“What? Cat got your tongue?” Cisco asked, then laughed at his own joke. He stepped closer and after a quick visual inspection of her tape bindings, he grinned and roughly pulled the sweat stained bandanna from her mouth. It tasted like an old sock dragged through the mud in a roadside ditch.
She sucked in a lungful of stagnant, moist air and couldn’t help but pull in the sour smell of perspiration. Cami coughed and looked away.
“I know it’s rough, chica, but as soon as you warm up to me, we’ll do something about that gag.”
Cami glared at him for a split second, then remembered herself and relaxed. She said nothing but watched him with what she hoped was a cool, indifferent expression on her face.
Cisco stared at her for a long moment until the lecherous smile on his face faded. He shrugged as if he’d told someone a joke they didn’t understand, then turned and busied himself with the collection of half-empty alcohol bottles on the shipping crate in the corner of the tent, next to the big sweat-stained four-poster bed.
Cami shuddered as she thought of what might be in store for her but remembered that they hadn’t had a chance to lay a hand on Amber. Her eyes followed the gouge marks in the dirt floor that the bed had made when it had been dragged into the tent—where they’d managed to get it from was anyone’s guess. She thanked God Amber had been spared such a fate.
She wondered, as she stared daggers at Cisco’s broad, muscled back, if anyone back in Bee’s Landing was coming to rescue her, as they had volunteered to bring her daughter back? Despite the pain from her swollen lips, her mouth curled at the corner. Marty was likely swearing a blue streak and demanding someone take action. She was playing out how that conversation would go down between Gary, Elizabeth, and Mitch when Cisco started talking again.
Cami narrowed her eyes and focused on her captor once more.
“...bein’ real stubborn, you know?” he asked, as he turned to look at her, a bottle of rum in one hand, and a filthy tumbler in the other. “I’d offer you some, but...well, you kinda took all the fun out of things for a while and got most of my men shot and all the trucks shot up, so...”
Cami refused to engage in conversation with him and remained silent.
Cisco shrugged one shoulder and poured the rum into his glass, deliberately avoiding looking at her. "You know, I told your friends you and I were gonna have a good time, and most people think it takes two to tango…" He put the bottle of rum on the crate again, and raised the glass at her briefly in a mocking salute before he took a long drink. "But I've been locked up for a long time," he said as he slowly licked his lips.
He swallowed, and the Gothic tattoo stenciled on either side of his Adam's apple that ran the length of his throat from his jaw down to his breastbone moved—the ink danced like a snake. "I don't think it's gonna matter if you're a willing participant or not."
Something about the way he presented the threat—and the pained look in his eyes—gave Cami pause. The corner of her mouth curled up again involuntarily. The anger raging inside her had found a release. "Looks like even in the Apocalypse, the only way you're ever going to find someone is to tie 'em up, huh?”
He backhanded her so fast, she barely saw the movement and was unable to even try to avoid the hit. One second she felt knuckles crunch into the side of her head, the next, she found herself on the dirt floor, and Cisco towered over her, his face a mask of rage.
"You like it rough, puta?” he bellowed. "I can be rough!"
Though her ears rang, and Cami's vision blurred to the point that she saw two sets of legs in front of her, she coughed, spat the dirt out of her mouth, and choked out a laugh. She wasn't about to give the cretin the satisfaction to know she was scared. In truth, she was more than terrified, but a strange sort of peace had settled over her. Amber—the real target—had escaped and was long since safe at home surrounded by friends. The knowledge that her daughter had been rescued from the clutches of the madman that towered over her allowed Cami to endure any level of pain and torment. It didn't matter—only Amber mattered, Amber and Reese.
The most intense longing and sadness Cami had ever experienced replaced the rage and anger for a few heartbeats. In that moment of realization, she fully expected never to leave Cisco's camp alive. That meant she'd never see Reese again, or her daughter.
"Yeah, that's more like it," Cisco crowed as he saw the change of expression on her face. "When I get through with you, you're gonna beg for more."
Cami spat defiantly at his feet, a glob of pink spittle that splattered against one dusty boot. "You don't scare me," she growled in a voice even she didn’t recognize.
"Is that right?" Cisco said in a mocking tone, but Cami caught the flash of fear in his eyes. That emboldened her, and she saw a second flash of fear when Cisco realized his mistake had given her even more courage.
"I've taken on grizzlies by myself in Alaska. You think I'm scared of…you?" She scoffed and struggled to watch him as he turned away from her. "You're the one who's afraid of me," Cami said and laughed, a short barking sound. "I'm half your size, and you've got me taped to a chair. What's that say about you?"
He threw the glass of rum against the ground and it shattered. She closed her eyes and tried to turn away but still felt pricks of pain as shards of the thick glass peppered her face.
Cisco snarled at her. "You think I'm afraid of you, puta?" Thick arms, roped by heavy muscles, reached out and hauled her roughly upright. "That tape ain't there because I'm afraid of you!" He hauled back and drove a sledgehammer of a fist into her stomach. All the air whooshed out of Cami's lungs and her eyes bulged in surprise as she tried to double over but couldn't because her arms were restrained behind the chair back.
"Think again, baby girl!” Cisco growled. He hit her with the other hand, an open-palm slap to the other side of the head that left rainbow stars across her vision and a ringing in her ears. "I'm gonna work you over like Rocky hittin' a piece of meat..."
Cami retreated inside herself. She thought of Reese, she thought of Amber. The jarring blows her body absorbed, one after another, reverberated as distant echoes inside her mind. A certain freedom came with the knowledge that her life was likely measured in hours. It didn't matter what Cisco did to her. She had no way of fighting back other than her wits, and the only way to keep those was to simply cut herself off from reality.
It was only when she realized he no longer struck her that Cami reluctantly crept back in full control of her body and nearly cried out despite her iron will, as a wave of pain assaulted every nerve. Wracked with pain and struggling to breathe, Cami let her spine relax and her head hung limp over her chest. Blood trickled from her nose over her split lips and made little star-shaped patterns against the dusty camo pants she wore. Somewhere nearby, she heard Cisco panting with the exertion of beating her half-senseless.
"The tape is just there to hold you…hold you still…" he panted.
Cami snorted, her nose clogged with blood, and hocked a glob onto the dusty floor. "Yeah, you're a big man, aren't you? Like beatin’ up women? You’re sooooo tough.”
"Shut up!" Cisco launched himself from where he stood by the stolen supplies at the side of the tent and wrapped two huge hands around her throat. Cami gasped as her windpipe failed to draw in any air. The momentum of his sudden assault toppled them both over, but he didn’t let go, and ended up straddling her and the chair as she lay in the dirt again[MP1]. She arched her back as fire erupted from both shoulders.
A strangled cry escaped her lips as her mind raced. If her shoulders both didn’t get dislocated, he was going to kill her—she knew it, as she knew the sun always rose in the east. It was a calculated certainty that offered her a cold sense of understanding. But a spark in the back of her mind refused to give in to his squeezing, vise-like hands.
Fight, it whispered to her with a fierceness she recognized in her own daughter.
Cami put all her remaining strength into forcing one word through her tortured throat. “Martyr.�
�
Cisco’s beady eyes blinked and the pressure on her neck slackened. He let go and her head dropped to the dirt. It took a few more agonizing seconds for the tissue in her throat to separate enough to allow air to whistle down into her lungs. She flopped over on her side to relieve the pain in her shoulders. It did, however, take her mind off the straps at her wrists.
“What did you say?” he growled, still towering over her, his hands balled into fists.
Cami coughed and blinked away the dark spots that floated in her vision like ghosts. She coughed again, worked her jaw, and croaked an answer: “Kill me, and turn me into a martyr.”
He blinked at her, then wiped the sweat from his knitted brow with bloody knuckles. “What are you talking about?”
Cami couldn’t help a lopsided grin at seeing her blood smeared on his forehead. Despite his physical superiority, he didn’t grasp concepts like martyrdom and would have likely sealed his own doom had he killed her. Cisco was a creature of emotion and reaction. She began to think of him like a grizzly not too far from the edge of starvation: ready to lash out at anything and think of the consequences later, but with the strength to make a counterattack dicey.
She stared at him for a long moment. A bullet to the brain box will work just as well…
Cisco’s face relaxed and the calm, calculating criminal resurfaced. “You sayin’ they’re coming after me, right? Your people?” He laughed, a sound that sent a new slip of fear into her heart.
“I don’t know if they are or not…” Cami wheezed, trying to raise her voice above a whisper. “But if they find out you killed me—“
Cisco laughed again. “Oh, baby girl, I want them to come to me. Thanks to you, I can’t go to them, can I?” His smile faded to a snarl, and he marched over to the tent flap and ripped it back, blasting Cami with sunlight. “You see that out there? All them shot up trucks? Your people did that! How we gonna get supplies now?”
Cami coughed again and kept her eyes screwed shut to stop the searing pain from the sudden sunlight. “You should have thought of that before you went robbing and killing people…”
“Everything was fine till you showed up!” Cisco complained.
Cami shivered under the weight of his anger and could do nothing else but respond in kind. “You…attacked…us!”
Cisco turned and picked up a rusted paring knife from the stack of supplies. “I don’t like my women to talk much. Maybe I’ll fix that right now…give me a chance to think in peace…”
Cami doubled down on her chosen course of action. Begging and pleading was exactly what the psychopath hovering over her wanted. She refused to give in. “Do it and seal your own fate. They’ll cut you to pieces when they find you.” She smiled at him and tried to project a confidence she didn’t feel.
The plan worked. Cisco halted, halfway to her, the knife in his hand. His jaw worked, and she watched the muscles of his neck move as he chewed through his frustration.
The light streaming in through the open tent flap dimmed as someone appeared in the entrance. “Hey, boss—we got a problem.”
Cisco glared at Cami another second, then turned. “What?” he snarled. Cami couldn’t be sure, but he seemed grateful for the distraction.
“Half the crew out there ain’t had any chow since yesterday and we’re almost out.” He looked down at Cami and a flash of recognition in his eyes made him stutter before he collected himself and gestured out at the ruined vehicles. “The uh…two new guys are saying they’re going to eat first—“
“The hell they will,” Cisco said in a low, rumbling voice. He flicked the paring knife around to a reverse grip and started for the tent flap, murder in his eyes. He paused as the messenger hastily stepped aside. “Keep an eye on this puta. She tries anything, cut her tongue out. If you hurt her, I’ll cut your tongue out. Feed it to the gringos who think they run this place…”
Cami watched the messenger watch Cisco as he stormed off into the parking lot, cursing and hollering. She could see more men than she would’ve preferred come to him as he made his way deeper into the camp.
She coughed and decided to try to play the innocent victim. “Can you help me up?”
When the cold, hard eyes of the messenger turned on her, she knew he wouldn’t lift a finger to help her. Sweat trickled down her shoulder blades as she lay on her side in the dirt, bound to the chair. The man before her licked his lips.
He glanced out the tent, then back at her, considering his options. “Hmmmm…” he murmured to himself.
Cami frowned at him. If it worked on Cisco…
The man rubbed his lower lip with the spine of the knife Cisco’d given him. Her frown had no result except to bring on a lecherous smile on his skeletal face. “Mmmm….”
Cami shifted tactics. “Hurt me and Cisco won’t be happy.”
That got the intended reaction. A shiver went down Cami’s spine at the look of abject fear that crossed the man’s face. He blinked, as if coming back to himself from a daydream, then glanced out of the tent again. He looked quickly at her, then ducked outside without another word.
Alone in the tent again, Cami closed her eyes and sighed. She tried to focus her thoughts and keep her mind from dwelling on the pain in her back, shoulders, ankles, and wrists.
She prayed. Not for salvation, but to die a good death. Cami Lavelle prayed for a swift, merciful death. She was deep in the lion’s den and had no hope of escape—so she prayed that the people back in Bee’s Landing stayed put to protect themselves, and Amber. As long as her daughter remained safe, Cami could maintain her courage.
A small flickering thought emerged in the dark corner of her mind: what if Amber convinced the others to mount a rescue mission of her own?
Cami scrunched her face against the pain and aligned her thoughts on one word: No…
Chapter 3
Lavelle Homestead
Bee’s Landing Subdivision
Northwest of Charleston, South Carolina
Darien Flynt frowned when Amber stared into the darkening woods at the back end of the Lavelle Homestead. He'd seen that same look on Cami's face earlier in the day, just before she'd announced the rescue mission to get her daughter back.
"That animal has my mom,” the girl said. “I’m going to get her back." She turned and looked over the silenced gathering of people on the deck behind the house, neighbors, volunteers, and some of the remaining men from Darien's crew. "Who's coming with me?"
Darien didn't fail to notice that she said her piece while her hand rested on the handle of a Glock strapped to her side. He put down the little radio that Cisco had used—it suddenly felt far too heavy to hold, especially after hearing what Cisco had promised to give Cami. "Hang on a second," he said, as he raised one weary arm to stop her from storming off the deck. "We can't just run off half-cocked…"
"Why not? I appreciate more than you can know what you did for me,” Amber said, frowning. “But this is exactly what my mom did—”
“With all due respect, it's not," Darien countered as he struggled to get to his feet with Harriet's help. The short time he'd been stretched out on the deck, recuperating from the all-day rescue mission, fighting at the creek, and running through the woods, had left his muscles sore and painfully tight. "Your mom didn't go charging off into the woods with us following her, we sat down and took our time to plan out what we were going to do."
Next to him, John Douglass got to his feet, rather less gracefully than he would've liked, judging by the expression on his face. "I'm with you, Amber," he said with a pointed look at Darien.
"Me too," said the man Darien only knew as Gary. He was Cami's close friend and lieutenant and had been left in charge of the homestead while she went to rescue Amber. Darien saw that his voice carried weight—several others on the deck, people he didn't know from the neighborhood, looked at each other and nodded in agreement.
"Everybody, I'm telling you, we can't just rush off into the woods," Darien tried again. "Cisco is too
smart for that, he'll be ready for us—especially after the thumping we gave him earlier today! We don't have enough people to risk—”
"What’s this 'we' stuff?" Gary demanded, stepping through the small crowd to stand next to Amber. "You've only been here for a week—Cami's one of us. We'll decide what to do about her."
Several mumbled agreements came from behind him and faces hardened, but not all of them.
"I know I'm an outsider,” Darien said, switching tactics, “I know you guys don't trust me—I hoped that putting myself in harm's way to rescue Amber earlier today would've gone a little ways toward making you realize I can be trusted —"
Amber took a step forward and her face softened. "Nobody’s suggesting that what you did earlier today wasn't worthy. I've already said thank you from the bottom of my heart, but—"
Darien scowled. "Yeah, yeah, I know...it's different, it's my mom, it's Cami." Darien put his hands on his hips, partly out of frustration and partly because his arms had begun to tremble. "That's not my point. Cisco doesn't care about any of that. He doesn't care about you, he doesn't care about me—”
"Sounds like he cares an awful lot about you," Gary said, gesturing at the radio on the deck.
"I assure you, it's not in a good way," Darien snapped. He addressed the rest of the crowd and looked past Gary. "Everyone, please. I'm not suggesting we don't rescue Cami, I'm all in on that—without her support, me and my crew wouldn't have made it when we reached this neighborhood. I think I've proven myself by going after Amber. I'm more than willing to do it again to bring Cami back, but we have to—”
The back door opened and Mia, the mousy little round-faced woman who'd been staying at Lavelle's house with her kids, emerged onto the deck. He recognized her from the neighborhood party. The argument stopped at the creak of the back door, and all heads turned to face her. She blanched under the scrutiny, then swallowed, visibly preparing herself to speak.
Broken Tide | Book 5 | Storm Surge Page 2