He let out a low groan.
Jesus Christ, he was coming around already.
They’d taped her ankles and calves to the chair legs but the chair didn’t have any arms so they’d simply taped her wrists together behind her back. If her arms had been tied to the chair she’d never have got enough force to head butt him, never even reached his chin. Somebody was going to regret the day they didn’t pay a few dollars more for some arms.
He moaned again, louder this time, and shifted on the floor.
She twisted and looked down at where the seat had been kicked out, saw a number of sharp splinters jutting out. She sat down, guiding her arms through the hole, pushing herself forward against the tape binding her legs to make enough room to move her arms up and down.
She couldn’t see what she was doing behind her back, couldn’t have taken her eyes off him even if she wanted to. The sharp wood rubbed the heels of her hands raw, splinters embedded themselves in her flesh, making her gasp every time she caught them on the frame of the chair. Blood ran down her hands and dripped off the tips of her fingers onto the floor.
It was working, but it wasn’t fast enough. He was coming around, he’d wake up any second. The pressure around her wrists eased as, one by one, the fibers of the tape gave way. She pushed her arms harder apart, her aching muscles screaming. Then, with a sudden jerk, she was through, her arms flying outwards and into the rim. Her arms were nearly numb but there was no time to work some life back into them. She bent double until her chest was resting on her thighs and went to work on the tape around her legs. She wished she had something to cut it with, it was far too slow unwinding it, around and around.
The guy rolled his head to the side, opened his eyes, but he was still groggy. He saw her and his whole body jerked as the memory of where he was and what he was doing came flooding back. He tried to push himself up onto his elbows, but he was too dazed. The thick, corded veins on his arms bulged with the exertion and then he collapsed and lay still, waiting for his strength to return.
She looked frantically around the room. Beyond the desk, past the guy on the floor, a baseball bat leaned up against the wall. It didn’t surprise her. There’d been plenty of unlucky people brought here before her. The last loop of the tape came free from the first leg. There wasn’t time to untie the other one. He was propped up on his elbows now, shaking his head, trying to clear it, flecks of blood flicking from his chin.
She stood, her eyes locked on the bat. She had to get past him first. She dashed forward dragging the chair behind her. He swung his leg viciously at her, caught the trailing chair leg as she hobbled past. The force of the kick spun the chair, the momentum taking her with it, spinning her crazily into the wall. She hit it hard, the jolt knocking the wind out of her as she crumpled to the floor in a tangle of legs and arms and chair frame. The bat was still a foot away from her desperate, scrabbling hands.
She lunged for it and her fingers almost had it, before it was jerked away as he rolled to the side, grabbed the chair leg and pulled, the strength in his arm easily dragging her with it towards him. She couldn’t beat him in a tug of war across the floor, didn’t stand a chance against his weight and strength.
But she was fit and supple from all the long hours dancing and she had abs any guy in the gym would die for. She bent double at the waist like a jack-knife snapping shut and stabbed her middle finger into his eye. He screamed and let go of the chair, clamped his hand over his eye. She threw herself across the floor, scrambled to her feet and picked up the bat. The smooth, polished wood of the handle was comforting in her hands and she didn’t care about the dirty stains on the business end. She was about to add a few more.
A surge of adrenalin pumped through her veins, charged her muscles with a vibrancy and strength she never imagined lived inside her. All the fear and tension of the last few hours were ready to be let loose in a flood of cathartic violence. Nothing could hold it back. He knew it too. A thrill coursed through her as she saw the fear in his good eye, watched him scuttle pathetically across the floor on his butt. She took a fast step forward, swung the bat and knocked his head into the middle of next week.
Every bone in her body screamed at her to hit him again and again until his head was a bloody pulp, but it wasn’t in her. Despite everything he’d done, everything he’d wanted to do, the way he’d violated her, she couldn’t do it. She laid the bat on the table but made sure the handle was in easy reach just in case. She unwound the remaining tape on her leg and used it to bind his hands behind his back. She did the same with his ankles using the piece she dropped earlier. Finally, she stuffed a dirty rag she found lying in the corner into his mouth. She didn’t ever want to hear another word come out of it—if he came around.
Only then did she feel safe enough to dress herself and take a proper look around. The room was small. There was the door the guy had come through, the one to the outside world, and another one which led into the main warehouse. The wall on that side was one large window with floor to ceiling blinds so the manager in the office could either open them to keep an eye on what was going on out there or close them for privacy.
She tried the outside door but it was locked as she’d known it would be. She’d heard him lock it. The keys were in his pocket. She wasn’t going to fish them out if she could help it. She’d have to turn him over and he might wake up in the middle of it. She didn’t think she’d be able to hit him with the bat again, however much he deserved it, not in cold blood, and despite being tied hand and foot he might overpower her. He was twice her size.
A muffled groan from behind the gag in his mouth clinched it. What the hell was his head made of? She wasn’t going near him again, no way. She’d find another way out.
The light from the office spilled through the open blinds a little way into the dark space beyond. The rest of it was in total darkness. She had no idea how big it was or if there was anything in it. She opened the door and stepped cautiously through, convinced somebody was waiting to jump her. She ran her hand up and down the wall, feeling for a light switch, hoping she didn’t find anything worse. She found it and flicked it on. Nothing. She needed a flashlight. She wasn’t about to just feel her way around, not out there.
The sight of the guy’s one good eye wide open and watching her as she stepped back into the office made her gasp and take a step backwards, the look of hatred shrivelling her insides. He shifted himself into a sitting position and mumbled something unintelligible behind the gag. Her eyes instinctively flicked to the bat on the table. His did the same and he smiled. The bastard knew she didn’t have the heart to use it, just as surely as she recognized the evil living behind his eyes.
She went to the desk and rooted through the drawers, trying her best to ignore him, her skin crawling just the same. She knelt down and pulled out all the junk, both hands working alternatively, throwing it behind her like some huge, demented rodent digging a burrow. She was in luck—a battered old flashlight sat at the back of the bottom drawer, looking like it hadn’t been used for years.
She tried it and sent up a silent prayer of thanks when a thin, wavering, yellow light lit up the floor. It was better than nothing for as long as it lasted. She picked up the bat and hefted it in her hands, looked across at him, but he only laughed in her face. She switched off the light, plunging the room back into darkness, all the while conscious of his eyes on her. He yelled something at her through the gag, setting her nerves on edge as she stepped out into the inky blackness and slammed the door behind her, her throat tight and a taste in her mouth so bitter it was as if she was the one choking on a filthy rag.
She’d always hated the dark, afraid of the nameless horrors that lurked in the shadows. Even now she slept with the blinds open. Somewhere out in the darkness, beyond the small and already fading circle of light from the flashlight, something scurried away, the last of her confidence departing with it.
Chapter 54
DESTINY SAT IN THE toilet stall with her elbows on he
r knees and her head in her hands. She wanted to cry. This was so much worse than she’d anticipated. Going with Gina to meet Evan and then the big meeting in his hotel room had all seemed so much fun. A great big adventure. Even in the bar everything had been fine. She’d enjoyed flirting with him. But the minute she’d walked into the club, all her confidence had deserted her. And then that complete cock up with Samantha. But she knew she had to go through with it. If she’d let Evan walk out, what would happen to Gina? She needed to get herself together.
She fished the two little brown envelopes out of her bag. Thank God she’d bent the corner of the fake one otherwise she wouldn’t be able to tell them apart. She straightened out the corner, smoothed it flat with her finger. It left a crease, but so what? Nobody would notice. She put it back in her bag. Then she opened the flap on the other one and emptied the contents into the toilet bowl. She screwed the envelope into a little ball and dropped it on top of the white powder dissolving in the water underneath her. She waited a minute for it to get soggy and then flushed the whole lot away. Then she flushed again for good measure.
She came out of the stall and went to look at herself in the mirror. Putting her bag on the shelf next to the sink, she splashed her face with cold water. Her face was too pale and her eyes made her think of a small, frightened animal. She couldn’t think how she’d ever done this for real, drugging some poor guy. Behind her the door flew open and two of the girls staggered in. One of them was staggering anyway. The other girl was helping her, holding her up, one arm round her shoulders, the other on her elbow, guiding her towards one of the toilet stalls. Destiny watched them in the mirror, caught the eye of the one helping.
‘She’s feeling really sick,’ the girl explained in response to Destiny’s questioning look.
I know just what she feels like.
She got the girl into the stall where she dropped onto her knees in front of the toilet bowl and rested her arms on the rim.
‘Oh God, I feel so sick,’ she wailed.
She leaned forward and dry retched into the bowl, the other girl standing over her, holding her hair to keep it out of the water. The girl stopped retching and knelt back up, her pitiful sobbing echoing around the room. Destiny stood transfixed, watching in the mirror, her own worries forgotten for the moment.
‘I’ve got these terrible cramps—’ she started and then dived headlong towards the bowl and retched more violently than ever.
Destiny turned to face them, her hand covering her mouth.
The girl helping leaned further forward over her friend. ‘Oh my God, she’s coughing blood.’
Destiny heard the sound of something wet slapping the porcelain and dripping into the water. Her stomach turned over.
‘She’s coughing blood,’ the helper shrieked again.
Destiny couldn’t just stand there watching any longer. She rushed across to the stall and leaned in to see. Below her the water in the bowl was turning pink. There were bright red spatters on the white porcelain. The girl helping pushed her back roughly.
‘Don’t just stand there gawping,’ she screamed at Destiny. ‘She’s haemorrhaging!’
The girl with her head in the toilet shuddered violently and her pitiful sobbing turned into a high pitch wail. Destiny stood staring, her mouth open, unable to move.
‘Get Samantha!’ the helper shouted at her.
Destiny didn’t move. The girl slapped her on the arm.
‘Go and get Samantha. She’ll know what to do.’
She grabbed Destiny’s arm and shook her. ‘Now!’ she screamed in her face.
Destiny’s legs came to life and she turned and ran for the door. She crashed through it and headed down the corridor as fast as she could.
Back in the restroom the helper waited until the door had slammed shut behind her, and then took a couple of swift strides over to where Destiny’s bag was still sitting open on the shelf next to the sink. In the toilet stall her friend had made a miraculous recovery.
***
WHEN DESTINY GOT BACK with Samantha the sick girl seemed a whole lot better. She was sitting on the floor with her legs stretched out in front of her, her eyes shut, resting her head against the cool tiles on the wall. Her face was pale and her eye makeup was streaked down her cheeks. Her friend crouched in front of her, stroking her hair and making soft, reassuring noises.
‘I think she’s okay now,’ the helper said to Samantha.
Samantha hunkered down in front of the sick girl and took one of her hands. The girl opened her eyes and nodded weakly. Samantha produced a tissue from somewhere and dabbed gently at the girl’s mouth. ‘I think maybe you should take her home,’ she said and stood up again. ‘See how she’s feeling in the morning.’
The two girls nodded. For the second time that night Destiny was amazed at how nice Samantha was being to everyone. It wouldn’t last.
‘Come on Destiny,’ Samantha said, putting a hand on her arm and guiding her towards the door. ‘Lots to do.’
She winked at her. ‘Don’t forget your bag.’
Destiny realized with a shock that she had forgotten about her bag in all the panic and excitement. Her heart missed a beat. She turned and saw it was still on the shelf where she’d left it. Thank God for that. She picked it up and followed Samantha out.
Samantha stopped outside the door and put a hand on Destiny’s shoulder.
‘Are you sure you’re still okay to do this? You look like you’ve had quite a shock. Maybe you need to go home as well.’
‘I’m fine, really.’
‘I won’t be annoyed if you’re not feeling up to it. Best to back out now if you think there might be a problem later.’
Destiny shook her head and gave Samantha her brightest smile. It seemed like she was desperate for Destiny to pull out. Almost as if she knew what Destiny was up to. Well, she was going to be disappointed.
‘Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be fine.’
Just you wait and see.
Chapter 55
‘I THOUGHT YOU’D FALLEN asleep in there,’ Evan said when she got back to the table. While she’d been gone he’d turned his chair so he got a better view of the stage without cricking his neck. He turned it back again now.
She flopped down onto the chair and took a sip of her warm champagne. ‘Ugh.’ She pulled a face. ‘One of the girls was ill in there. Coughing up blood. It was horrible. I couldn’t just leave them to it.’
Evan nodded sympathetically. ‘Everything okay now?’
‘Yeah. We’re back on track.’
‘Good. How are you supposed to slip the drugs into my drink? Do I go to the men’s room?’
She shrugged. ‘That’s what we do some of the time. But some guys can drink all night and never take a leak.’
‘So what do you do then?’
‘A diversion,’ she said, the predatory smile back. ‘Wait and see. We’ve arranged something special for you.’
A shiver rippled momentarily through his body like somebody had walked over his grave. He didn’t like the way she said for you. What if she was working for them to set him up after all? Why would they arrange something different for him? Or was he just being too edgy? And that story about one of the girls being ill—that didn’t sound right.
‘Wouldn’t it be easier if I just went to the men’s room?’
‘It’s up to you.’ She winked at him. ‘Just so long as you don’t mind the other guys in here thinking you’re going for a quick ...’
She made an obscene gesture with her hand. He looked into her eyes. Was it a double bluff? He couldn’t tell. He was going to have to trust her.
‘No. Do it the way you planned. They might get suspicious otherwise.’
She smiled and squeezed his hand, turned around and caught Samantha’s eye across the room. She gave a small nod and then turned back to him.
‘Here we go.’
***
THE MUSIC CHANGED AS a couple of different girls came on stage and started da
ncing together. Destiny nudged Evan who was still looking at her.
‘This is it, this is for you,’ she said and nodded towards the stage. ‘You’re supposed to be watching.’
‘Should I let my tongue hang out? Rub myself surreptitiously?’
‘Absolutely. Just be yourself.’
He looked around briefly at the girls on the stage and then turned back to her. ‘Aren’t I supposed to be so infatuated with you I’m not interested in anybody else?’
She giggled. The sound of her soft laugh on top of the two glasses of champagne he’d drunk almost made it true.
‘That’s in real life,’ she said, and mouthed a kiss at him. ‘This is make-believe, Alan. You’re a horny banker who’ll go for anything.’
He raised a finger and smiled. ‘Apart from Samantha.’ He looked across the room at her and the smile died on his lips.
‘What?’
‘She’s coming this way. I’m not joking this time.’
She tensed, the tendons standing out on the side of her neck. A vein he’d never seen before appeared, throbbing rapidly, in the center of her throat. She went to turn and he clamped his hand on her arm, felt her shaking gently.
‘Don’t turn around.’ He squeezed her arm reassuringly. ‘Relax. It’s going to be okay.’
She gave him a small smile, nodded her head.
It was up to her now, there was nothing he could do to help her. He turned towards the stage and watched the two girls dancing. They’d made their way across the stage so that they were right in front of their table. A special show for him, as she’d said. They both smiled at him when they saw him paying them some attention at last. They weren’t used to dancing for the back of people’s heads. Behind him, Samantha arrived at their table.
The Evan Buckley Thrillers: Books 1 - 4 (Evan Buckley Thrillers Boxsets) Page 46