by Dale Mayer
She laughed. “And here that should be my line.”
He glared at her. “Just stop talking,” he said.
“Yep,” she said. “I can do that.”
He pointed the gun in her direction again, letting her know no more talking would be allowed.
She settled into the couch, then leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Nothing else she could do right now. She had sowed the seed of doubt and had made him worry for his wife and his kids, but, beyond that, she’d have to wait and see. It would be a cat-and-mouse affair. It just remained to be seen who would be the damn mouse.
It took two bullets, one from each gun, to drop the two armed men facing them. Gavin and Shane didn’t shoot them to kill, but one had moved into the bullet and had unfortunately died on the spot. The other one, realizing his partner was down, was already holding his shoulder, where the other bullet went, crying like a baby.
Thankfully this tunnel seemed to muffle their shots, as no bad guys came running to check out the noise. And Gavin wasn’t too worried about the crying man being heard in either house, as the tunnel was underground, and this odd anteroom seemed to be adjacent the basement to the first house, by his calculation.
Of the third man, there was no sign, though Shane swore he had heard a third voice. Checking to make sure the first man was dead, Shane quickly found a bandanna and some zip ties on the dead man’s body. He handed the bandanna and some ties to Gavin, as Shane tied up the injured man’s hands behind his back, pushed him into a stray chair in this anteroom, and asked the guy, “Where are they?”
The man just blubbered about his shoulder and needing help.
Shane leaned over and smacked him hard across the face.
“Where’d the third guy go?” But there was no getting any sense out of him. Shane disappeared, on the hunt for the third man, running back toward the second house, since this first house may have even more visitors inside now.
Meanwhile, Gavin kicked away the man’s handgun, cocked his own, and held it against the man’s head. “Shut the fuck up.”
The man took several deep breaths, trying to control his sobbing.
“Where is the old couple?”
His captive’s eyes widened, and he shook his head.
“Where are they?”
His eyes darted side to side, but he didn’t say anything.
Gavin knocked him off the chair and onto the concrete floor, where he tied up his feet and then tied his bound hands and feet together, behind him, so he couldn’t get loose, and stuffed the bandanna in his mouth. Gavin’s final act was to pick up the two guns off the floor, stuffing one in the back of his jeans at the waistband, the other in the front of his waistband, then covering both with his shirt. He carried his firearm in his hand. Then Gavin checked out the next door on the opposite side of the anteroom, testing the waters before diving in.
The basement of the first house. Gavin stepped through. How had they missed this? Turning around, he studied that entranceway. Seemed one of the walls with shelving served double duty as a secret door to this end of the hidden tunnel.
Gavin quickly did a sweep of its basement once more, hopeful, but found nothing. Why would you have three guards and nothing to guard?
Shaking his head and wondering where else the old couple could be, he got a weird feeling. He looked out one of the high basement windows, happy to see the driveway leading to this first house was empty. So our trio of guards parked elsewhere and walked here. Maybe drove the black truck to the second house, parked it in the garage, bringing the parents with them.
Then Gavin checked for his vehicle, farther down in that copse, and realized something was wrong. The car door was ajar. Swearing under his breath, he made a split-second decision. He tapped his comm, and Shane answered immediately. “There’s a problem at the car.”
“Go,” Shane said. “I’m fine here.”
Taking his buddy at his word, Gavin quickly raced back to the basement anteroom and checked the gunman, who was now bleeding at a decent rate but still alive. Gavin shut that door and bolted across the basement to the other side, quietly climbing the steps to the first floor, stopping at the connecting door. He could hear voices inside this house. Sure enough, it was Rosalina.
Swearing softly under his breath, he listened as she tried to convince this guy that men were coming after him and then he would be in trouble.
She obviously wasn’t under extreme duress because of the evenness of her voice. But she was also one damn smart cookie and was trying to get into this guy’s head. As Gavin overheard that kids and a pregnant wife were involved, he understood that she was trying to get her gunman to see how his actions would impact his family’s lives.
Gavin turned the knob and let his breath out ever-so-gently as the door opened just a hair.
The voices immediately rose in volume as the sounds came through the now-open door. He pushed their voices to the side in his mind, thinking back to the layout of this first house, so he could remember exactly where the basement door was and realized it was through the pantry. He slowly opened the door farther and made his way through the pantry to the kitchen and still found no sign of anyone.
Holding his handgun in front of him, he made it through the kitchen to the dining room, following the trail to the voices. He peered around a doorway, and Rosalina sat on a couch with her back to Gavin, a gunman glaring at her. A huge man with dark skin, pointing a handgun at her and telling her to shut up.
Of course he’d be telling her to shut up, as nothing she had to say he would want to hear.
Gavin turned back and took another route, slipping from the dining room into the front hallway and moved his way around to the back, so he could come up on the other side of the living room. Then he saw another vehicle pull up front.
Swearing softly, he backed up and came around to where he had been before. He could take out the one guy, but that would alert the others outside that trouble was within. That he couldn’t have. He needed to take this guy out and get her free and clear, but, as Gavin tried to formulate a plan in the dining room, two men walked in the front door.
The dominant one, the obvious leader, strode in with purpose, the other following him. When the leader took one look at her, he called out, “Great, you got one.”
“Yeah,” the big man said. “I did. So bonus for me, right?”
“Absolutely,” the leader said, and he pulled out his handgun and fired. In a split second, a round hole appeared in the mammoth of a man, and he dropped at Rosalina’s feet.
Chapter 11
Rosalina recoiled in shock, as the huge man fell to the floor with a hole in his head. She didn’t make a sound, but involuntary trembling racked her body with violent shivers. She stared in shock at the two new arrivals. “Why did you do that?” she whispered.
“He wanted a bonus,” the leader said carelessly. “So I gave him one.”
“He’s got two sons, and his wife is pregnant.”
“I don’t care. He should have thought of that before he got into this business,” the leader said. He stood with his hands on his hips and looked at her. “So now what am I supposed to do with you?”
She stared back mutely. She didn’t have a clue what had just happened or why. “What is this all about?” she asked. “From the moment we were kidnapped off the street, nobody understood why or what you wanted.”
“I don’t want anything,” he said. “I hired on for the job and hired more contractors to keep myself a little bit removed, but most of the locals are too damn stupid.”
“What has this got to do with my parents?” she whispered. She wrapped her arms around her chest, pulling her knees up, so she sat cross-legged, rocking gently on the couch—as if reverting back to a child with the shock of everything that had happened.
“And again I don’t really care why,” he said in a bold voice. “All I care about is making sure I follow things to the letter, and that means you, I’m afraid, will have to go.”
At his words she froze. “Go?” she asked faintly. “Please tell me that you’re not going to kill me.”
“Well, that’s what my orders are, yes,” he said, “but we need to make it look not quite so violent as this guy.”
“I’m supposed to die in an accident, is that the idea?”
“A terrible accident,” he said, with a nod. “Isn’t that tragic?”
But there was nothing tragic about his tone of voice. There was a detachment to it and almost a hint of amusement as he stared at her.
“Do I at least get to know why or how and who is paying you to do this?” she asked, her fingers tightening into fists as she tried to figure it out. She didn’t have a clue who would want her dead. She hadn’t thought she had any enemies. But, then again, she hadn’t gone out of her way to make any friends either. Were nonfriends then enemies by default? She hoped not because that left seven billion people on the planet who wouldn’t mind seeing her dead. What a thought.
“No, that’s part of the deal,” he snapped. “I’m not allowed to say anything.”
“So, do I get to meet this person who’s paying you?” she asked, her voice unsteady. “Do I get to meet the person who has ordered my demise?”
He shrugged. “Not exactly sure yet. Now that we have you, I’ll check in and see what they want to do.”
She kept her thoughts to herself as she heard the word they. So multiple people wanted her out of the equation? What had she done to deserve this? “Is the same fate planned for my parents too?” she asked. She studied his face, looking for any sign that her parents were alive.
“Maybe,” he said. “Remember? I’ll check in.”
“And so, do you have them too?”
“We never lost them,” he said. “Not exactly sure how you two got loose though.”
“Is it true that you killed the boss of the guy who tied me up? If so, that is too damn bad because he did a good job of it.”
“Not if you got loose,” he said. “Incompetence is not allowed.”
She had never even considered that her getting loose could have had an impact on another person like that. She didn’t even remember much, having come to in the chair, and then very rapidly seeing her sister across the table from her. “What about my sister?”
“What about her?” he snapped carelessly.
“Well, she’s loose too.”
“I know,” he said. “You both escaped.”
“So I’m only the one being punished?”
“I didn’t say that,” he said. “For all you know, we’ve already gone after her at the hotel again.”
“And have you?” she asked.
He just shot her a look and pulled out his phone to make a call. He motioned at the second man as he stepped away. “Keep an eye on her. She’s tricky.” And he walked out the front door, shutting it forcefully to stand on the veranda. He paced back and forth as he spoke on the phone.
What she wouldn’t do to have the ability to hear what he said. This was just too damn unbelievable. And she still had no idea where Gavin and Shane were either. Surely they were close.
She studied the second man, but he had an insolent look on his face as he studied her up and down. One of those creepy looks that said he’d like a few minutes alone with her before her “accident.” She pulled her knees up tight against her chest and held herself still.
“You should be scared,” he said.
“What’s it do for me?” she asked. “Guys like you thrive on fear.”
“You don’t know anything about me,” he said.
“No,” she said, with a wave of her hand, “but I know the type. You thrive on making everybody else afraid of you. It’s how you operate. With women in particular. You beat them up if they don’t do what you want, and you rape them just to prove that you can.”
Instantly the smile fell from his face. “You don’t know anything about me, bitch.” And he stormed toward her.
She glared at him. “Go ahead and mark me up,” she said. “You’ll have to make sure it’s a damn good accident to hide previous injuries.”
That stopped him in his tracks. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “That’ll be enough out of you.”
“Or what?” she said in disgust.
“Or I’ll get a gag,” he said. “And I’ll make sure it’s damn tight.”
“Again, previous injuries,” she said. “Do you really think the cops won’t figure out I was gagged before you shoved me in a vehicle and tossed me over a cliff?”
“Well, if they already know that,” he said, “it won’t matter if I blow apart your knees or chop off a finger, will it?”
“You should probably talk to your boss about that first,” she said with a sneer. “You’re not calling the shots, and neither is he. You’re both being paid. You’re nothing but little errand boys.”
He laughed. “You can’t get my goat by insulting me,” he said. “I’ve been called worse.”
“By the victims, I’m sure,” she said. “I wonder what your mama would think if she knew this is what you did for a living.”
“You leave my mama out of this,” he roared. “She’s in heaven, smiling down on what I’m doing.”
“Yeah, was she just like you then?”
“My mama was an angel,” he said, his gaze narrowing on her face. “Nobody gets to insult my mama.”
“Maybe not,” she said, “but imagine how she feels, looking at what you’re doing with your life. She couldn’t stay and enjoy her life and wanted only the best for you. And look. You’re just throwing it all away.”
“I’m not throwing nothing away,” he said. “I’m making money so I can leave this godforsaken island and go live like a king.”
“That’ll be fun,” she said. “In order to be king, you have to be king over someone. So … what? You’ll enslave a dozen people so you’re a leader and a boss?”
He pulled back and glared at her. “Just shut up,” he said and paced back and forth, his gaze on his partner outside on the veranda.
“You okay with him making plans without you? You already saw what happened to the other guy he hired.”
“We’ve been working together for a long time,” he said. “He needs me.”
“Guys like that don’t need anybody. Especially not long-term.”
“You’re not turning me against him,” he scoffed. “You think I haven’t heard it all before?”
“How many people have you killed?” she asked, inviting him to brag. “Probably none. You sure you’re not just all talk?”
“I have so,” he said. “And they weren’t just cheap little bitches like you.”
“Oh, so you’ve killed, and you think you’re a big man, huh?” she scoffed. “Probably teenage boys in their sleep, where they couldn’t protest, couldn’t fight back.”
“Like hell,” he roared. “I took out two businessmen here just last month.”
“Wow, what did they do? Talk down to you, or not give you a job when you asked for it?”
“The competitor wanted them taken out,” he said, laughing. “That’s what happens when you get too big for your britches and don’t listen to other people.”
“You mean, they ran their business smarter and wiser, offering better quality at lower prices, and so this competitor didn’t like that and wanted them killed?”
“Doesn’t matter. It never helps to get on the wrong side.”
“No,” she said, “it sure never helps to have everybody be assholes and kill you just because you did a good job. That’s hardly the reward they thought they would get.”
“Well, it’s the way life works,” he said.
“Not everywhere,” she said. “And, in many cases, not at all.”
“Whatever,” he said.
“Besides, were you the one who pulled the trigger, or was it your boss there?” she asked.
“He’s not my boss, I told you. He’s my partner.”
“Looks like he’s the one making the plans and talking
to the big bosses,” she said. “So I’m not sure what kind of partnership that is.”
“You don’t know anything,” he said, turning around to look at his partner. “And they prefer to deal with him.”
“Of course,” she said. “He’s probably the saner of the two of you. Probably the more businesslike.”
“Like hell,” he growled. “He just does better bitching with people like that.”
“Yeah, you just want to kill them, right?”
“No, not until I take their money,” he said, laughing.
“You killed any of the people who hired you?”
“No,” he said. “Why would I?”
“Right, there might not be return business, is that it?” she asked.
“Maybe,” he said. “You never can tell.”
“I’m surprised you’re even known to them at all.”
“They don’t know who we are,” he sneered. “You’d never do well in this business.”
“Of course not,” she said with a heavy sigh. “Why would I? I’m honest, loyal, and up-front. I try to avoid dealing with people who betray me.”
“Well, you must have sucked at that too because somebody sure as hell doesn’t want you alive.”
She thought about that for a long moment, then gave a clipped nod. “You’re right. I never spent time currying favor. I figured people would take me as I am and would realize who I was inside.”
“It doesn’t matter who you are inside,” he said. “Either you play the game or you get kicked off the track.”
“Interesting game you’re playing,” she said. “It sucks though. Because you never know when the track changes and when the game becomes something completely different.”
“Maybe,” he said, “but it sounds to me like you just did something wrong or wouldn’t play the game right, and so they’re removing you. That’s what this kind of stuff is always about. Either somebody is an obstacle to somebody else’s expansive growth or an obstacle to something they want.”
“Meaning, I’m an obstacle? As in, I’ve voted against something or have money that somebody else wants?”