by Robyn Nyx
Madison held her breath. She knelt down, took hold of his belt, and pulled him toward her. His arm fell on her lap, and blood stained her jeans. She pushed herself backward and gathered herself again before reaching for pocket five, not wanting to come in contact with the emptied contents of his intestines.
Her fingers wrapped around a credit card–sized plastic form. Please God. She slowly withdrew it, half expecting an American Express card. She wiped away the blood with her gloved hand. It looked exactly like the one Courts had used.
“Thank you, Blake,” she whispered quietly as she stood.
She peeled off the ridiculous purple gloves, tossed them to the floor, and headed for the emergency exit. Madison tentatively offered the key card to the electronic panel on the wall beside the door. Relief coursed through her when the tiny red LED turned green, and the magnetic click released the seal. She pushed the door open a few inches and peered out. Was Dawkes the last of the contractors? How many of Therese’s goons were dotted around this island? What if I run straight into them? She took a lungful of fresh air and exhaled slowly. What’s the alternative? Waiting for a horrible, painful, and torturous death at the hands of those two heinous bitches? She pushed the door open enough to slip through and closed it behind her. She slipped the key card into her pocket in case she needed it again. She took the knife out of her other pocket and opened it up. She’d never struck a person in anger before, let alone stabbed someone. But this was her life, and she was in danger. She needed to find somewhere safe and hunker down in the hope of a rescue. Elodie and Ice must be coming after me. Surely.
Chapter Thirty-one
Therese wasn’t a big fan of helicopters or of flying in general. It involved a lack of control she wasn’t comfortable with. When she bought this island, she’d quickly decided that she’d be getting there by boat whenever her presence was needed. The inconvenience of the Lucas couple ruined her plan to travel by boat today. She had to get to Madison Ford and find out what she’d done with the information Gillian had sent her. What Nat had found in Ford’s bag seemed identical to the package Reed had intercepted at the FBI, intel that could bury her and her whole operation if it got to the wrong people. She couldn’t let that happen. She wouldn’t let that happen. She’d spent years building this business, started at the bottom of the food chain and worked her way up. She wasn’t about to let some do-gooder, prize-winning journalist ruin her life’s work or her ambitions. Organ trafficking was more popular than ever. She’d chosen a less erratic business than drug dealing, and she was reaping the rewards of good business planning.
And a good business owner meets problems head-on. Therese didn’t care that she’d have to kill Ford, even though she knew she’d get the information she needed from her. It was always a shame to waste a pretty face, and Therese wasn’t completely comfortable with making this one disappear. Ford was a little too high profile. Nat had been careful tracking and kidnapping her, and Therese was confident there’d be no evidence to trace Madison back to her. Even if the cops did strike lucky, Nat would take the fall without hesitation. She would protect Therese at the expense of her own freedom, her own life, if necessary. She had a strong sense of loyalty, and she owed Therese. Nat took that vow as seriously as a Benedictine monk took their vow of silence.
Therese was still high on the Lucas kill, and that mellowed her discomfort with the flight some. She was horny too and thought about fucking Nat before they started with Ford. It was a shame Nat wasn’t there for the end of Lucas. He’d begged like a bitch. Before she’d begun, she’d credited him with a little more dignity, thought that he’d even be relieved and thankful to join his wife. It’s not like you spend $500k on someone you don’t really love. But he was selfish and stupid. He should have kept his mouth shut if he wanted to have any chance of living. It wasn’t like he knew that she’d kill him anyway. That wasn’t in the small print, but it was too risky to let anyone loose when a transaction went wrong. It didn’t happen all that often, but it was a necessary contingency.
Therese saw Nat waiting for her as the chopper began to land on the island. She also saw the unmistakable stain of death on the tarmac near the helipad. Blake had been a bit of an uncharacteristic gamble on Therese’s part. She’d taken a chance on her because she was exceptionally easy on the eye and extremely talented with her mouth. She was one of the girls Therese regularly revisited, which was probably one of the reasons Nat had been itching to take her out. Any less of a fuck-up than the possibility of a tracked phone, and Therese wouldn’t have been particularly happy with Nat’s decision to remove Blake from the payroll. From the look of the mess she left, Nat must have really enjoyed herself. Time for a quick fuck before we get to Ford.
*
Therese slammed Nat against the wall. She exhaled a satisfied growl as Nat’s eyes flooded with desire when her body made firm contact with the hard surface.
“You did good, baby,” Therese muttered between vicious bites of Nat’s neck and chest.
“I don’t ever want to let you down, T.”
Therese smiled against Nat’s chest and ran her hands over her body like she hadn’t been with her for months. She opened Nat’s belt and jeans and shoved her hand inside. She sighed deeply when she found Nat was wet and ready for her.
“Something got you all excited?” Therese punctuated her words with deep, hard thrusts. Her other hand wrapped around Nat’s throat and squeezed firmly.
“No. Just you.”
“Liar. Killing Blake made you this wet, didn’t it?” The silence answered Therese’s question. “You’re my number one, Nat. You don’t need to kill the competition.” Still, she did enjoy Nat’s jealousy sometimes. It was the nonsensical “loving” feelings that accompanied it she had no time for.
Nat dug her hands into Therese’s shoulders as she pushed her closer to orgasm. It never took Therese long to get her there when she was this ready for it, which was another good reason for Nat to be her regular plaything. She rarely had the patience for women who didn’t respond to her time schedule. If she wanted them to come in five minutes, that’s how it should be. If she had time for a good hour of slow, deep fucking, they needed to be able to come multiple times. It wasn’t rocket science. Some women were just ungrateful.
“Oh my God. Yes, harder, T, fuck me harder.”
She liked that Nat was so vocal too, so she obliged, forcing her fingers in and speeding her rhythm, until Nat contracted around her hand, threatening to crush her bones with the power of her orgasm. She bit hard into Nat’s neck and made her scream even louder, the mix of pleasure and pain musical.
Therese pulled out and nonchalantly wiped Nat’s juices on her jeans.
“Time to visit Ms. Ford. Where are you holding her?”
Nat fastened her jeans and belt as they walked. “In the downstairs operating theater with Dawkes. I had some special fun with him that meant I needed him over a drain.”
Therese raised her eyebrow and smiled. “What kind of special?”
Nat shook her head as she opened the doors to the stairs. “It’s a surprise. I didn’t get to finish properly before he died on me, though. I need to figure out a way to make them stay alive till I’m done.”
“You’ve been practicing your skinning, haven’t you?” Therese’s tone was teasing.
“I’m not saying. Wait and see.”
Nat flashed her key card and pushed the door open to proudly display her handiwork.
The chair was empty.
Dawkes was on the floor beside his flesh.
Madison Ford was nowhere to be seen.
Nat lurched into the room, frantically searching under tables and in cupboards. She turned to face Therese.
“What the fuck?” Therese sneered, baring her teeth. “Where the fuck is my journalist?” She moved closer to Nat, grabbed her by the throat, and swept her legs from under her. Her head hit the floor, inches away from Dawkes’s dead body. Therese dragged her closer and forced her face over the mound of huma
n flesh. “Have you really let her escape?” She pulled Nat up by the hair, away from the human remains.
“She won’t be far. I’ll find her. She can’t get off the island.”
“For your sake, you better hope not.”
Chapter Thirty-two
Madison needed her iPhone. As well as the obvious advantage of being able to call for help, she could really use the compass app right now. Emerging from the operating facility, every direction looked the same. She’d scrambled up the bank and could see the coast. It was a beautiful, bluebird-sky day, and she could see for miles. She thought she could just about make out the mainland, and she could see plenty of yachts and sailboats dotted on the ocean, tempting her to consider swimming. It was a relatively brief consideration. The Pacific was home to sixty different kinds of sharks, almost half of which were thought to have attacked humans. Death by shark wasn’t how Madison envisaged her end, but then, death at the hands of the sharks hunting her on this island wasn’t her ideal either. If that was her choice, maybe a swim in the ocean would be a quicker and less painful one.
Unless…she could find the “Lost Indian” cave to hide out in. That young girl, Juana Maria from the Native American Nicoleno tribe, survived this island for eighteen years. All Madison needed to do was lie low for…for what? Hours? Days? She had to believe Elodie and Ice were coming after her, and they’d ignored her petulant tantrum. And even though she’d specifically instructed…demanded that Elodie stay away from her and that Ice stop following her, she had to believe they’d ignored that too.
Madison wondered how many hired thugs Therese had on the island, though if she killed them every time a mistake was made, they’d be even fewer when Therese discovered Madison was missing. Would Elodie and Ice come alone or with a team? Did she even have a team? If they were coming, would they be a match for Therese and her vicious gang?
Geva had dragged her along to the Californian Islands Symposium in 2012 because she’d won their photo competition, and it was all over their promotional posters. Madison had sat through hours of lectures about this island and the others in the chain, and it had prompted her to read all about the Lone Woman. She never thought that particular knowledge would become handy. The island was about four miles wide, and she knew the cave was on the opposite side to the old Navy support area. That had to be her goal. She just needed to work her way across the scrub brush and cactuses and into the troughs and valleys that would keep her out of sight. And she had to be careful crossing the roads that ran like veins all over the island. As soon as they realized she was gone, those roads would be pretty busy.
She had to make a run for it, nonstop, for the first mile. Get herself away from the mainland and deep into the scrubland. She scanned the area and couldn’t see anyone. The helicopter had gone too, so she expected Therese was on her way. She looked down at her feet and plucked a sunflower from the arid ground. If this fucking flower and an eighteen-year-old kid can survive here, I’m damn sure I can. She stuffed the flower in her pocket and ran.
Running had never been Madison’s strong suit, but the threat of inevitable death seemed to provide her with extra motivation. She ran until her throat hurt from the hot, dry air, and her legs burned.
Then she ran some more.
She crossed the roads without detection and couldn’t see any kind of a hunt being rallied yet. It seemed that they were only making use of a small portion of the island, so thus far, she hadn’t seen another soul. When she finally paused for breath, she pulled off her thin cardigan and wrapped it around her head in an effort to prevent sunstroke. It was one of her very favorites, but she cut it to the right size anyway, hacking at it with her stolen pocketknife. Can you steal from a dead man? She screwed the rest of it up and concealed it under some thick scrub bush. Then, not wanting to leave any clues, however remote the possibility that it might be found, she quickly pulled it back out and used it as a scarf to keep the sun off her neck. The tutors at the Hostile Environment classes would be proud.
*
Madison reached the shifting sand dunes and the valleys beyond the minimal man-made encroachments on the island. Somewhere along here was Juana’s cave. As long as she could find it, and as long as they didn’t know their Native American history, she’d be safe for a while. And maybe, if she was discovered, if it was only one of them, maybe she could overpower them…or slow them down with her knife. She shuddered at the thought. She’d spent her life reporting on genocides, revolutions, the Arab Spring, countless lives wasted and destroyed by mindless violence. Yet, here she was, knife in hand, ready to…kill? Maim?
She climbed steadily down the dunes, jealous of the gulp of cormorants strutting the beach, able to come and go as they pleased. She headed right with nothing but a feeling that it might be the correct way. She looked back to make sure she was out of sight from the main mesa, pulled her makeshift scarf tightly around her neck, and continued with her search for the Nicolenos’ hideout. She didn’t know how much time she had left, but it sure didn’t feel like much.
Madison focused on moving forward. Her pulse was racing, and trekking through the sand was fatiguing beyond belief. She felt like her heart was pounding in her throat. Her mouth felt like cotton, and the bile from earlier continued to burn her throat. She kept halfway fit, but the heat and terrain were kicking her ass.
A hand clamped over her mouth, and an arm pulled her into a reverse bear hug. Madison tried to grab her knife from her pocket, but her arms were held tight to her body by a human straitjacket. She stamped her feet, trying to find those of her captor. There was a gentle laugh in her ear.
Chapter Thirty-three
“Stop stomping like a wild stallion, baby.”
Elodie? Ice came into her sight and she slumped against Elodie in obvious relief.
“When I let you go, keep very quiet,” Elodie whispered.
Elodie released her, and Madison spun around. “You came for me?” She enfolded Elodie in her arms.
“Of course we did. I’ll always go wherever I need to, to get to you.” Jesus, that was cheesy. Madison rewarded her with a shy smile.
“How did you get here?”
Ice held a finger to her lips. “Shh!”
Elodie took Madison by the shoulders and turned her to face the ocean. “See that yacht at twelve o’clock about three miles out? That’s mine. If you’re going to get kidnapped, there are definite advantages to being the girlfriend of a boat-owning actress.”
Madison smiled broadly, and Elodie’s heart ached at the sight. She was never more beautiful than when her face lit up with a smile like that.
“Where were you headed?” Ice asked.
“I was trying to find the Lone Indian’s cave.” Elodie and Ice exchanged a questioning look. “I haven’t got heat stroke, if that’s what you’re thinking. Don’t you know your Channel Island history?”
Elodie shook her head, enjoying the “schoolmarm” version of Madison, despite the serious danger she’d just been in. “Much as we’d love to discuss our rich Native American history with you, I’d rather we find a good spot to get you off the radar and to defend against the inevitable hunting pack. Ice, I’ll take Madison up front, and you protect our back.”
Elodie took Madison by the arm, and they continued on her previous trajectory. Ice stayed thirty or so paces behind them, scanning for trouble.
“How did you escape, baby?”
“I shanked three guards and stole a truck, but it ran out of gas a mile or so back.”
“Wow. Brains, beauty, and now brawn. You’re an amazing woman, Ms. Ford.”
Madison laughed. “Not really. I know captivity’s supposed to make you do crazy shit, but I’d only been there an hour or so. I got lucky with a key card.”
“Really? Novice kidnappers, then. Though that’s worked in our favor, especially with your phone.”
“The woman who made that mistake paid for it, I can tell you.”
Elodie saw the instant distress in Madison’s eyes.
“You’ve seen things you want to unsee?” Elodie wanted to reach into Madison’s mind and whitewash the ugliness.
“Like never before. I’ve seen death and the results of genocide, but witnessing that kind of brutality…” Madison shook her head like she was trying to shake away the memories. “It really rocks my belief in the basic goodness of people.”
“You can believe in me…if you want. I won’t let you down.”
Sadness flooded Madison’s eyes, along with her tears. “But what if I let you down?”
“You couldn’t possibly let me down, baby. Why would you think that?”
“Because I’m never enough. For anyone. I wasn’t enough for my father, and it’s been the same with everyone else. Eventually, I disappoint everyone.”
Elodie stopped and pulled Madison into her arms. Her unwillingness to explore their obvious connection now made sense. “Is this what you’ve been hiding? Why you’ve been holding back?” She felt Madison nod against her chest. “You’re perfect for me. Everyone else has been stupid and didn’t realize how special you are. They didn’t realize what they had. I do. And I want you.”
“Pick up the pace, ladies. Those valleys ahead look like a good spot.”
Ice’s instruction must’ve startled Madison. She went to move, lost her footing, and fell hard on some sandstone. Elodie heard something crack in Madison’s wrist as she put out her hands to prevent herself from falling flat on her face. She screamed despite the absolute necessity for silence. Elodie was by her side instantly, and she pushed the edge of her hand into Madison’s mouth.