Across State Lines Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  Chapter 73

  Chapter 74

  Chapter 75

  Chapter 76

  Chapter 77

  Chapter 78

  Chapter 79

  Chapter 80

  Chapter 81

  Chapter 82

  Chapter 83

  Chapter 84

  Chapter 85

  Chapter 86

  Chapter 87

  Chapter 88

  Chapter 89

  Chapter 90

  Chapter 91

  Chapter 92

  Chapter 93

  Chapter 94

  Chapter 95

  Chapter 96

  Chapter 97

  Chapter 98

  Chapter 99

  Chapter 100

  Chapter 101

  Chapter 102

  Chapter 103

  Chapter 104

  Chapter 105

  Chapter 106

  Chapter 107

  Chapter 108

  Chapter 109

  Chapter 110

  Chapter 111

  Chapter 112

  Chapter 113

  Chapter 114

  Chapter 115

  Chapter 116

  Chapter 117

  Chapter 118

  Chapter 119

  Chapter 120

  Acknowledgements

  Across State Lines

  A City of Fountains Novel

  C. J. Johnson

  ACROSS STATE LINES © 2020 by C. J. Johnson

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without the permission of the author.

  Cover design & interior formatting by Sweet ‘N Spicy Designs

  Dedication:

  To all those who have lived through nightmares and those who helped get them through.

  Chapter 1

  The sound of tires rolling across the pavement echoed in Heather’s ears. She twisted her body but couldn’t loosen the duct tape that bound her hands and feet. She took slow, deep breaths trying not to panic as the trunk walls closed in around her. Sweat ran down her face, stinging as it hit her swollen eyes.

  The car began to slow down. Heather thought her heart would beat through her chest. She listened to the muffled voices, straining to make out what they were saying. When the car finally came to a stop, the doors creaked open, then slammed shut. Heather waited.

  To herself, she thought, “Maybe they’ll let me out now.”

  The trunk lid didn’t open.

  Tears created a wet trail down her pale cheeks. Heather’s mind was racing. When would they let her out of the trunk? What would they do to her when they did? To distract herself from the questions, Heather began to hum a song her mother sang to her when she was frightened. And she was frightened now. Heather hummed the verse of the song three times before she heard the doors to the car open again. The car shuddered as the engine turned over and roared to a start. The muffled voices and laughter from the backseat echoed into the dark trunk.

  Heather felt the seatback move against her head, then the center console lower as the car began to move backward. A rush of cool air forced its way into the hot, cramped trunk. Heather gulped the fresh air, fighting the urge to scream.

  “Drink this.”

  A dark hand thrust a Styrofoam cup through the opening in the back seat. Heather saw a straw sticking out of the cup, but hesitated, fearing what the cup might contain. Tentatively she sipped the amber liquid, sighing with relief at the familiar taste of cola. Abruptly the cup was moved from her mouth, causing the liquid to dribble down her chin.

  Heather began to plead when the console started to close, “Please! Leave it open. It’s so hot back here.”

  Heather heard the men muttering in the backseat, something about hell being hotter, but they left the console down.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  Heather lay there, listening to the sounds of the radio, waiting for an answer to her question. She twisted her hands to loosen the tape, but her efforts were futile. If anything, the binds felt like they had tightened.

  “Let me out of here. Why are you doing this? Where are we going? Just let me go.” Heather continued to ask questions, barely stopping her monologue long enough to take a breath.

  Tired of the constant barrage of questions, the man shut the armrest once more. Heather cried quietly and tried to focus on her breathing in the cramped space. After what seemed like hours, Heather felt the car begin to slow again. When it came to a stop, the radio went silent, and the chatter within the car came to a lull. Once again, she heard the car doors creak open. Heather could hear footsteps on the pavement. The thumping sound stopped at the back of her car. When the latch holding the trunk closed was released and the lid popped open, Heather wriggled her body and tried to sit up.

  Corey pushed her back into the trunk and said, “Bitch, I didn’t say you could sit up.”

  “Please let me out of here. I won’t tell anyone if you just let me go.”

  From the trunk, Heather strained to see where they had stopped. The road was lined with trees, but in the distance, she could see decrepit mobile homes with grassless yards made of dirt. An ominous clanking sound was the only background noise.

  Corey looked at her and laughed a deep, sinister laugh. “You aren’t going anywhere.”

  He grabbed a pillowcase from the trunk and jerked her body into a full seated position. He started to put the pillowcase over Heather’s head.

  “Please don’t! I promise I’ll be quiet! Please don’t cover my head. I won’t be able to breathe!”

  Corey ignored Heather’s pleas and
put the pillowcase over her head and grabbed the duct tape. Her protests became louder, and her voice shriller until he finally removed the pillowcase.

  Corey grabbed a handgun from his waistband and rubbed it lightly against Heather’s cheekbone and growled, “I should end this right now.”

  “Please…don’t…just let me go. I promise…”

  “You promise what, bitch?” Letting the side of the gun rest against her face, he said, “I could dump your body into the Missouri River, and no one would ever find you. Hell, I bet no one would even miss you.”

  “I’m sorry. Please don’t kill me. I’ll do whatever you want. Please just let me go!”

  Corey ripped a long piece of duct tape from the roll and wrapped it across Heather’s mouth and around her head. He hesitated and then hit the side of her face with the edge of the weapon. Heather’s screams were muffled by the tape. Corey shoved her back into the trunk, dropping the roll of tape next to her body.

  Heather twisted her body and moved her head from side to side, trying to get the tape off her mouth. But the more she twisted, the more the tape pulled against her hair. She finally stopped moving and lay quietly, wondering why someone she thought was her friend would do this to her.

  Chapter 2

  Heather didn’t know how long they drove before the car once again came to a stop. Her eyes were sore from crying, and her chest hurt from the strain of trying to breathe inside the cramped space.

  The car doors opened, and Heather could hear the muffled sounds of someone talking, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying. Sweat trickled from her damp hair down her face and into her red eyes. Heather blinked, trying to clear her vision. Blood oozed from the wound on her cheek and mixed with the salt of her tears. Heather’s heart pounded and her body ached from being cramped inside the trunk. The fear of her fate echoed in her mind.

  Corey knocked on the back door of a small blockhouse. The doorway filled with a dark, imposing figure.

  “Hey Big Bruce.”

  “What do you want?”

  “We need to stash a girl here while we use her car. Can we put her in your basement?”

  Bruce looked through the doorway to the car. Not seeing anyone inside, he said, “Boy, quit messin’ with me.”

  Bruce turned his back to Corey and let the door slam closed behind him.

  Corey returned to the car and unlocked the trunk. The lid popped open, causing Heather to jump in surprise. Corey stood over her body with William and a man she only knew as Tubby.

  Corey grabbed her by the shoulders, looked at Tubby, and said, “Get her feet.”

  The pair carried Heather to the back door of the little house. She twisted her head and tried to catch a glimpse of the rundown neighborhood as William opened the back door to the residence. He stepped aside to give Corey and Tubby room to carry Heather into the kitchen.

  Corey was moving towards the basement stairs when a man’s voice boomed, “What the hell’s going on in here?”

  “Big Bruce, I told you we needed a place to hold this girl.”

  “What’s wrong with you, boy. Don’t take her down there,” Bruce barked. “Go sit her on the couch.”

  Corey and Tubby carried Heather into the sparsely furnished living room and dropped her onto the couch. Heather suddenly wished the tape was off her mouth, so she did not have to breathe through her nose. The smell of rotting food and days-old garbage made her gag with each breath. Heather surveyed the room, and a motion out of the corner of her eye caused her to turn just as cockroaches scurried up the wall.

  Big Bruce followed the men into the living room. He stood in front of her and looked down, towering over Heather, with question in his eyes. She jerked her head backward in fear as he reached down with his bear-like hand and grabbed the tape’s edge, then ripped it from her mouth. Heather gulped the air hungrily and then began to cough. She opened her mouth to speak, but the look in Corey’s eyes caused her to stop.

  Bruce walked into the kitchen, with William close behind. Tubby retrieved a brown vial from his pants pocket and poured a fine white powder onto a mirror lying on the coffee table. Using a razor, he divided the powder into lines. Tubby made a straw out of a twenty-dollar bill, placed it near the powder and inhaled. Corey took the makeshift straw and snorted the rest. Heather looked on in silence.

  Snapping his head to the side, Corey said, “Damn, that’s good stuff. You aren’t cooking with that shit, are you?”

  “Naw, man, this is my personal stash.”

  Corey nodded then stood up to leave the room. Tubby’s eyes bore through Heather. With her hands and feet still bound, she scooted her body as far back against the couch as she could get. Sensing her fear, Tubby stood up and started to move towards her, a smirk forming on his mouth.

  “Corey and William got theirs, now it’s time for me to get mines.”

  Softly Heather asked, “What about Audrey? Won’t she be mad?”

  “Bitch don’t own me. I do what I want. I’m my own man.” Heather cowered as Tubby made his way to stand in front of her. He exposed himself, grabbed her hair, and said, “Suck it bitch.”

  She clenched her lips tightly.

  Tubby twisted her hair and jerked, “Maybe you didn’t hear what I said. I said, suck it.”

  Tears trickled down Heather’s red cheeks as she complied with Tubby’s orders. When he was finished, he shoved her back onto the couch, zipped his pants, and left the room.

  Chapter 3

  Big Bruce led the men back into the living room and asked, “How long you gonna be gone?”

  “A few hours. I got some business to handle,” Corey answered.

  “Why can’t you take her with you?”

  Corey looked at Heather, “I need the space in the trunk. Besides, she ain’t goin’ nowhere. ‘Cept maybe the morgue. She won’t be no problem for you.”

  Heather flinched as Tubby ran the side of his hand across her jaw and said, “I’m sure she’ll take care of whatever needs you have. Won’t you?”

  Bruce hesitated before saying, “Leave her.”

  “Give me your phone number.”

  Bruce looked from Heather to Corey, “741-1925.”

  “Okay. We’ll call you. Don’t let her out of your sight.”

  Bruce waited until the men left to ask Heather her name.

  “Heather. Heather Whitaker.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “South Kansas City. Grandview, actually.”

  “How’d you get mixed up with them boys?”

  “Tubby’s girlfriend, Audrey. She’s my roommate at the women’s shelter.” Heather paused before quietly adding, “I thought Audrey was my friend.”

  Bruce gently placed his hand on Heather’s knee. She instinctively jerked her knee away in fear. Realizing what she must have thought, Bruce lifted his hand and said, “I’m not going to do anything to you. You gotta be about my baby girl’s age.”

  Heather didn’t respond. Her stomach began to rumble.

  “Are you hungry?”

  She nodded.

  “You like chicken nuggets?”

  Heather nodded.

  “Alright. I’ll go fix you some.” Bruce clicked the power onto the television and went into the kitchen.

  Heather could hear him talking to someone, but the television masked what he said. She moved her body, trying to ease the pain in her wrists and shoulders. When Bruce finally returned with a plate of food, she softly asked, “Can you please undo my hands? I promise not to do anything.”

  Tears returned to Heather’s eyes and her stomach sank with defeat when Bruce turned and left the room. She sat and stared at the food, silently wondering if he expected her to eat like a dog with her hands bound behind her back.

  A few moments later, Bruce returned with a knife in his hand. Heather shrank into the sofa, jumping when a bug crawled across her leg.

  “Can you stand up?”

  She looked up with hesitation, then nodded her head slightly. She scoot
ed towards the edge of the sofa, put her bound feet on the floor, and used her hands to push herself up. Bruce pulled her hands away from her body and sliced the tape.

  “Oh my gosh, thank you!” Heather rubbed her shoulder and rolled her neck. “My arms were starting to go numb. Can I cut the tape on my feet too?”

  Bruce paused, unsure if giving this woman a knife was a good idea.

  Sensing his reluctance, Heather said, “I promise I won’t do anything. I just want to undo the tape.”

  Bruce said, “Sit down.”

  Just as Heather thought he was going to leave her feet bound together, Bruce knelt and cut the tape.

  Once the tape was removed, Heather hungrily ate the chicken pieces that had been laid before her. When she was almost finished, she asked, “Can I please have something to drink?”

  Bruce went to the kitchen and returned with a glass of water. Sitting it on the table, he asked, “Where do you live?”

  Heather took a long drink of water then said, “I’ve been staying at the women’s shelter by the highway. I’ve only been there for a few weeks. I couldn’t stay in my apartment anymore.”

  “Why not?”

  “Bobby-that’s my ex-boyfriend-he tried to kill me a few weeks ago, so the cops thought I’d be safer in a shelter. My caseworker said they’d help me transition into my own place again, but I need to find a job first. Do you know of anywhere I could work? I’m reliable. I have a car. Shoot, they’re going to bring me my car back, right? I mean, I have to have the car. It’s not even my car. It’s my grandma’s. She’s going to be so mad if I don’t get it back. Do you think they’ll bring it back?”

  Bruce tried to keep up with all of Heather’s ramblings without answering her. He had no idea what these boys were capable of.

  Chapter 4

  When Heather finally stopped to take a breath, Big Bruce said, “I thought they would be back with your car by now. Let me see if I can get them on the phone.”

  Bruce picked up the phone then realized Corey never gave him a number. And they hadn’t called him. Bruce knew he was going to have to do something. The sunlight coming through the window was starting to fade when he looked at Heather and said, “I can’t keep you here. My lady friend will be coming by tonight. If she sees you here, there’ll be a heap of trouble.”