Then There Were Three

CH 19

*ATTENTION: THIS CHAPTER IS IN ELLIE MAE'S POINT OF VIEW!!!!*

 I can feel the cold concrete against my raw cheek. Why it's raw, I have no idea. 

"Is she still unconscious?" I hear a voice speak from far away. 

"Guess so, we should get her up," another voice says. I hear running water, than footsteps coming closer and closer to where I'm laying.

"Miss? Miss," I'm being shook, but I can't bring myself to open my eyes. Once I open my eyes, I'm afraid I'll be faced with something I can't handle.

"She's not going to wake up like that. Get out of the way, Ash," I hear a deep voice say, familiar to what I heard behind my ear as I was held at gunpoint. 

I get cold water splashed in my face, making my shoot up, hitting my head on a metal pipe. I gasp for air, rubbing my head to ease the throbbing. 

"Good morning, sweetheart," The man that held me at gunpoint kneels down across from me. "Don't call me that," I spit. Kendall used to call me that because it annoyed me. Where's Kendall? Is he ok? 

I try to scoot closer to the wall, but realize I'm handcuffed to the pipe above my head. I glare at the man in front of me. Long gray hair and a scruffy beard, though he couldn't be older than 60. 

"What do you want?" I ask, my voice trembling even if I'm trying to stay strong. 

"You must know  something about the guns, the weapons. Where are they?" He asks, leaning closer towards me.

"I have no idea what you're t-talking about," I look straight into his eyes, refusing to give up. I'm not lying, I really don't have any idea what he means by guns and weapons. 

I get slapped across the face, on my already raw cheek. Sucking in a breath, I look back over at him with a glare. "Don't lie, princess. I don't like lying," 

"I really don't have a," I pause, trying to regain my composure, "I really don't have a clue what you're talking about," 

Before I know it, the man has a knife ripped out of his jeans, holding it against my trachea, the side threatening to rip my throat open. 

"I'm not playing any games with you. Either you tell me, or you die," 

"Guess I'm gonna die then," I smirk at him, making him scoff. He pulls the knife away from my throat, standing up. He can't kill me, he won't kill me. Instead, he takes the knife and swipes it across my left eyebrow.  Not big enough for it to bleed immensely; but enough for it to  sting. 

"Ashton, get some food for Princess," the man says, still looking straight at me. 

"Yes, father," I hear a boy say, though I can't see his face. 

I hear footsteps, as the boy named Ashton walks over to me, a plate of canned pineapple and a cup full of water in his hands. He kneels in front of me, setting the plate and water down.

I look away, waiting for him to get up and leave; but he doesn't.

"What do you want?" I spit at him, which causes my cheek to sting. 

"To help," He says, reaching in his pocket. I finally look over at him. He looks nothing like his father. Different bone structure, blue eyes instead of murky hazel, tan skin. He must've been the one that carried to and from the car, his muscles are chisled. 

"Help with what?" I ask, "There's no way you can." 

He doesn't say anything, just stands up and steps into the darkness. I hear running water again. 

The boy named Ashton walks back over with a wet wash cloth and bottle of peroxide in his hand. He dumps the peroxide onto the cloth and looks at me, "Turn towards your right, please," he instructs. I do as I'm told. Ashton pressing the warm cloth onto my raw cheek, making me grit my teeth in pain, "It'll only hurt for a little bit. Better than having an infection, right?" Ashton smiles weakly at me, rubbing the washcloth around my cheek which makes it hurt even more. He then moves to the fresh cut on my eyebrow, which hurts ten times more than my cheek does.

"Ow, can you s-stop, please," I say, squeezing my eyes shut. He  pulls the cloth away from my face, "sorry." he says. 

I grab the plate of pineapple, Ashton sitting in front of me, "Why are you being nice to me?" 

Ashton sighs, looking straight at me, "I didn't choose to do this. To be here with my father. My mom dropped me off here after things got bad. I haven't seen him since I was 4, now I see why," he continues, "I'm only trying to not keep you alive. I don't want to witness someone else dying," he shakes his head, pulling the empty plate and plastic cup along with him. 

"Thank you," I say, trying to smile; which only causes more pain. Ashton nods, putting a finger to his lips, "He's coming." 

"I told you to get her food, not help her," The man hisses, slapping Ashton across the face. I gasp, squeezing my eyes shut.

"Looks like your knight in shining armor isn't coming. Guess it's okay if I kill you now," He says with a laugh. "I want you to go through as much pain as possible," He pauses, "Let's start by cutting off those pretty little lips of yours," 

The man takes out his knife, placing it firmly on the side of my lips. 

"Father, don't. Please," Ashton begs. The man stands up and grabs Ashton by his hair, pulling him away. 

"Now that we're alone, let's start this again; shall we?" He smirks, placing the knife on my lips again, just as the door of the shed bursts open, "Let her GO!"