Stop it! That’s not helping. You’ll get back to her. Until an idea comes to me or an opportunity presents itself, I need to wait, to watch, and be ready for it.
That thought hadn’t completely formed before a car drove up next to where they were parked. She saw both doors open on her side—so a driver and passengers, at least three. She shot her legs against the window and jackhammered it as hard as she could. She heard one of the passengers—a child?—scream, startled.
Mia kicked harder. She felt herself getting stronger, her hopes rising with every thud of her heels against the window. Beneath the sounds of the blood pounding in her head and her feet hammering the door, she heard a man’s voice, low and reassuring and her fear caught in her throat.
Derek was talking to them. A woman’s voice, and then another man’s. They were buying whatever Derek was telling them. What if this was her only chance? Mia kicked harder until the door flew open and her feet kicked air. He grabbed her feet and yanked her hard across the seat, her tied hair stopping the movement and wrenching her head back.
He slapped her hard but her long hair covered much of her face and softened the blow, which seemed to infuriate him. He slammed the door and climbed into the driver’s seat.
“You want to make the rest of the trip in the trunk, I’m happy to oblige,” he snarled, starting the car up and slamming it into reverse. “Just keep it up. There’s only one way this is going down. Vickie used me and she used my girls. Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about, bitch. You know what I’m talking about!”
All Mia knew was that they were leaving the only public place they were likely to hit before he drove them to God knows where. If not now, when? She arched her back and thrashed and kicked as hard as she could anywhere she could reach—the back of his seat, the window, the ceiling.
“You crazy bitch! What are you doing? You don’t think I’m serious? You want to end up dead? I’ll kill you, you bitch! Just like Vickie. Just like fucking Vickie!”
Mia felt the car swerve. She knew they weren’t on I-75 yet. Outside she could see only dark trees—the streetlights clustered around the bathrooms at the welcome center were only a glow now.
“You think I’m playing games? Is that what you think?”
The car slammed to a stop and Mia tumbled off the seat onto the floor. She didn’t know what was coming next but she knew she needed her strength for it. She waited, her heart pounding, as he bolted from of the car and jerked open her back passenger door. She felt him grab the cords that tied her hair and begin to rip the hair from them. The screaming agony in her scalp vied with the terrible cramping in her shoulders from where she lay on her hands behind her.
The minute she could lift her head, she jumped at him, using her head as a battering ram. She felt it connect with his jaw, but softly, impotently.
Her attempt seemed to light a fuse of fury in him that was palpable in the air of the car. She twisted away from him, but with her hands behind her she only had her feet and her head as weapons. He grabbed her by the shoulders. She ducked her head into her shoulder but could still hear him screaming and cursing, felt the spittle from his lips splash across her face. A blow connected to her mouth, blessedly shooting her into oblivion.
When she swam slowly back to consciousness, she realized it was the agony in her shoulders that had roused her. She couldn’t tell how long she’d been out. She groaned and shifted to her side to relieve the pain of lying on her hands in the trunk. Opening her eyes did no good—open or closed, everything was black. The car was moving, the car radio was on but it was low. Something country.
Her chin was sticky and wet. She moved her tongue along her teeth but none seemed to be loose. Her jaw hurt. Her throat. Everything hurt. A wave of desperation and fear began to build in her chest and she took a steadying breath in a shaky attempt to assuage it.
Stay clear. Focus on what you need to do next.
*****
Jack toweled off after his shower. It had been far too long since he’d hit the gym. He’d really worked it tonight until his muscles screamed and his tendons begged for mercy—then scalded it all with a muscle-deep massage in the hot shower.
He felt like a new man. Was that because of the workout and the shower? Truthfully, hadn’t he felt that way ever since he walked out of the preliminary hearing a free man? Jack grinned. Or wasn’t it really ever since the moment he’d held Mia in his arms and claimed her as his own?
When your life changes so dramatically for the better—beyond any sense of reality or whatever’s happened in the past—isn’t every day like Day One of a wonderful new world order? He shook his head and opened his locker. Ready for my Oprah appearance any time now—“How love made me a new man.”
He pulled on a new T-shirt and glanced at his cell phone. And frowned. At first he thought the text must be from Mia. He didn’t have that many people he received texts from, unless you counted the girl who cut his hair to remind him of his next appointment. And this was an alert. He didn’t remember signing up for any alerts, but Mia with her usual disregard for boundaries might very well have downloaded one to his phone.
He pulled on his boxers, then clicked on the link. Instantly a GPS map opened up showing a dot moving steadily south toward Macon on I-75.
Is this that Wojinziky guy Mia’s tracking? Why am I getting the alert? A clammy feeling came over him. His stomach began the initial fluttering of churning. Before reaching for his jeans, he put a call in to Maxwell, who answered on the third ring.
“I need a favor,” Jack said when Maxwell answered. His anxiety crept up his arms like a living thing as he clamped the phone between his shoulder and jaw and pulled his pants on. “And you’re welcome to never let me forget it if I’m wrong. But I think Mia’s in trouble.”
*****
With her hands tied behind her, it had taken Mia longer to activate the secondary tracker she kept in the trunk than she’d expected. Now all she could do was pray that Jack noticed the alert—and understood what it meant. Forcing her physical discomforts to the back of her mind, she allowed the rumble and movement of the car to soothe and calm her.
She would need all her strength, all her wits for whatever awaited her at the end of the car trip. Her mind flittered back and forth. Derek said he would kill her just like he did Victoria. Isn’t that what he said? Or words to that effect? So was he the murderer? Why did he kill Tracy? For what possible reason? Why was he doing this? Does he think I’m connected to Victoria in some way? Has he confused us?
The car slowed and Mia felt it shift direction slightly, exiting the interstate. It stopped for a moment and she held her breath. Derek had turned off the radio. He was getting ready for something. The car made a hard right turn and then accelerated. Mia knew he was taking her further away from I-75. They hadn’t driven far enough to make it to the suburbs of Macon, so they were in deep country now. Even the road felt rougher.
Was anyone seeing the alerts? Mia’s eyes went to the tracker. She watched its light blink relentlessly, reassuringly. She scooted over to it and wedged it back inside its bag so Derek wouldn’t see it when he opened the trunk. The car began to slow and then turned sharply, throwing Mia against the sidewall. There was barely any room to move around or reposition herself—especially with her hands tied. Even if she’d had a gun stashed back here, which she didn’t, her hands were tied too tightly to have it do any good. She’d barely been able to manage to flip the activation switch on the tracker.
The car was stopping. She felt it leave the badly paved road for an even bumpier one and then stop entirely. All her efforts to remain calm were swept away in the physical sensation of sitting in the stilled car. Her gag, sopping with saliva, had fallen from her mouth and now hung from her neck. She braced herself with her feet wedged against the side of the trunk. He’d expect her to kick him when he opened the trunk. He’d be ready for her. Or would he? She brought her knees up to her chest and waited. She heard the sounds of his shoes crunching on the dirt and gravel road as he wa
lked to the back of the car. He stood there, waiting. Mia held her breath, her legs beginning to shake with the effort to hold them poised in position.
The trunk unlatched and began to open, the night air pouring into the fetid enclosure. Moonlight gushed light into the trunk, blinding Mia as she lashed out with her feet—hitting nothing.
“Figured you have something like that planned for me, little sis,” Derek said, sniggering as he grabbed one of Mia’s feet and began pulling her out of the trunk. Her face smashed against the spare tire and she fought to get her other leg straight before he snapped it in two. He grabbed her by the front of her jacket and yanked, banging her head against the trunk lid. Mia cried out, her head spinning with gold and black flecks of pulsating stars.
“Almost done now, girl,” he said. “If you make me carry you, I’ll cut you first.”
Mia’s legs threatened to give out beneath her but she struggled to her feet. He gripped her arm and she stumbled alongside him. They were in a dark, uninhabited stretch of countryside. The car was on a dirt road. She could see lights in the distance. Not too far.
Stall him, stall him.
He dragged her relentlessly toward an abandoned trailer set off the road in the weeds. No lights on. No car parked near it. A dog barked in the distance. Mia imagined the farmhouse, its inhabitants sleeping peacefully…so close. Had Daisy been fed yet tonight?
Derek pushed her toward the trailer stairs. She fell against the handrail, feeling his impatience in his grip. How can I stall him? Should I collapse? Pretend to faint? He’ll cut me. Is that better than what’s waiting for me inside?
“Move it, bitch,” he snarled, pushing her. He glanced over his shoulder. He’s afraid the car will be seen. So this isn’t that remote. How long until Jack found her? Dear God, was he even looking for her? She crumpled to the ground, her hands behind her, her head bowed. He reacted by grabbing her hair and pulling her head back.
“You think I’m bluffing?”
She knew he wasn’t. She felt it in the hand that touched her hair, the fury and hatred that radiated from his fingers to swamp her entire body. It was the touch of a killer. A killer bent on killing again. Her body began to shake and she squeezed her eyes shut.
“Sick,” she whispered. She couldn’t take much more contact with this kind of evil. It was undiluted, scorching her skin, careening through her head like a crazed pinball.
“You throw up on me and I’ll make you eat it,” he said, releasing her and stepping back. The relief of his removing his hand was immediate. Her head cleared and she opened her eyes. He was watching the road, looking in both directions.
Was he expecting someone else? Was this a rendezvous? The thought gave Mia a small schism of hope. Not too many people can match this level of depravity. Surely, if someone else comes…
Derek turned and ran up the trailer stairs and wrenched open the door. He stood there for a moment as if sniffing the air inside, then jumped back onto the ground and grabbed Mia again by her hair. In spite of the explosion of pain that erupted in her head, she made her weight go limp. It was her only hope. He kicked her in the stomach. The pain reverberated in her gut. She vomited but only bile dribbled out of her mouth. In the gloom, she saw him draw his knife out of his pocket.
“You better start walking,” he snarled.
She forced herself to her feet. He hadn’t noticed she was no longer gagged. Was there anybody around to hear her scream?
The trailer was now only five feet away.
She couldn’t let him get her in there.
While he wasn’t big, he still outweighed Mia by sixty pounds. Before she could make up her mind to fall down again, he wrapped a wedge of her hair around his fist and pushed her ahead of him.
Maybe there was a weapon inside. Jack, where are you?
She stumbled up the stairs, held upright by his ruthless grip on her hair, the pinch of the knife unrelenting and insistent in the small of her back. On the first step across the threshold, Mia tripped. She managed to stay upright but leaned against the doorjamb for balance. Derek cursed and released her to push past her.
The moonlight streamed through a large picture window illuminating the interior of the trailer. A table was knocked over, the chairs on their sides and scattered about the room. Against one wall was a sofa. Derek shoved the table out of the way and grabbed her arm, pinching viciously into her flesh. He tugged her toward the couch.
The time for stalling is done. You missed it. The window is closed.
Mia stared at the stained and battered couch and felt her lunch begin to inch its way up her throat.
“Been thinking about this for about three weeks now,” Derek said from behind her. “Take your jeans off. And your underwear.”
Don’t speak. Let him figure it out. Don’t make it easy for him. She turned to him, her hands still fastened behind her back.
He laughed. “Oh, yeah, what am I thinking?”
Derek pushed her down on the couch and stood over her, peeling his own jeans off first. Mia could see he was hard—probably had been the whole drive here—and he wasn’t going to wait any longer.
She forced herself to appear as docile as she could, the fear coursing through her in surges. Her arms ached from where she lay with her full weight on them and she tried not to let the pain distract her.
Timing…it’s all in the timing.
“You think you’re so smart. You and Vickie,” Derek rasped, his face flushed with lust and exertion. “Two of a kind. Bitches, both of you.”
Let him focus on the end goal. Let him see it, taste it.
As if to punctuate her unspoken words, the buttons on her blouse—strained by her hands being held behind her back—popped. His eyes went to her chest and he grabbed the blouse with both hands and ripped the fabric away, exposing her bra. He pulled her bra down off her shoulders and her breasts sprang free. The air was cold against her skin but she willed the sensation away. She needed to be ready and the timing had to be right.
He licked his lips, his eyes on her bare breasts now not her eyes, and she saw the moment he was ready, when the world dropped away for him and there was only her semi-naked body before him like a juicy T-bone on a plate. He planted both hands by her head to steady himself and hovered over her.
Now! She brought her knee up hard into his groin and caught him solidly. Not waiting for his reaction, Mia squirmed out from under his collapsing form and fought to get to her knees on the floor. His moans were followed quickly by curses.
That meant he was recovering.
She jerked to her feet and stumbled to the door of the trailer, fearing the feel of his hands on her naked back any moment.
“You bitch, I’ll kill you slow for this! I’ll cut your tits off and screw you and then kill you! I’ll see you dead!”
Don’t listen, just move.
The path was clear to the door but the door was shut. Mia fell against it and it sprung open, tossing her down the three-step drop to the weeds and gravel below. He was right behind her now. As she scrambled to her feet, she heard him grunt as he jumped down behind her. Her head jerked back as her grabbed her hair.
In the back of her mind, Mia heard the sounds, saw the lights—but they made no sense to her. Only escape mattered. Only escape made sense. Taking in a loud intake of breath, she opened her mouth and let out the most unholy scream she would ever remember hearing. Derek actually hesitated in the face of it, then twisted her around to face him and drew his fist back. She squeezed her eyes shut and heard the impact of flesh on bone, the agonizing groan of incomprehensible pain registering on all sensors.
When she opened her eyes, she saw Jack—an aluminum baseball bat in his hands— standing over Derek’s twitching body on the ground. He turned to her and she fell into his arms. Every one of the stings and welts and gashes she’d fought to ignore all night long finally came together in a cacophonic symphony of agony to tell her in no uncertain terms—she was alive.
Chapter 16
&nbs
p; Life got boring.
Jack leaned over Mia’s sleeping form in his bed and watched her face. Her eyes were blinking rapidly behind her eyelids. She was dreaming. He brushed a long tendril of dark hair from her face and she stirred. She must have been on the verge of awakening. He loved seeing her like this. About as vulnerable as this girl can get.
Unless you count that terrible night eight weeks ago when she fell into his arms, naked from the waist up, her hands tied behind her back, sobbing like he’d never seen her do and quivering in his arms.
He’d never forget the race down I-75, flanked by police cruisers, sirens blaring, growing ever closer to the dot that had stopped on the GPS map. All the while knowing that a stopped dot meant something else was happening. How had they found her in time? He knew he owed God massive time on his knees for that one. That, and a stubborn woman named Mia intent on breaking all the rules and scribbling in the margins.
Thank God.
He leaned over and kissed Mia’s full lips and she languidly opened her eyes and smiled at him.
“Perv,” she whispered around her smile.
“I’ll show you perv,” he said, slipping into bed with her and drawing her body against his. He cupped her bottom with both hands and felt her throaty laugh as if it was coming from inside him.
“No time, dear boy,” she said, her eyes closed again. She stretched in his arms and yawned. “Work to do.”
“You are indefatigable,” he said, kissing her mouth again.
“I was just going to say the same thing about you.”
“I think we have time,” he said, squeezing her bottom. But she pulled away.
“That’s just it, Jack,” she said, sitting up in bed and stretching again. “We have all the time in the world. After we finish out work.”
In the two months since Mia’s abduction, she had become more determined than ever to find Victoria’s killer—and that meant going through all the guys on the list one by one. In some ways, crazy Derek’s attack had reinvigorated Mia’s determination to find the real killer—as if she’d needed more reasons.
Complete Mia Kazmaroff Page 77