Chapter 2

Laynie

You know when your asleep but not really? I once took a psychology class in college. I learned a couple of important facts in that class. One, I am not meant to be a psychologist, at all. Second, slow wave sleep is stage three and four of the five stages of sleep. It is in this stage that you find yourself asleep, but when and if your jolted awake by something, you are unsure of your surroundings. You are not sure where you are for a moment, you have no idea how long you were out, and it takes you a second to remember what woke you up. I was definitely in the slow wave stage.

A hand suddenly grabs my mouth as I shoot out of bed. Still not having any idea what woke me up I struggle with the hand tightening on my mouth. Thrashing in bed I managed to look to my left and notice Jared is being detained by two men. What the hell is going on? He looks a little sluggish trying to fight these men off and it dawns on me that he is still drunk. Looking back at the man responsible for my inability to speak, I try and get a good look at him. He is very young looking. Younger than my 27 years. He has sluggish brown hair that looks like he has brushed through it with his fingers. He has big brown eyes, and is long and lean. He lifts me up on my feet by my arm, and drags me to the living room. I am followed by Jared being pulled by the two men who look equally as young as the other guy.

I am thrown on the sofa forcefully, while the man holding me walks over to my husband, who is now being held up by the two men. I've seen enough action movies to know that stance they have put him in. One man was on his left, the other on his right, both holding his arms up. This main guy was going to hurt him while the other two hold him in place. The man that was holding me, slowly walks over to them and lifts Jared's face up by his hair. These men aren't wearing masks. They have nothing hiding their distinctive features from us. That scares me more than the grasp he had on my mouth just moments ago.

"Remember me chump?" The man says.

"Remember what you put me through? What you put us all through?" He sneers.

Jared looks up, and narrowed his eyes on the man that was speaking. He seems to be the one in charge. Jared spits towards the man and then tries kicking and pulling at the two holding him. It is no use. He is still too weak from his drunken slumber. He grunts at his failed attempt. I keep my hands in fists, scared that if I opened them up, I would try something stupid. They were clearly here for Jared. This is personal.

"Think you can just do whatever you want to whoever you want, just because your pissed, you piece of shit?" The main guy howls.

With that, he lifts his fist and slams it into Jared's face. I scream watching blood spat all over our walls. What the hell is going on? If they wanted money or jewels, surely they would have just asked where they were with a gun to our heads, while they wore ski masks. Okay, maybe I do watch too many action movies. When my screams reach their ears, the main guy turns to me and stalks over to where I'm still sitting on the sofa. He sees a lamp on the end table and turns it on. With the bright light illuminating the room I can see their faces better. I can also see Jared's bloody face already starting to swell.

The main guy crouches down in front of me, a little smug smirk grows on his thin lips. He looks to the guys holding Jared, back to me, then to my wedding bands. I never go to sleep without them. Even when my marriage is practically over.

"So, you're the Mrs." He whispers.

It wasn't a question.

"Here I thought you were some whore this shmuck was fucking" His crass tongue has me holding mine. I do not want to be brass with this group. I have to figure a way out of this. What did I do with my phone? Main guy turns back to the two men but his words are still directed at me.

"Sorry Darlin' this ain't personal."

Before I can even finish a thought, his fist is connecting to my already bruised face. I fall right to the ground. My nose feels like it is instantly broken. I can hear Jared shouting but I can't understand what he is saying. My vision blurs and pain radiates through my head. Lifting my head off the ground, I listen as the main guy standing over me and says something that floors me.

"Looks like I'm not the only one to do that to you tonight darlin."

I cringe at his words. My cheeks heat at his accusation. No one has ever seen the marks of Jared's abuse. Adrenaline must have made me forget that my face probably already looks like a bruised grapefruit. I look at Jared with an almost pleading look. He has a coldness in his eyes that I can't decipher. I briefly wonder if he is enraged by someone else battering his punching bag.

I look at the man in charge and see his smirk turn towards my husband.

"See that old man? See what I can do to someone you love?" You fucked with my life.... I fuck with yours."

With that, his goons slam him onto the ground and start beating him. It feels like it goes on for days with me pleading and begging for them to stop. All I see is my husband being pummeled, fist landing on his face and torso, blood spatting everywhere from his nose. It feels like it lasts forever. When they eventually tire using their fists, they start using their feet. Steel toe boots hitting flesh is a sound I will forever hear in my nightmares. Blood is dripping down from every inch of my husband's face and it's then I realize he has stopped covering his body for protection. He must have passed out. What if this is the last time I see my husband alive? What if this is the last time I will be alive? They will never let me go knowing I can pick them out of a line up.

My screams echo off the walls making me regret that Jared bought the house on top of an acre. We are in upstate New York, where it's more land than neighbors. Jared wanted privacy. Little did I know he just didn't want my screams to be heard for a different reason. When the two finally let up I stop screaming and lie there, still on my stomach with my hands holding me half up. The man in charge smiles like the Cheshire Cat and starts laughing.

"Damn boys, you were great!" he chuckles to himself.

His smile vanishes when he turns around locks eyes with me. Giving me a stern look he turns back to the two men.

"Let's finish this. I got shit to do"

Guy on the right slams his steel toe right on top of Jared's head. I'm almost certain Jared will never get up again. My throat aches with the scream I just let out. The man in charge looks back at me with an almost solemn look.

"Sorry about the visual darlin" he says with a grimace.

I'm getting really sick of him calling me that.

"But the man needed to pay." He continues. "Now we just got to make sure you won't say nothing."

With that his fist connects with my head. I pray for something to take me out of my misery. Between the earlier onslaught with Jared and now with this criminal, I don't know how much more pain I can take. Even with Jared using me as a punching bag for the last 12 months, this man's fist is much more painful. I glance at the window feeling the darkness that I crave bordering on the edges of my vision, and notice a smear of light coming from the sky. It's morning. I briefly wonder what time it is when there is a loud ruckus at the front door. The men scatter and are yelling at one another. I hear the door being slammed open by something powerful and even more shouting. I briefly see high heels running in with lots of black boots around. When the high heels stop at me and crouch down my vision blurs and I feel myself blacking out soon. The last words I can get out are "Save Jared" but I'm not sure if they were ever heard by anyone other than in my own head. The familiar darkness finds me.