Chapter 44: Chapter 43. I Looked Like a Beat-Up Rag Doll

BLAKE

Claire’s mom gave me a puzzled look, her eyebrows knitting together. I was at a loss for how to say what needed to be said.

Mrs. Walker, hands firmly on the wheel, glanced back at me. Her face was a mask of confusion. After a moment, she returned her attention to the road and spoke. “Please, call me Isabelle. Now, what is it you want to tell me?”

I hesitated, then sighed and turned my gaze to the side. Covering my mouth with my hand, I mumbled, “Claire’s a boxer.”

Isabelle’s head whipped around for a split second. She looked like she was on the verge of laughter.

“Pardon?” she asked, sounding utterly baffled.

I exhaled heavily and turned back to face Claire’s mother. “Claire’s. A. Boxer.” I enunciated each word slowly and clearly, hoping she’d understand. I didn’t realize then that this was a huge mistake.

Isabelle slammed on the brakes, causing me to lurch forward and smack my head on the windshield. “Agh,” I groaned, grimacing in pain as I rubbed the spot where I’d hit my head.

Isabelle stared at me, her eyes wide. Her mouth hung open and her fingers were white-knuckled on the steering wheel.

“You’re lying! My daughter isn’t a boxer! She’s always been fascinated by the idea, but she would never. Not—not without telling me. I know it. My Claire would never put herself in danger like that.”

Isabelle was now muttering to herself, desperately trying to convince herself that her daughter wouldn’t do such a thing. I felt a pang of guilt knowing it was all true.

“Mrs. Wa—Isabelle,” I corrected myself.

“Claire is in danger, and I think I know who took her and where she is, but I need to tell you some things first.

“I’d rather we keep driving while I talk, but I don’t want you to go into shock and cause an accident. It wouldn’t help Claire if you ended up in the hospital,” I tried to explain as clearly as I could.

She took a few deep breaths, calming herself, and then nodded. “You’re right. I’ll just park here for now. You can talk. I’ll ask questions at the end,” Isabelle said, her voice tight as she pulled off to the side of the road.

I sighed. I really didn’t want to be the one to do this. But I knew now that she wouldn’t let me off the hook so easily.

“Claire started boxing in actual matches two years ago,” I paused, thinking back to all the times she had explained to me why she had started boxing in the first place.

I decided not to share her reasons with her mother. That wasn’t my story to tell.

“Claire soon met a woman who became her best friend and manager. Her name is Nancy, and right now she’s also frantic with worry about Claire,” I chuckled.

I could picture Nancy, frantically trying to find information on Claire’s whereabouts, leaving a trail of destruction in her wake.

“One night, though, she had to face a different opponent. Claire—she was undefeated. Her boxing name was White Wolf. Everyone had heard of her, and everyone had seen at least one of her fights.

“That means even gangs have seen her. You know about the deadliest gang here, Deadly Snakes, right?” I asked, then continued when she nodded, a fearful look on her face.

“The leader of the gang, Logan, was the man she fought. Of course, she won. Claire has never lost a match.

“But Logan didn’t take kindly to being beaten by a sixteen-year-old girl, so he vowed revenge,” I said, my voice shaky.

I heard Isabelle’s sharp intake of breath before her lip started to tremble. “So, he wants to k-kill her?” Isabelle stuttered.

Her hands flew to her mouth. “I-I can’t lose her. I already lost my husband. Claire is all I have left,” she sobbed.

I nodded, understanding that Claire was all her mother had left. Her husband had left her for another woman, and it didn’t seem like Isabelle had many friends. The only thing she had left to love was her daughter: Claire.

“We’ll get her back. I promise, we’ll get your daughter back,” I vowed, not just to her, but to myself as well.

I’d worked hard to finally get Claire to see that I really liked her and wanted to give us a chance. I’d be damned if I’d let her past take her away from me.

I could still hear Claire’s mom sniffling before she spoke. “So, how long have you two been dating? She never did tell me much about her friends.” Isabelle asked, her face streaked with tears.

A sad smile crossed my face as I thought of a response.

“We’ve been dating for about three to four months now. She doesn’t really have many friends. Claire likes to keep to herself at school and just focuses on studying and doing her homework.

“She’s incredibly smart, too. You should see her grades,” I laughed, though nothing was really funny.

“She always was a quick learner,” she chuckled. “So, who exactly is my daughter’s boyfriend?” Isabelle asked, raising an eyebrow.

My eyes widened as I realized I’d never introduced myself. “Right. Sorry, I forgot,” I mumbled. “My name’s Blake Johnson. I’m your next-door neighbor—”

Isabelle cut me off. “Good. That means I can literally walk over and carry out my threats if you hurt my daughter,” she said casually, wiping away her tears. I nodded.

“When did you find out she was a boxer?” she asked after a moment of silence.

I exhaled heavily. “I don’t really remember. I just know it was a little before I asked her out,” I lied. Another thing she could live without knowing.

She just nodded again. “I just hope we find her soon. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost her.” Isabelle’s voice was faint and sad. A small thought crossed my mind as well, I didn’t think I knew either.

CLAIRE

This was my second day here. Jason had told me so. He brought me scrambled eggs this morning.

Since my hands were tied, he had to feed me, one small bite at a time. I couldn’t finish it. My stomach was too upset to hold anything down.

Logan had returned last night, his taunts echoing in my ears. He didn’t hit me again, I’d already had my share of that earlier.

My lip was split, my right eye surrounded by dark bruises, and my cheeks were swollen and marred with cuts.

My stomach was a canvas of yellow and purple bruises. I looked like a battered doll, straight from a nightmare.

I had no idea what time it was, but I knew today would be worse than yesterday. My body was already aching, and I didn’t know how much more I could endure before I shattered.

My body sagged in the chair, my wrists raw and bleeding from my futile attempts to free myself.

I took slow, shallow breaths, each one a struggle. Every movement, every word, every breath was a battle. My lungs felt like they were on the verge of bursting with each wheeze.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and the sound of footsteps filled the room. I closed my eyes and bit my split lip.

I didn’t dare look up. I was too terrified to see the faces of the monsters who would haunt my nightmares, if I ever escaped this place.

“You’re looking well this evening,” Logan sneered, sauntering over to me. He yanked my hair, and a gasp of pain escaped my lips.

My breaths came in shudders, my eyelids fluttering as I fought to stay conscious.

“Hey, she’s in enough pain as it is,” Jason’s familiar voice cut through the tension. He was glaring at Logan, but Logan didn’t care.

Logan just shrugged and pulled harder, causing me to bite my lip until it bled. He chuckled, releasing my hair and watching as I instinctively bowed my head.

“Grab the whips,” Logan’s voice was laced with a sickening glee. He was a madman, teetering on the edge of self-destruction.

“I think today will be quite interesting for our tough little Clare,” Logan laughed, his voice echoing ominously.

I lifted my head slightly, meeting Jason’s eyes filled with regret. ~I’m sorry,~ he mouthed. I managed a weak smile before my head dropped again.

I tensed as my shirt was ripped from my back, leaving me in my purple sports bra.

A soft, strangled scream tore from my lips as the black leather whip bit into my skin.

Tears welled in my eyes, and I clenched my fists, ignoring the sting of my nails digging into my skin.

Laughter filled the room as the others joined in, each lash searing into my skin like acid.

I had no idea how long it lasted. I could feel the blood trickling down my back, each whip leaving a trail of fire.

The pain was unbearable, the worst I’d ever experienced. I’d lied when I told Logan I’d felt worse. That was just my cocky side talking.

And in that moment, I wondered who was looking for me. Nancy, definitely. My mother, probably. Ashley, doubtfully. Blake, most likely, but I hoped not.

He’d get himself killed if he found out where I was. The thought was flattering, but I couldn’t bear to lose Blake.

He was the only one who truly liked me for me. I had Nancy and Molly, but Blake was different. I knew deep down, I loved Blake.

I just refused to admit it to myself. I still do. But I don’t know how long I can keep up this charade. If I survive this, I’ll throw myself into Blake’s arms.

That’s what I’ll do. I’ll kiss Blake senseless if I ever escape this hell and tell him I’ll give up boxing to be with him.

That is, if Blake feels the same. If he doesn’t, I don’t know what I’ll do. He makes me happy. He makes me feel beautiful.

“...Logan...had...stop.”

“...Alright. Pass out...”

“STOP!”

Those were the only voices I could hear as I drifted in and out of consciousness. My mind was filled with thoughts of Blake, my parents, Nancy, Molly.

Fear gripped me as I realized my body was numb with pain. I couldn’t feel anything but a whirlwind of emotions.

The most prominent one was fear. Fear of leaving my mom, Nancy, Molly... Blake. Fear that this might be the end. It could be. That’s it.

My chest tightened with pain, and I forced myself to think one last thought before surrendering to the encroaching darkness.

~I love you, Blake~. ~