Loving You

Chapter Twenty-Eight

September 17, 1956 4 AM

*Jessica POV*

I stand staring at the note, my hands shaking as Tyler comes bursting into the room. "Where are they?" He asks in a hushed tone. I shake my head, tears spilling from my eyes. He grabs the note from my hand and reads it, "Shit." He walks around the suite, evidently searching for them. A moment later, he comes out of the bedroom, "They aren't here. The window's open, so they must have gone down the fire escape."

A soft knock rasps at the door, before both Gladys and Vernon enter the suite. Tyler looks up, his pistol armed, before sticking it into his holster. "Where's Elvis, Jessica?" Gladys asks, wringing her hands in her nightgown.

I bite my lip, I didn't want to tell her that he was missing; it would kill her. I swallow hard, her eyes boring into mine. "Ma'am, there's been a little bit of a situation. The man that's been after Jessica showed up tonight, and he got ahold of Elvis. Apparently as some sort of ransom for Jessica. But don't worry, I'm going to find him," Tyler explains softly, then walks over to the phone. "I just need to call for some backup." He lifts the phone and dials the police station. "Hello, this is officer Tyler Murray, I need to speak with Sergeant Douglas about the Drew case... Yes, I'll wait." He sighs softly and looks at the group of us standing there, "We're gonna get to the bottom of this, I'll personally see to it." He pauses for a moment, "Yes, I'm still here, Sergeant Douglas. Y-yes... There's been a break in the case. Well..." he sighs, "I'm going to need you to come to the hotel I'm staying in. And plenty of backup also. Dylan has been here, and he's run off with the Presley boy."

Gladys gasps, "My poor baby!" She clings to Vernon, sobbing into his shoulder. I go to the bedroom, staring out the now open window. I walk over and find the fire escape three feet below the window. After changing, I slip out the window without notice. I didn't know where Dylan had taken Elvis, but I knew I would search the whole city until I found them.

*Dylan POV*

I can't believe I'm going to get away with this! I drag the unconscious body of stupid Elvis Presley into the rusted out train car I've been staying in, and toss him to the floor. I'd gotten him out of the hotel by cracking him across the head with my pistol. My intention wasn't to kill him, just keep him here while I went back for my baby. I knew now that I had her 'boyfriend', Jessica would be easier to take hold of. I just needed to get to her without the presence of police. However, she had been alone in the suite with him when I arrived. And it's not like it was hard to get in there. What kind of an idiot leaves a key outside of their room when there's a convict on the loose. I look at Elvis and smirk as I start to bind his hands, "This kind of idiot, I suppose."

I slip the ankle cuff I have on him, tighten it, then latch it to one of the hooks in the car, there was no way he was getting out now. And since this was an abandoned location, there was no way anyone could hear him yelling for help when he wakes up. After changing into dark clothes so I couldn't be seen as well, I head out to the car I'd taken from some old woman back in New Orleans. Finding Jessica would be simple, but finding her alone would be nearly impossible.

***

After driving for about an hour, I spot her walking on the side of the road, searching everywhere frantically, most likely for her 'boyfriend'. Funny enough, she was walking by herself. I pull off on the side of the road near her, watching as she doesn't notice me. This was going to be easy, real easy. I leave the car running as I climb out and walk up behind her; still she doesn't look at me. This was absolutely unbelievable. I was a mere two feet from her at this point, and she hadn't even looked over her shoulder at me; almost like she wanted me to take her.

After following her for a clip, I reach forward and grab her, one hand on her waist and the other covering her mouth. She begins to kick and scream against my palm. I love when she pretends to not want me. She's such a little tease. I drag her back to my car, throwing a cloth sack over her head and binding her hands behind her back. I toss her into the backseat and quickly climb up front. "Dylan," she whimpers, "they're going to find you. If you do anything to me, I'll make sure they find you."

I glance over my shoulder into the backseat as I start the car up, "Not where I'm taking you, honey."

***

September 17, 1956 5 AM

*Jessica POV*

Shit. How could I have possibly been so stupid as to go out on my own? Now I was stuck in the backseat of Dylan's disgusting smelling car, bound and blinded by this stupid bag. Don't get me wrong, I was utterly terrified- shaken to he core- but I was more mad at myself for being so caught up in my search for Elvis, that I didn't even think to consider that Dylan would be looking for me. "Dylan..." I whimper as we drive endlessly, "Please... just let Elvis go. You can do whatever you want to me, just let him go..."

The car lurches to a stop, my body being thrown into the backseat. The driver's door opens and slams shut, and soon the door beside me opens. Dylan's hands are on me again as he yanks me out and against his chest. His lips meet just beside my ears, and I could feel his breath even through this bag. "Oh I intend to let him go, just as soon as he sees how you're really supposed to be pleasured."

My body stalls. He was going to attack me again... in front of Elvis... Hot tears spill down my cheeks, soaking into the bag as they drop off my chin. I start to thrash again. "No!" I scream at the top of my lungs, hoping desperately that someone would hear me.

"No one's going to hear you, baby. I've got you someplace secret." I'm set down, and instantly the cuffs on my wrists are replaced with two strands of thick rope. It's tied tightly, almost to the point of losing circulation, and the bag is torn off my face.

I blink rapidly, my surroundings coming to me slowly. I look around and spot a figure slumped in the corner. "Elvis!" I shriek, hoping he hears me. When he's unresponsive, I look up and see Dylan smiling, "What did you do to my boyfriend you psycho?"

Dylan howls with laughter, "I made him easier to transport. When he wakes up, I'm going to show him how you really like to be pleasured. Hopefully it'll be soon, I'm getting rather impatient..."

I swallow hard. I hope he never wakes up, and I really mean that. My eyes flick to Elvis as he begins to stir and tug on his ankle cuff. "No! Elvis, go back to sleep!" I begin to sob loudly, fear wracking my whole body. I felt nauseated again, but there was no way I would be able to throw up, I was too frozen in fear. I begin to hyperventilate as I look up at Dylan, watching as he pulls his dark, hooded sweater off. No. No. No. This isn't going to happen.

"Oh this is happening baby, I've waited far too long." Dylan grins as he speaks. Apparently reading my thoughts, unless I'd spoken aloud? 

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***READ THIS PORTION, IT'S IMMENSELY IMPORTANT AND PERTAINS TO THE FOLLOWING CHAPTER***
Guys, I know this chapter was short, but for good measure. I just want to warn everyone now, that the next chapter is going to feature content that is going to be rather heavy. It may triggers those of you who have experienced intense trauma, but it's vital to the storyline. I'll try to put a page number to skip to if you don't want to read the content at the beginning of the chapter. Just know that I love you all, and it's you who have made this book ☺️ It's not the writer that matters, but the readers.