This Time You Lose

By Chris Stralyn

What would you do if street thugs invaded your home? What if you’re a daycare provider, caring for a dozen children at the time?

Lisa Kaamp, a most unlikely heroine, faces just such a nightmare in This Time You Lose, the suspense driven story of one woman’s struggle to survive when she and the children she cares for become victims of a home invasion gone terribly wrong.

Lisa Kaamp operates a small childcare business out of her home in Nogeksum, Michigan. Highly respected and known for going the extra mile for her daycare kids, she thinks she’s handled every daycare emergency possible. But nothing prepares her for the horror she now faces.

Lisa finds herself bound and gagged, four strange men in her home, and the daycare children held hostage in the next room. Terrorized by her captors as the authorities work to meet the ransom deadline, she tries negotiating with the men for the release of the children, and soon realizes that at least one of them has no intention of letting anyone go.

With the deadline quickly approaching, Lisa must do the unimaginable to protect the children and get everyone out alive.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chris Stralyn
• Release date: Nov 11, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466176690

Chris Stralyn

Chris Stralyn never intended to be a writer. Short-order cook, security guard, safety officer, childcare provider, and teacher were all titles she’d worn – but never writer. Then she entered an essay contest for “The Worst Vacation Ever” and won. Writing became her new hobby, and soon she had several articles in print with local publications. This was followed by a short story, The Khaki Pants, which was published by RDR Publishing in an anthology that went on to sell over a million copies. A suspense thriller was her next undertaking, and in 2008 This Time You Lose was named a finalist in the TNBW Strongest Start Novel Competition. Four months later it earned the distinction of being a TNBW Readers Choice Top Ten Novel, and has remained on the Top Ten list ever since. Chris Stralyn continues to put pen to paper in her endeavour to appease the Muse within. She lives in Michigan with her husband and family.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

There it was again, a baby crying. Lisa strained to open her eyes as the cries grew louder. Was that Olivia? Couldn't be. She didn't have kids today.

Shadows danced across her lids as she tried once again to open her eyes. I just need a few more minutes, she thought. The soothing warmth of the waterbed pacified her and pushed the baby's cries further from her mind. Just a few more minutes.

Lisa relaxed as the soft chop of the ceiling fan swept a gentle breeze across her face. The coffee pot gurgled in the kitchen and the aroma of fresh coffee floated in the air. Coffee. That's what she needed. Not cappuccino, not flavored coffee, just good, old fashioned, straight up black coffee. Dan had given her the programmable coffeemaker for her birthday last year, and teased that it was so she could have her coffee the moment she woke up, before he had to speak to her. Now the scent of coffee called to her, and she could almost taste that first sip.

The baby's cries intensified, and Lisa forced herself to open her eyes. She squinted in the bright sunlight streaming through the bedroom window. A sharp pain shot through her skull and she squeezed her eyes shut tight. Migraine, a bad one.

Bit by bit she opened her eyes again, slowly adjusting to the brightness of the room. She needed one of her pills. And a big glass of water. Her mouth tasted oddly of pennies, and her throat was parched, as if she'd just finished a long run without a water bottle. Her tongue, thick in her arid mouth, played along the edge of her teeth, while her lips remained fused. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. Just get to the medicine cabinet, grab a pill, suck down some water and go back to bed. Maybe she could doze until her head stopped pounding. No, first she had to figure out where that crying was coming from. Then she could go back to bed.

She opened her eyes and rolled slowly onto her right side, away from the wall. A fiery pain surged through both arms as she moved, and a long, slow moan escaped from her throat. She struggled to sit up, but her limbs refused to cooperate and she toppled backward against the mattress, her arms trapped beneath her. Confusion and alarm swirled through her brain as she tried a second time to get up. Then all at once she realized what was wrong.

Her hands were bound behind her back.

Instantly, Lisa was wide-awake. Her pulse raced as she became aware of the broad piece of tape stretched tightly across her mouth. She shifted her jaw back and forth, the tape pulling and tearing at her lips. She had to get it off. She had to get loose. Oh God, what’s happening?

She kicked at the heavy quilt draped over her body. Her feet tangled in the sheets. Sobs caught in her throat as she squirmed from side to side, kicking harder and faster. Her chest grew tight. She couldn't get enough air. Darkness danced around the corners of her vision. She had to stop. Slow down. Think.

Lisa forced herself to lie still, then closed her eyes and sucked in several quick, deep breaths through her nose. She couldn't panic. She had to think. One more deep breath in, then out. Ok, she could do this. One thing at a time.

She had to get the tape off.

Rolling to her right, she rubbed her face back and forth against the mattress. A warm dampness caressed her cheek and she opened her eyes. Blood. The sheet was covered with blood!

Lisa bolted upright. A dark fog swirled around her, and the room spun wildly as she tried to steady herself. No, don't pass out; you've got to stay awake. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to stay conscious. But the darkness deepened, and she fell back against the bed and lay still.

She felt strange, almost absent, as if she were disconnected somehow. Yet her arms prickled with pain, and her head throbbed with every heartbeat. What was going on? And where was that crying coming from?

The darkness slowly lifted, and she glanced toward the nightstand. Her antique reading lamp dangled upside down off the edge, its cord saving it from the floor. The bedside clock and her son's photo were missing. Moving slowly, she eased onto her side and sat up in the middle of the bed.

Her eyes darted around the room. Beer cans littered the floor. Empty liquor bottles and crushed cigarette packs crowded the top of the chest of drawers. She spotted her alarm clock on the floor next to the wall; it's neon green numerals blinked 12:00, 12:00, 12:00. Her son's picture lay next to it, the glass shattered within the oak frame.

She stared for a moment at the photograph of Alex, dressed up as a policeman for Halloween, and her heart skipped a beat. She looked to the far side of the room.

The closet door stood wide open. Her husband's uniforms lay piled in a heap on the floor inside. She stared at the gunlock tossed on top of the pile and her breathing quickened. Slowly her focus moved upward, to the row of hooks across the back wall of the closet. Her stomach dropped. Dan's Sam Brown duty belt hung in its usual place -- but the holster was empty.

She scooted toward the edge of the bed, caught sight of her reflection in the dresser mirror, and stopped. A soft whine slipped from beneath the duct tape that covered her mouth.

Her left eye was bruised and swollen, and a streak of dried blood ran from a cut over her eyebrow to her ear. Her cheek, swollen and purple, sported a small cut just below her eye. As she stared at her reflection, all the horror of last night came back to her. The men. The pain. The way they had laughed when they held her down. How they cheered each other on as they took turns violating her.

She wished Dan were here. Tears spilled over onto her cheeks as she closed her eyes. No, they would have killed him. The way they had toyed with her, taunted her Dan would have died trying to stop them. And Alex. Oh God, she was glad Alex hadn't been home.

A voice. Startled, she opened her eyes and looked toward the bedroom door. She leaned forward, her muscles tense as she strained to see into the hallway. It was empty. Everything was quiet. Maybe she'd imagined it.

Anybody know where the God damn remote is?

Lisa panicked. It was him! He was still here. They were still here! She had to get out before they realized she was awake. Frantically she kicked the quilt to the floor and fought her way out of bed.

She moved across the room and leaned against the wall next to the door, then looked down the hallway into the kitchen. It looked empty, but she would have to go past the living room to get there, and then to the back door. If they were in the living room, she would never make it without them seeing her. Besides, the back door had jingle bells on it to let her know whenever one of the daycare kids came in or out. She would never get the door open without rattling the bells.

A man walked from the living room into the kitchen, and Lisa flattened herself against the wall. She heard the refrigerator door open, and then close; the crack and hiss of a soda can make her jump. Oh God, please don't let him come down the hallway. She held her breath as the seconds passed, straining to hear every sound. Rustling paper, the clunk of Dan's recliner being kicked back, muffled voices -- but nothing from the hallway. She forced herself to wait a few more seconds, then took a deep breath and peeked out the door. The man was gone. Lisa carefully closed the bedroom door with her foot. She'd have to find another way out.

Moving back around the bed, she kicked the laundry basket away from its place beneath the window, put her shoulder under the bottom grip of the lower casement and heaved upward. Pain radiated through her shoulder as the edge of the grip pressed into her skin. She moaned, and then pushed harder as she tried again to shove the window up and open. But it stayed put. No! She had to get out of here! She stepped back and looked at the window. It was locked. A soft moan escaped from beneath the tape -- with her hands tied behind her she couldn't reach the levers.

Lisa glanced again at the bedroom door. She had to get the window open; it was her only way out. She leaned her face against the glass, placed her chin next to one of the twin latches and pushed. The latch moved. Yes! She unlocked the second catch and tried again to open the window. Please, please open! It didn't budge. She glanced toward the door again and tried one last time. Come on... she had to get out of here! But it was no use; she would never get it open this way. She had to get her hands free.

She moved in front of the dresser and looked over her shoulder into the mirror. Her hands were bound with duct tape. It was wrapped first around one wrist and then the other, with a twisted, rope-like section between them, not unlike Dan's handcuffs. Pulling against the tape, she tried to wiggle her hands down past her backside. Come on... come on, she'd seen Alex do it often enough when he played with dad's cuffs. She just needed to get her hands down behind her knees and step through, then she could open the window and get out. But the small section of tape between her wrists just wasn't long enough, and she couldn't wiggle them down far enough to step through.

The sound of voices startled her and she spun toward the door expecting to see one of them, but there was no one there; the door was just as she'd left it. Lisa stood still and listened. The TV. They had turned on the television. Good. Maybe she still had time to escape.

Pulling and twisting, she tried to loosen the binding around her wrists as she scanned the small room, looking for something, anything, which she could use to cut through the tape. Her gaze fell across the tall, mirrored headboard. Her collection of Chicken Soup books filled the single shelf, and yesterday's coffee cup lay on its side in front of them.

She stared at the remains of the coffee as it dripped down the sliding panels beneath the shelf. The phone. It was hidden inside the headboard. She had moved it out of sight so the daycare kids wouldn't play with it during naptime. Please God, she prayed, let it still be there.

Lisa half-crawled, half-rolled across the bed. Sliding one of the panels open with her head, she sobbed with relief when she saw the phone was still there. She knocked the receiver off and pushed the auto-dial button for central police dispatch with her nose, then rubbed her mouth against her shoulder, trying unsuccessfully to loosen the duct tape.

Central dispatch, what is your emergency?

Lisa leaned close to the phone and attempted to talk through the tape. Help me! Please help me!

I'm sorry, I can't understand what you're saying, the dispatcher replied. What is your emergency?

The door slammed open behind her. Lisa rolled onto her back and turned her face toward the door just in time to see one of them, the one called Ryan, enter the room.

A spider tattoo peeked from beneath the sleeve of his dirty, rock band t-shirt as he pushed his scruffy brown hair back from his forehead. Clicking the stud he wore through his tongue against his teeth, he grinned at Lisa.

Well, well, well, look who finally woke up. He grabbed her leg and pulled her toward him.

No! Lisa screamed through the tape. She tried to jerk her leg from his hand, and kicked viciously at him with her other foot, kicking until he released his hold on her. Then scooting as far from him as possible, she braced herself against the wall and stood up on the bed.

Ryan grinned as he climbed across the bed after her, and she realized - too late - she'd backed herself into a corner. There was nowhere to go. Ryan smirked and moved closer.

Lisa kicked at him. No! Get away from me! but the tape muffled her screams. She pressed herself tight against the wall, kicking again and again, until Ryan finally grabbed her foot, yanked her from her feet, and dragged her off the end of the bed.

Lisa's legs spun through the air. She kicked wildly and finally connected with his shin. He kicked back and twisted her leg, forcing her to roll onto her belly. She screamed as he grabbed both of her arms from behind. He pulled her to her feet and shoved her forward toward the bedroom door, half-pushing and half-carrying her. Lisa fought to break his grip on her arms, her muffled cries discernible through the tape.

No, no, no! Let go of me!

They moved through the door into the hallway and Lisa spotted Shon, another one of them, as he stepped from the kitchen into the hall. Shorter and much thinner than Ryan, his dyed blond hair and russet skin made him look more like a Florida beach bum than a Michigan boy.

She stopped struggling and held completely still as he moved down the hallway toward them. Stay calm. If you want to get out of here you have to stay calm. Wait... wait until he's closer. Now!

Lisa leaned back against Ryan, raised both legs to her chest and kicked as hard as she could when Shon stepped in front of them. The force of her kick sent him tumbling backward through the open bathroom door. He struck his head on the edge of the tub as he fell.

Ryan stumbled backward against the doorframe, but maintained his grip on Lisa's arms.

Let go! She slammed her head backward into his face.

He cursed and tightened his grasp, his ragged fingernails piercing her skin. She smashed her head backward again. A sickening crunch, and he loosened his hold.

Lisa pulled away and darted down the hall toward the kitchen and the back door. As she neared the end of the hallway, Tito stepped in from the living room. She skidded to a stop. He was one of them, the mean one, and there was no way around him.

Her heart pounded as she backed away from Tito, and directly into Ryan's grasp. She screamed and twisted sideways, trying to yank herself from his grip. He held tight and pulled her against his chest, the blood from his damaged nose spewing its warmth down the back of her neck. She slammed her head backward. Ryan kept his face out of reach. She kicked at his shins with her heel and tried again to pull away, but he squeezed her arms tightly together behind her. Pain screamed through her arms and shoulders. She stopped struggling. She could only watch as Tito approached.

Tall and powerfully built, his dark hair and thin goatee were distinct against his pale face. A half-smoked cigarette dangled between his lips as he stepped closer, the smoke curling and rising past the silver ring that hung from one ear. He wore one of Dan's uniform shirts, unbuttoned, over his Eminem t-shirt. Tattoos covered both of his arms below the shirtsleeves. Dan's 9-millimeter duty weapon was tucked into the front of his jeans.

His eyes, dark and menacing, seemed to cut straight through Lisa as he drew close, and she shuddered when he stopped in front of her. Tito smiled. He took the cigarette from his mouth and dropped it to the floor. Lisa's breath caught in her throat as he leaned closer, and slid his face next to hers. She squeezed her eyes shut. Stay calm. Just do what he says. Then he whispered in her ear.

Where you going, bitch?

Lisa's ribs exploded with pain as he punched her. Doubled over, she struggled to breathe, and tried again to break free. But Ryan held tight. Tito struck her again and snapped her head back, reopening the cut above her eyebrow. Her head spinning, she kicked at him in a futile attempt to get away. He laughed, and struck her again and again. Finally her knees buckled beneath her, and Ryan let her drop to the floor.

Put her with the others, Tito said, as she slipped slowly into unconsciousness.

The others? What others?

CHAPTER 2

Diane stretched across the queen-sized bed and turned off the alarm clock. 6 a.m. Ugh! Morning came way too early. She really shouldn't complain -- Scott had been called into work over an hour ago. Of course now the morning chaos of getting herself and three children out the door fell solely on her. It was time to get everyone moving.

She climbed out of bed, grabbed her yellow robe from the back of the door, and headed toward Kevin's room. Halfway down the hall she paused, and then smiled. There was no school today; it was a teacher in-service day or something. Diane turned and walked back up the hall to the bathroom. She flicked the light on and pulled a washcloth from the shelf. Monday mornings were always difficult, but at least today she could let the kids sleep while she got ready for work. No lunches to pack, no books to find, no backpacks to fill. Just get them up, get them fed, and get them off to daycare.

Lathering soap onto her face, she smiled again. The kids were going to Lisa's today. Maybe she'd let them splurge a little at breakfast. Have syrup instead of peanut butter on their waffles. She rinsed her face and grabbed a towel, breathing in the fresh clean smell as she buried herself in its softness. Then savoring the peace and quiet, she began the daily struggle to tame her coiled, auburn hair. Yes, she'd let them splurge. It wasn't everyday that they got to spend the whole day at Lisa's. And Lisa would keep a close eye on them. Shaking her head, she looked into the mirror. What would she ever do without Lisa?

*****

Diane and Scott Shelanski had moved to the peaceful little town

Reviews for This Time You Lose

[permaswooned · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Novel about a home invasion/hostage situation that moved along well, but was a bit generic. It was a freebie, so the price was right.