Searching for Anna by Jenifer Carll-Tong (best classic books of all time .txt) 📕

Cold. Hard and cold. It's strange the things that you think when first waking. Phoebe didn't know where she was or why, but she knew it was hard and cold. The mist clogging her mind began to fade and she noticed other details. The musky scent of sweat and unwashed bodies. Hushed whispering and the crackling of a fire. The taste of dirt. The drums pounding in her temples.

Gingerly, she lifted her head and wiped the dirt from her face and mouth. From her vantage point, she could see the floor was covered in filth, much like the rest of the cabin. She looked at her two captors, hunched over the table discussing something spread in front of them. As engrossed as they were, they took no notice of Phoebe's consciousness or her movements.

She had no plan but realized this may be her only opportunity. Slowly and quietly, she stood. Inching her way away from the men, she kept her eyes on Gregory and Rogers. Only a few more feet, and she would be at the door.

"Were you going somewhere, miss?" came a voice from the shadows.

Startled, Phoebe ran toward the door only to find her arm gripped in man-sized talons. She shrieked as she found herself once again a captive, this time by a man nearly twice the size of the other two.

"Miss Albright, meet Mr. Karch," Gregory said without lifting his eyes from the papers on the table.

Mr. Karch smiled down at her through crooked teeth lost in a dirty, unkept beard. She now knew where the smell in the room was emanating from.

"Mr. Karch, it appears our guest needs another taste of what she can expect if she tries to escape again. My fist must not have done the trick."

The horror of his words seeped into the very depths of her stomach. Surely this man could cause more harm than Parker, and Phoebe was still feeling the effects of his punch.

"But she's a priest."

Parker turned to look at the brute. His confusion turned to mirth.

"Close," he chuckled, "but not quite."

"Don't matter. I ain't hittin' a woman of the cloth."

"You superstitious fool. I swear you're more afraid of the leaders of the church than you are of God himself."

Karch didn't respond, but he didn't make any attempts to injure Phoebe either.

Maybe he is my path to safety, she thought. "Please," she whispered. "Please help me get away from here."

"Now, why would I do that?"

"Parker is going to harm me, or worse. Surely you can see that."

"Sure, I can."

"But you won't help me?"

"Just 'cause I won't touch ya, doesn't mean I care one bit what he does wit' ya. He'll answer to God for that, not me."

"But you'll answer to God for letting it happen," she pleaded in desperation.

The man muttered something about Mary and Grace. Phoebe realized it was useless; this man wasn't concerned about her at all. She turned back to her original captors.

"This time will be more dangerous, what with you draggin' around dead weight," Rogers said with a jerk of his head in her direction.

Parker's eyes met with Phoebe's. He smiled, a slow, casual smile. How had she ever thought he was handsome? She shivered under his stare.

"That weight's not dead…yet."

Her stomach lurched. He couldn't be serious. He stood, feet apart and arms crossed, his lean body and expression completely relaxed. He acted as if he were discussing the weather, not holding her hostage, and discussing killing her. Over what?

Liquor? Shipments?

Bits of conversations from the car ride and fragments she must have heard while on the floor were beginning to come back to her slowly.

"You gotta take care of her, and now. We gotta get on the road."

Fury furrowed Parker's brow as he looked at Rogers.

"You don't tell me what to do. I'll take care of her when I'm good and ready."

"You can't be thinkin' of takin' her with us?"

Parker appeared to ponder that. His gaze slid down her body, and back up to meet hers.

"I'm not done with her yet," he answered, a slow smirk spreading across his face. "And as you pointed out, we are in a hurry right now. But I plan on taking my time with that one."

Phoebe fought back the tears she felt burning behind her eyes. She would not let him see her cry. Why hadn't she listened to Will's warnings about this man?

Will. She choked back a sob. How could she have been so foolish? If she hadn't been so prideful, if she had only seen what God had placed in front of her all this time, she would be celebrating her engagement right now. Instead, she was here with three dangerous men and no escape in sight. Despite her best efforts, a single tear escaped down her cheek.

Parker smiled. An arrogant, self-satisfied smile as he pulled her from the large brute's grip with one hand and wiped the tear with the other.

"Don't cry, my dear. I won't make you wait long."

He crushed her against his chest and brought his lips down to hers. But Phoebe hadn't lost all of her fight yet. She didn't have much time left, if these men's words were to be taken seriously, and there was no way she would allow Gregory Parker's kiss to be her last memory. If she was going to die, she would die knowing only the taste of Will Caffey's lips.

She turned her face away, but that didn't slow him down. His lips, hot and slimy, slithered a path across her cheek and down her neck. She tried pulling away from his embrace, but that only seemed to entertain him. He laughed, a low, throaty laugh, then bit her sharply on the neck.

Phoebe cried out in pain.

"I told you I'd enjoy it more this way," he laughed again.

"We ain't got time," Rogers growled.

Parker rolled his eyes and sighed. "Then let's get this over with." He dug his fingers into her arm and pushed her through the door and into the darkness.

'Please, God. I need a miracle.'

A pack of coyotes howled not too far away, reminding her that she was nowhere near civilization. She was in the woods. And she was alone.

"I don't like that," Rogers complained. "Never heard 'em that close before."

"Then get to the car, you fool, so we can get out of here."

Phoebe fought hard against her captor, digging her heels into the ground and pulling away with all her might.

Parker shoved Phoebe hard. "Quit stalling!"

Then, out of the darkness, a deep, strong voice called out. "Now, is that any way to treat a lady?"