this?" Blake demanded. Something wasn't right.

"It's Jordan, you motherfucker. Maybe you remember me, huh, brother? I'm here with your little girlfriend," said the ominous voice.

NO. No no no no no.

"Jordan, you little fuck, where the fuck are you?! Where is Jane?! I wanna talk to her!" Blake demanded.

"Better yet, I'll let you see her. I want you to see what I'm going to do to her. I want you to watch her die. I sent you a link."

Blake checked his phone. Numbly, he opened the link to the livestream that Jordan had sent him. The video was pixelated, but there was no doubt that the girl kneeling on the floor, hands tied behind her back with hair disheveled and blood running down her face was Jane. Blake screamed obscenities into the phone for a moment before he realized Jordan had already hung up on him.

With that, Blake jumped to his feet knowing there was no time to waste. Hastily, he grabbed various pieces of computer equipment that lay scattered around his living room and his laptop and ran out to his car. Using internet service from his phone, he was still able to keep Jordan's video stream live, although sometimes it lagged and occasionally the audio was garbled. The sounds of Jane's screaming and Jordan's sick taunting was almost more than he could handle. She was fighting back against him the best she could, but she wouldn't be able to keep it up for long.

Blake brought up the SatTrac program on his laptop, and mercifully the little dot showed up not terribly far from Blake's house. He estimated he could be there in about 10 minutes if he was fast and he didn't run into any cops along the way. He had no doubt that when Jordan finished with his game he would kill her. Knowing Jordan, he would take his time, taking pleasure from torturing Jane on camera and thinking that Blake would have no idea how to find him. He was so stupid. Any idiot would know enough to turn off the phone and take the SIM card out.

Blake glanced at the video feed while he sped off. Jordan was standing in front of her, holding Jane by the hair so that she was looking up at him.

"Tell ya what, why don't I give you the chance to convince me I should let you live," Jordan said. He unzipped his pants, and pulled Jane's head closer to him. She jerked her head away violently, but his grip on her hair kept her from moving much.

"Hmm, feisty, aren't you? We'll see how long that will last," Jordan said, then he hit her across the face, hard. She screamed and thrashed, trying her hardest to get away from him, but it was hopeless. Blake turned his attention away from the screen, choosing to focus on the road ahead and slamming the gas pedal down.

Minutes later, fueled by adrenaline and fury, Blake kicked down the front door to the apartment from which he could hear Jane's desperate cries. Jordan didn't even have a moment to react before Blake grabbed him by the throat, and threw him to the floor and began punching him in the face repeatedly. Jane watched silently from the floor, half undressed, with her ripped clothing strewn around the room, stunned by the sudden turn of events. Blake was going to kill him, she realized numbly as the seemingly unconscious man's blood began to pool under him. She had never seen someone get beaten so badly.

"Blake!" Jane choked out, suddenly finding her voice. He paused then, turning toward her almost as if he just realized she was there. Blake dropped the boy and went to Jane, taking his knife out of his pocket to cut the zip tie around her wrists. Shakily, she began to pick up her clothes off the floor and dress herself. But while Blake's attention was diverted, Jordan had managed to crawl away and get to his feet, stumbling down the short hallway to the back of the apartment.