Loving You

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Hey guys, just going to put a warning here. I'm going to warn you that there's triggers in here, so be mindful. I will put a bolder break when the trigger ends so you guys know if you want to skip it. It'll look like ***** rather than the usual ***.

September 17, 1956 6 AM

*Elvis POV*

Slowly, my eyes open and adjust to the dimly lit room I was in. Where the hell am I? And what am I doing here? "No Dylan! Stop! Please!" My head jerks in the direction of Jessica's voice. I find Dylan laying on top of her.

"Hey, stop!" I rise, finding that my hands are bound together. I take a couple steps in their direction, and in a matter of seconds, I'm flat on my face. What the hell? I look back, finding my ankle cuffed to a chain that's reached its movement point. I felt ridiculous. I needed to help Jessica. He had her pinned, her dress torn off and himself well on the way to harming her again. "Listen here you bastard, if I get my hands on you, the last thing you'll see is my smilin' face chokin' the life out of you!"

Dylan starts to laugh, hysterically, "You won't be getting your hands on me, and if you do, it definitely will be the last thing you do!" He resumes binding Jessica, kissing her neck as he does. I could feel how uncomfortable she was, writhing to get away with every last ounce of her strength.

I try, again, to move towards him, the chain clinking and my body lurching to the ground with another hard thud. A pain in my shoulder began to develop, and I was sure I was close to breaking something. But no way in hell was I going to stop, especially not when the girl I love is being hurt by the same guy, right in front of me. I manage to get up again, just as Jessica screams; it was a sickening scream, one that'll haunt me for the rest of my life. I knew in that moment, that he'd entered her.

"Oh God, you feel good. Why did I ever let you get away?" My blood boils as Dylan speaks. He was psychotic and I wished I had a gun, I'd end his life if I could. I lurch forward, hearing the chain creak. Hopefully it'll break. I try again, and it makes the same noise. I look over my shoulder, finding that one of the links was close to breaking.

I lunge forward as hard as I can, the chain snapping against my weight. Dylan was too engrossed in what he was doing to notice that I'd broken free. I quickly locate the knife in my pants pocket, which I'd grabbed when Dylan told me I needed to get dressed. Frantically, I position it between my thumbs and start to cut away at the rope. Quickly, a cramp develops in my wrists, and I need a break. I sit, in the same position I'd been in, positioning the chain so it looked like it was still attached to my ankle. I set my hands between my knees and resume sawing. When the rope snaps free, I stand and race out the door, "Jessica, I'll be back," I whisper to myself as I sprint, full speed in whichever direction my body told me to. I needed to get to town, needed to get to the police and tell them where Jessica was.

*Jessica POV*

I scream, pushing hard against Dylan, but it was no use. He was still much bigger than me, and I couldn't fight him. I felt sick, but I couldn't throw up, my body wouldn't let me. "Hours and hours baby," Dylan says above me, "that's what we're gonna have. And when we're finished, you can say goodbye to your little boyfriend." I try fighting him off of me again so I can catch a glimpse at Elvis. I heard noise a bit ago, but couldn't see anything.

When I look over, I don't see him, and I see the chains and rope that he'd been bound by before. Relief washes over me as I realize he's left to go get help. I tense up again as Dylan grins, "That's it baby, just relax. I'll make you feel so good."

I reach up and slap him, hard. He pauses for a moment, his face contorting. "No!" I scream. He could never make me feel good. "I hope you die you prick!"