Stranded Ch. 17

"Do you like it, being the family doctor?"

"It has given me value, the conclave doesn't agree with letting me practice, but Dale says it makes me a true treasure." She blushed when she said it, obvious pride in her voice.

"Very few in the family are medically trained, and even though I never finished getting my degree, I was really, really close." she replied as we stopped by the bathroom to wash up. When she rolled her sleeves up, I caught myself staring, littering her arms were dozens of thin white lines, some more faded than others, almost as faded as the scars that covered Sam's back. She must have noticed me staring because she quickly dried her hands and pulled her sleeves down again.

"They...they're not self-inflicted, if that is what you're thinking." She sounded suddenly defensive.

"It's none of my business, unless, of course, you want to talk about it."

"Christopher...was my brother, I'm sure you've heard him mentioned...I was his first."

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up unpleasant memories."

"It's alright, that was a very long time ago. I have come to terms with it because I was also his last." she replied, her words had taken on a dark tone that made me shiver. I recognized that look in her eyes, I had seen it often enough reflected in Arioch's. Poisoned blood indeed.

"How close did you get to finishing med school? I remember Sam told me your brother came to...fetch you."

"I was halfway through my residency when Clyde found me. About 6 years in..."

She had just worked 32 hours straight, she knew that Samson and his mother were missing, but Barbara and Harold, Lindsay's parents, insisted there was nothing she could do. Lindsay would not want her to quit, no matter how much she just wanted to go home. She could feel it in her gut, she knew what their disappearance meant. And while they called her every night, it did nothing to ease her concern. Harold had pepper spray delivered to her dorm, but she had already bought herself a hunting knife. Her head had just hit the pillow when her phone rang. At first, she anticipated it being Barbara and Harold, a swell of hope, maybe they were letting her know they had been found, but when she heard Samson, her heart sank.

"Auntie Em?"

"Samson? Sweetie, where are you? Where is your mother? Are you alright?" But the voice she heard next was Clyde's.

"Parking lot C. You have 3 minutes, if I see any sign of cops or campus security, he dies."

"He's your son." Emily objected.

"Is he though? You know I can always make more. Hurry, times ticking." Then the line went dead. She wrote a quick note and left it on her roommate's bed. If she called Lindsay's parents, she knew without a doubt they would call the authorities, and she did not doubt Clyde's threat for even a moment. She could not afford to.

Mom & Dad,

He came back for me. I must keep Samson safe. I love you both.

--Emily

It was short, but she did not want to waste any time. She ran out of the dorm room, not even taking the time to wear her shoes. She ran up and down the parking lot, calling for Samson until her voice was hoarse. He came forward, red eyed, tears pouring down his little face.

"I'm sorry auntie, I didn't want to...please...please don't be mad at me." She crouched so that she was more eye level. He was sobbing so hard he began to hiccup.

"Shh...it's okay. I am not mad; I do not blame you. I love you so very much! None of this is your fault." She hugged him tightly, wiping a few stray tears from his eyes. But then he looked up, over her shoulder, eyes wide. Emily felt the prick in her neck, and she turned, the mace already in her hands, spraying him directly in the eyes. He screamed, desperately trying to wipe away the burning liquid as a slew of curses left his mouth. Before he could regain his senses, she thrust out with her blade, catching him in the shoulder. He shouted, falling back a few steps as he stared down at the bleeding wound in his chest.

"Run Samson!"

"You run and your mother is dead." Clyde shouted, squinting through the burning liquid to swing at his sister. Emily swung the blade again, but he blocked it with his forearm. The sedative was taking effect, the knife fell, clattering against the cement.

"Run! Get...help!" Emily shouted, falling to her knees, the world blurring and spinning around her. But Samson remained frozen, tears pouring down his face.

"That's a good boy. Get in the car." Then everything went dark.

When she woke she was in a hotel room, Clyde sat at the small round table, a gun laying on its side, the barrel pointing in her direction, Samson sat on the other bed fast asleep, cartoons playing in the background.

"Hello, sister." He took a sip of his beer, a hand towel pressed against his wounded shoulder, was already soaked with blood. The cut on his forearm was wrapped in gauze, but that too, was soaked through.

"Brother." She nodded in his direction. They had thought him dead, but when they never found his body...she had known. The police had thought perhaps he had crawled into the forest to die, maybe the animals had gotten to him which is why they never found his body. But Emily knew better, deep down she knew he had gotten away. But never had she imagined he had come back.

"I'll go with you, no fighting if you let Samson go." Clyde chuckled, wincing as he set down his beer.

"He's my son and he's not going anywhere. I have already missed so much."

"Would you have really killed him?" He looked over at his sleeping son, then back to his sister.

"Didn't have to, I knew threatening was enough to make you come."

"I know you think what you're doing is right. I have spent years in therapy..." He slammed his fist on the table.

"Letting yourself get brainwashed by Heathens...Daddy would be so disappointed. The amount of sin that has tarnished your soul...I'm not sure you even can be saved."

"I don't need to be saved...how we were raised..."

"I don't want to hear the lies they've been feeding you." Emily pressed her lips tightly together, there was no reasoning with madness.

"Daddy was the liar." Even with his injuries Clyde moved fast, his hands on both sides of her face.

"You murdered our family, you don't get to tarnish Daddy's good name."

"I didn't..."

"You may not have been the one to kill Mama and Georgie, but it was because of what you did that they are dead! You gave her the sedative and the needles. I expected it from a heathen, but not my baby sister. One of God's chosen."

"Nobody was supposed to die..." That is why she stole the sedative, they were supposed to put everyone to sleep, then escape.

"I saw what you did to Christopher, Emily."

"That wasn't..."

"Don't you dare lie to me! Even after all these years I can tell when you're lying." The tears spilled more freely and a sob broke free.

"He was raping me, hurting me almost every day while you and Georgie did nothing. Lindsay was the only one who gave a damn, the heathen was the only one who saw and tried to help me."

"You could have come to me, could have told me..."

"Mama told me not to, said it was my fault."

"I am sorry for that, I am sorry I was so wrapped up in other things I didn't see what was happening. But this was not the answer."

"You were going to marry me off, I didn't know what else to do..."

"You don't murder your family and run away!" He shouted.

"I'm sorry." Clyde let out a cry of disgust, pushing her back as he sat back in his chair. Blood was now dripping from the cut on his arm, some of it having landed on Emily.

"Let me suture that for you..."

"So you can get close to me with another sharp object?"

"You're going to bleed to death."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" he sneered.

"Much to your disbelief, I don't want you dead. But judging from how pale you are, you have already lost a lot of blood and if I do not stop the bleeding, you won't be alive long enough to even raise your son." He grabbed the gun from the table and aimed it at her.

"Just in case you get any funny ideas." He lifted his black medicine bag and set it on the table with a grunt and Emily slowly stood, making her way towards it. She opened the bag, setting it out to take inventory of the supplies. He watched her closely as she picked up one of the small vials and she nearly dropped it when he reached out and grabbed her wrist.

"No."

"It's to numb the area."

"No." She turned the vial so that he could read the label.

"I'm not sedating you...you can see how much I'm giving you."

"I said no."

"Fine!" Sighing she set the bottle down, moving to wash her hands, the barrel never leaving her.

"Medical school, what an interesting choice."

"You know being a doctor is all I ever wanted, even as a little girl. It's why you started teaching me."

"And you know the family will never accept you as a doctor, even if you went out and got a fancy heathen degree, you're still a woman. The skills were supposed to make you a valuable wife." She did not reply, instead she pried open the sterile packages and began immediately threading the needle.

"Let's see that shoulder."

"After Michael was killed, I thought for sure I was coming back to be executed or married off to another son. But Dale, he saw my education as an asset and decided to marry me himself."

"But after being out there, seeing how different things can be. How can you be truly happy here?" She was silent for several minutes before she smiled and rested a hand on my shoulder.

"I have made my peace with it, as should you. I know it may not feel that way now, but if you gave yourself over to him, completely, you could be happy too. Let us see those fingers." I removed the melted bag of ice, some of the swelling had gone down, but not much and the discoloration had gotten darker. But I was still flying so I felt only mild discomfort as she pulled out a roll of self-adhesive elastic wrap, the same kind I had used when I twisted my ankle one year during soccer practice.

"Sorry, but I don't have anything fancy. But this should do the trick." She pulled out two tongue depressors, wrapping each finger, the length of the stick covering my palm which she eventually wrapped too.

After the broken fingers I could no longer help with the candles, but Dale knew he could not leave me alone either, forcing him to work the rest of the week from home. He was not happy about the choice; Bethany had received a brutal punishment in which I had been forced to witness. I was ecstatic when I heard Sam would be returning, I was beyond ready to leave Dale's. If you had not tried to run, you would not have to be staying there in the first place. Dale let me wait on the front porch the day of his arrival. I managed to resist the urge to throw myself into his arms the way Zeke had when he first dropped me off.

"I am happy you are home, husband." And I meant it.

"It was a very long week but very worth it..." His voice drifted off as his gaze lowered towards my hand.

"What happened!?" Hiding it seemed pointless, yet I moved it from sight like a guilty secret.

"A-an accident."

"From what?" he demanded through clenched teeth, eyes already darkening.

"Emily says they should heal in about 6 weeks, as long as I don't do anything too strenuous."

"Don't skirt the question, which one of the little bastards did this?"

"I told you, it was an accident." But the deadly look in his eyes told me he was not accepting that as my answer.

"I don't want any trouble; it was dealt with. I don't...I don't want you to do anything about it. Please." He took a step closer, grabbing my left wrist and holding my hand up between us, fingers bound in red adhesive wrap. Pulling away did no good, my hand began to throb with the grip he had on my wrist.

"I'll be the one to judge if it's worth the trouble. Now. Tell. Me. What. Happened."

"Go on, best he hears it from you." Dale insisted as he appeared in the doorway. He held the lock, chain, and key out to Sam...or maybe it was Arioch? I was not sure yet.

"Noah smashed them with a hammer."

"That falls nowhere near the definition of an accident." He looked to his Uncle, releasing my hand.

"Where the hell were you!? The only reason I agreed to help you was because you swore, she would be safe here." Agreed, he made it sound like he had a choice in the matter.

"Well, I won't make excuses. I left her in Bethany's care, who has been thoroughly punished as your wife can attest to. A mistake I will not make again."

"And Noah? What punishment did he receive."

"I smashed his fingers with a hammer." Dale spoke matter-of-factly, but I knew he had not been happy about it. Breaking Noah's fingers meant it would affect his ability to do chores. I had been forced to witness that too; he had sworn and growled, but he glared at me the entire time. I cannot say I wasn't pleased to see him punished. Sam did not speak, but the way he scowled said what his words did not. It was not enough for him.

"I suppose that will have to do. Let us go home, KitKat." He waited until we were back in the truck before wrapping the chain around my neck and locking it in place then secured me to the dashboard and drove off. We did not get very far before he suddenly swerved to the side of the road and hit the brakes, nearly sending me into the dashboard. My heart skipped a few beats when he jumped out and walked his way around the front of the truck towards my door. He opened it, pulling me down, leaving my hands secured so that my top half was twisted towards the engine. He grabbed my face between his hands so that I was forced to look into his midnight blue eyes.

"Wh-what are you doing?"

"Taking what's mine, it's been far too long, darlin'." He leaned forward, body pressing mine into the seat before kissing me hungrily. As his lips traveled towards the nape of my neck his hands were already bunching up my dress. He kicked my legs apart as he shoved one hand between them. He growled in appreciation at what he found and began undoing his belt.

"I'm glad to see you missed me too." I opened my mouth to object, and he placed a finger against my lips, smearing the wetness across them. He kissed me again, and I could taste myself lingering on his lips.

"Don't. Denial is just lying's ugly cousin and you know how I feel about liars." He shoved his jeans down, his erection springing to life despite the slightly cool breeze. My underwear was off and on the ground within seconds as he shoved me back onto the seat; lifting my legs, he moved quickly to shove his entire length into me. I hated when he took charge, but not nearly as much as I secretly loved it, and I hated that I loved it. Everything began happening so fast, giving me little time to overthink and I found I did not mind. It was a relief to not have to make any decisions, any choices. I did not have to fight or resist, I had no choice but to give in.

"What if someone drives by?" But he did not miss a beat, he smiled before leaning closer to gently bite my earlobe.

"Then they get a free show." He pushed my dress up even further, causing my nipples to harden at the exposure. He captured one of my breasts in his mouth, the contrast of the cold breeze against the heat of his mouth drew a moan. Small currents of electricity shot straight to my groin as he began a slow, tortuous pace. My legs quivered, the pressure building, and I longed for my hands to be free, I wanted to touch him, I wanted to pull him closer, I wanted...more.

I felt ravenous and found myself rolling my hips in desperation for a faster pace. He chuckled as he grabbed the bunched-up dress and held it down across my throat, not quite cutting off the oxygen but hard enough to send my heart racing. Heat coursed through my veins, my breathing ragged, every thrust of his hips drawing me closer.

"This is my pussy, we go at my pace." he growled. I held my legs up higher, one resting on the ceiling of the cab, the other on the edge of the open door allowing him deeper. He kept me on edge, dragging his tip against my sweet spot. A rapacious whine broke free as my hips began moving once again with a mind of their own. A sharp slap brought my focus back to him.

"Whose pussy is this?" he demanded.

"Y-y-yours."

"I want to hear you say it."

"It's your pussy." I replied.

"That is right, mine. Stop trying to rush me you greedy little slut." As eager as I was for the finish line, I also didn't want the moment to end. In this moment I felt wanted, desired, even a little bit loved. He returned his attention back to my breasts, forcing my eyes to nearly roll into the back of my head as he devoured them like a dying man at his last supper, driving me mad.

"Fuck me, please." I heard the words as they left my lips but could hardly believe they came from me. I felt him smile into my flesh and he held the dress down harder, restricting my blood flow further, leaving me lightheaded. At the same time, he bit down, teeth sinking in, a sharp pain shooting through my chest while he pounded into me with an animalistic frenzy, a reward for my plea. The combined sensations swirled through me, finally sending me over that edge. My screams and moans echoed off the trees in the woods behind him as an earth-shattering orgasm swept through me. I could hear his grunts, the slapping of our naked flesh before he finally came too, filling me up with his hot cum, burying his face in my chest as my legs went limp around him.

When he finally looked up, he was still smiling, bringing a softness to his face.

"I missed you too, sweetheart." He gave my left nipple a quick twist before pulling away. I practically slid out of the seat without him holding me up, my legs too heavy to do much besides weigh me down. I could feel his cum smearing between my thighs but since there was little I could do to clean up, I ignored it. He chuckled at the sight of me dangling from his dashboard and after he pulled his jeans up, helped me back into the truck, running a quick hand through my messy sex hair. Within a few minutes we were back on the road, heading home. I felt warmth radiating from my center and I leaned back in my seat, allowing myself to enjoy the sensation.

."Now that that business is finished...you have a real problem with telling me the truth."

"I didn't lie..." I started to object with a scowl. He was ruining my post coital bliss.

"It was not an accident, you danced around a direct answer and you know it. You know how much I hate that."

"He was trying to make me tell him where his brothers are. What exactly did you think was going to happen when you told him you were going to bury him with his brothers if he touched me again?" Had he thought the fear would be enough? Even now I was certain Noah was not going to rest until he got the answers he sought or ended up dead too.

"I want to know exactly what happened; don't you dare leave a single thing out." So I told him everything, my argument with Bethany, waking up in the bunker, the instruments he had laid out, the wall of guns, Zeke saving me, Emily fixing me and the punishments I had been forced to watch. I told him how Dale had not left me out of his sight since, I had become his personal shadow. By the time I finished we finally pulled into the driveway,

"You can't leave me there again." I announced.

"I don't trust you enough to leave you home."

"Have your mother watch me, lock me in the basement, anything else. I fear the next time I won't be so lucky...unless you wish me to die."

"If that were my wish, I would just kill you myself. I told you, you are far more valuable to me alive."

"I just ask that you consider another option."