by Abby James
“What gave you that idea?”
“You’re not?” I hadn’t expected that. “You were redistributed?”
“Redistributed? What’s that supposed to mean?”
How could he not know? Oh, my god…unless he wasn’t from Turmenian. But that was impossible. Movement between the territories was forbidden, unless for trade, but merchants followed stringent guidelines of commerce and their movements within Turmenian were tightly monitored and regulated. Then again, maybe Myles told me that all wrong.
“Where are you from?”
“Now that would be giving the game away. And I may just lose my bounty.”
“What does it matter if I’m not around to let slip how chatty you were?”
He eyed me in the rearview mirror. “Are you flirting with me?”
I all but gagged.
“I got to tell you. All this friendly chat is giving me a hard-on. You don’t want me to have a hard-on, love, or I may force you to come in the front next to me and take care of it.”
I sat back, leaning against my arms, and stared out the window. If I took care of your hard-on, it would involve a lot of teeth.
I got this crazy idea of sliding my tied hands under my ass and stepping through them to bring them to the front, but unfortunately my arms weren’t long enough. And attempting the feat while trying not to move so much, in case he looked in the mirror, proved beyond me. I also ended up with a shooting cramp down the inner side of my left arm.
My other option was to turn to the side and hook my arms over his head and yank backward. It was a crazy idea. No, not crazy, stupid. He’d likely crash the car. My head sunk to my chest and I heaved a defeated sigh. Maya would be smart enough to get herself out of this mess.
With my head down, I spied something poking out from under the seat. I nudged it with my foot a couple of times to edge it farther out. The red color, backdropped against the dark carpet, was the only reason I saw it. I couldn’t tell what it was, but it felt solid. After a fair amount of maneuvering with my feet, I managed to lean it against the seat in an upright position. If I were to guess at what it was, I would say it was a portable fire extinguisher.
I inched forward, breath held, while sliding to the side as I went, eyes fixed on the rearview mirror in case Jacklas felt movement and became suspicious. I’d turned enough to catch the top of the extinguisher with my fingers, then slowly dragged it with me as I turned around and slid back into my seat. If I did this and succeeded, we would crash and I would likely die. If I didn’t, I was dead, but at his hand. I wasn’t going to give the jerk that satisfaction.
I knew what I had to do. But to succeed, I had to be quick, or he would see it coming and dodge out of the way. God knows what he would do to me if I failed. But I either attempted or I sat here and allowed him to do what he wanted with me. Better to try, even if it triggered his fury, then remain a passive victim.
I gave myself a few breaths, running through the scenario in my head. All I required was sped. But if I missed… I closed my eyes. Just do it. One more breath and I inched forward. The closer I got to the edge of my seat, the faster my pulse sped. I swiveled around so I faced the side. It would hamper my swing and reduce my power to throw, but the extinguisher felt heavy enough to do some damage if it knocked someone in the side of the head regardless of how fast it was traveling.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Concentrating as hard as I’d been on moving with stealth, I jumped when he spoke, underlining my guilt. “I want to see behind.”
“How ’bout you slide back on your seat, little lady, and face the front, or I may think you’re up to something.”
I had to do it. I jerked farther around, then, with an awkward swing, threw the bottle at his head. Not that I could see exactly where it was going, nor could I aim it right.
“Holy shit,” was all he managed to say as the bottle grazed past him. Dammit, I missed.
Missed his head, yes, but the extinguisher hit his hand as it smashed into the steering wheel. I was thrown against the door as the car lurched sideways. With one hand, Jacklas tried to correct but overcompensated. We ended up squealing the tires as we fishtailed across the road. Unable to grab my seat belt, I ducked low, wedging myself between the two seats in case he was unable to pull the car out of its erratic swings.
Seconds later I slammed up against his seat as the sound of crunching metal and smashing glass filled my ears. The quiet that followed triggered me to move, but my head spun in circles, and I couldn’t work out which way I should turn to get out of my cocoon. My legs were bunched almost to my chin, and I tried to straighten them but something blocked me. With tied hands, I felt useless, trapped.
Was that smoke I smelt? I shook my head gently, wanting to clear the fuzz. The dizziness weighed me down, slowed my actions.
“Jacklas.” Was he still alive?
I definitely smelt smoke. I arched my head back. “Jacklas.” And saw the glow of the fire lighting up the night.
Jesus. I pushed back against his seat, but it gave me no extra room. By now parts of my body hurt, my left shoulder, which must’ve bore the brunt of my impact with the seat. Wet trickled down my neck from the left side of my head, tickling my skin.
The air was warming up behind me.
“Jacklas.” Hearing the fear in my voice, I struggled to free myself again, but I didn’t have enough room or strength to make it a decent fight. I gasped short, shallow breaths as my wriggling became manic. How could I escape from my kidnapper only to die in a car fire? I didn’t even have the fire extinguisher anymore. But if I could get it, which I could try if I wasn’t trapped behind this seat…
The smoke thickened the air in the car. I banged my back against the seat behind me and shrieked my frustration. Why couldn’t I do this? Unless the impact had compressed the front seat backward. Tears blurred my vision. But I was not going to die like this. I wouldn’t.
A loud crack came from the side of the car and cool air rushed in. Before I had a chance to look, rough hands grabbed my around the waist and yanked me from my coffin and out of the open space where the car door used to be. Once he flung me over his shoulder, he jogged away, pounding my stomach into his shoulder bone as he ran. I lifted my head enough to see the flames eating the front of the crushed car. Someone ran beside us, more than one someone if the sounds of heavy footfalls were any indication.
We made it to the tree line when the car exploded. The guy carrying me flung himself behind a broad trunk, shielding us from the sudden heat and any flying debris. The instantaneous boom died as fast, leaving the roar of the fire as it sucked in air while consuming what was left of the car.
“Can you stand?” he asked as he lowered me to the ground.
It was Sargon’s voice.
“What’re you doing here?” Tears bunched in the corners of my eyes.
“Rescuing you.”
Ryker came up to stand beside Sargon. “See, I said you’d be trouble.”
Behind me, Chett wrestled with the rope. Once freed, my muscles ached as I brought my arms around to the front. I shook the tension out and I stared up at Sargon, whose face was flushed in the glow from the fire, softening the hard edges. My arms itched to hug him, all of them, for being here. Instead I remained motionless. After how we’d departed, would my hug be welcome? “Thank you.” Thank you was pitiful for the way I felt, but the impenetrable wall that was Sargon pricked my confidence about giving any more than the lame platitude.
“Is that it?” Picard came up beside me. “We rescue you from a burning car and that’s all you give us?” He swept me into a bear hug. I bit back a moan from the shoulder pain and melded into his arms, returning the hug. Softened by his embrace, the tears crammed over and rolled down my cheeks. I was crying in his arms yet again.
“Okay, break it up.” Ryker separated the two of us. “It’s my turn.”
Before he could sweep me up, Sargon intervened, stepping in front of him. “Do you feel all righ
t?”
“Yes.” I resisted wiping the remaining tears. Hopefully he wouldn’t see my tears in the fire light. “My shoulder hurts, but I can move my arms all right. My head hurts too, but I’m still conscious.”
“You need to be examined properly. Are you all right to walk? Our car’s not far away.”
“Yes.”
He nodded. “Let’s get back.”
“Are we going to the Arena?”
“You need medical attention first. Then it’s back to Miss Tule.”
“You took Picard to the Arena when he was near death, and yet you’re taking me to a medical facility when there’s nothing wrong with me.”
Sargon shared a look with the others. I tried my hardest to decipher what it meant, but came up blank since I didn’t know him well enough, nor the secrets they shared. But very soon I would find out, whether they told me or not.
Ryker came and slung an arm over my shoulder as he walked forward, forcing me to walk with him. “Just as I said. Trouble.”
Chapter 29
I waited for the doctor, sitting up with my legs slung over the bed, separated from the rest of the patients in emergency by a fabric partition. The staff frowned at the four guys when we first arrived, shaking their heads at the thought of so many people taking up valuable space, but probably felt they couldn’t kick the commander-in-chief out. Sargon seemed to sense the apprehension, for he decided they would stay in the waiting room. All except Picard. Perhaps he felt we had things that needing saying. I wasn’t sure about Picard, but I sure as hell had a lot I wanted to say to him, or should I say, ask him. Out of the four, I felt the most comfortable with him, which made him my prime target for a verbal shakedown.
While Picard disappeared to find me a water, I swung my legs and stared at the curtain. On the other side, a doctor prodded a woman’s stomach, asking her if it hurt worse when he touched here rather than there. My head had cleared, which left the pain in my shoulder and the cut on the back of my head, now caked with dry blood. I smelt sweaty and my eyes stung. With all the action over, my energy ebbed. The bed was looking like a good option, but with the bright lights and all the commotion around me, sleep was not going to happen fast.
Picard parted the curtain, carrying a frosted glass of water. On seeing it, my mouth suddenly felt dry.
“One of the nurses was kind enough to lend me a glass.”
I bet she was, probably with a heavy dose of eyelash batting as well. I skulled half the glass before I bothered to speak. “I didn’t realize I was so thirsty.”
Picard slid onto the bed next to me. “We’re keen to hear what happened, but Sargon’s instructed me no questions until you’re given the all clear.”
“I feel fine, really. Sore in a few places, but that’s all. Wedging myself behind the seat saved me.”
“That was a smart move.”
“He wasn’t from here. I don’t think even from Turmenian.”
“We’re not supposed to talk about that.”
“But you’re dying to know.”
He leveled his eyes at me. “You’ll get me in trouble.”
“You once told me you like to bend the rules.”
He was about to say something, but swallowed it at the last. Yeah and look where that got me was his likely response. I shouldn’t make him relive that nightmare.
He took the bait. “You sure?”
“He had no idea about population redistribution. And he was being paid a lot of money to get rid of me.”
He shook his head. “We’re not supposed to be talking about this.”
“You’re not, but Sargon’s your boss, not mine. I can say what I want. He had a wolf with him. Much like the one that attacked you.”
That pricked Picard’s ears.
“He placed me in some dungeons, much like the Arena, and arrived with a wolf when he came back to get me. But it wasn’t his. He was trained to handle it using some sort of metal device.”
Picard stared ahead, shaking his head as he listened to what I had to say. I looked at his profile, his clear skin, unmarred.
“If we’re not going to talk about my kidnapping, then I want to ask you something, and I hope you’re willing to answer me.”
That drew his attention back to me. “Of course. What is it?”
“What happened to you?”
In the ticks of silence, he no doubt fabricated some lie. “I was made whole again.”
“Just like that?”
“Weird, huh?”
“That sort of thing can’t happen. Not to normal people.”
Picard flashed me a grin, but there was nothing solid behind it. After a few seconds of trying to reassure me, and looking awkward for the attempt, he stood and poked his head out from the curtain partition. “This doctor ought to be around soon.”
“Why, do you want to leave?”
“Don’t be silly.” He came back over to me but sat in the chair rather than on the bed close to me.
“Do you remember that you kissed me?” Or did I kiss him? “God, sorry.” I looked at the floor. “I shouldn’t have brought that up. Everything seemed to point back to the other night. And I was rambling, hoping to puncture the invisible wall now erected between us.
Picard took my hand. “Did you really think I would forget that?”
“You seem different now. Not the same man as the one who disobeyed Chett to show me the view.” Again not something I should’ve said. He disobeyed Chett and look what happened.
“I’m still the same man. Nothing’s changed.”
“Hasn’t it?”
Picard sat back with a sigh. “What do you want me to say?”
“The truth. I know you’re hiding something from me. And I know there is no way you could be sitting here looking so healthy after what I saw.”
Picard slid forward to the edge of the plastic chair, arms hung loose between his thighs. “I should never have disobeyed Chett. I’m just grateful it was me and not you that was hurt. And now it’s time for me to follow orders, which means I can’t say any more.”
“That’s convenient.”
“Nothing bad has happened to me, Malachi. In fact, it’s better than I could’ve wished for. And one day, hopefully, you will understand.”
Picard’s eyes moved over my head. I turned to see Sargon and the other two pulling back the curtain. Beside them was a doctor.
“Miss Lefreve, it sounds like you’ve had quite an adventure.” The doctor gave me a quick look before concentrating on the notes he carried with him. He carried out some simple observations with minimal talk and fuss, nodding his head while he did so. I stifled a complaint when he manipulated my shoulder, but he seemed satisfied it was working as it should. Once done, he scribbled some more in his notes. “You seem healthy enough. No sighs of concussion. We’ll need some X-rays of your shoulder just to make sure there’s no serious damage, but your range of movement is promising. Given it was a car accident and the bump on your head, we’ll keep you in for observation.” He nodded to Sargon, then slipped through the curtain.
“You better get comfortable, my little lady,” Picard said as he stood.
“Miss Tule will be here to take you home,” Sargon said.
“Don’t you want to hear what I have to tell you about my kidnapper?”
“He’s dead, so he’s no longer a threat, which means the conversation can wait,” Sargon said.
Picard joined the other three at the end of my bed. I glanced at each of them, seeing a unity that went beyond military rank. I couldn’t explain why I thought that, but for some reason, I knew these four were tethered to each other by a secret that bound them tighter than blood. I wanted to ask if I would see them again, but didn’t want to sound weak.
“Miss Tule has some specific training she would like you to focus on, but once she’s finished, you will resume your training at the Arena.” It was as if Sargon had read my mind. I bit my bottom lip to stop the stupid grin, which would make me look like a child.
/> Sargon left first, with Chett on his tail. Ryker patted my leg as he departed and Picard gave me a wink. I was left staring at the wavering curtain, making my plans.
This was not going to happen again. Whoever hired Jacklas would do it again and again until they had what they wanted, me dead. I would not be cowered by this, nor would I hide away in fear. I would become Miss Tule’s star pupil. I would become what she wanted me to be, her weapon. With the extra lessons at the Arena, no one would be able to do this to me again. And once I uncovered who’d paid for my death, then I could uncover what it was the four did not want me to know.
You’ve reached the end of the book but not the end of the series. Stayed tuned for Poisonous Lies
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Author’s Note
What is going on with Sargon, Chett and Ryker?
And now Picard has been pulled into their secret. Has he been saved or delivered to damnation?
Malachi must unravel the past if she is to discover the future and the dark secret locked within the Arena, and slowly turning the four into something deadly.
Follow Malachi’s struggles in Poisonous Lies coming end of Feb
Poisonous Lies
About the Author
Abby James is an incurable romantic and a great adventurer.
Her list of loves is long. At the top is writing great romances, alongside reading great romances.