The Sarah Roberts Series Vol. 4-6

by Jonas Saul

  Sarah struggled, rolled onto her back and fought to break loose, but the ropes were just too tight.

  Maxwell laughed, his dreadlocks bouncing.

  Then he fired his weapon again and again, Russell’s body jolting as each bullet formed red dots on his chest. When the gun clicked on empty, Maxwell stopped and tossed the weapon away.

  Russell’s head dropped, his chin resting on his chest. He didn’t move again.

  One more guffaw from Maxwell and then he clicked his heels twice, pivoted and walked to the gun. After picking it up with a white cloth he produced from another pocket, he wiped it free of his prints and then stepped closer to Sarah and knelt down beside her. He pulled her fingers back and placed the gun into the palm of her hand, forcing her fingers around the handle.

  “There, that should do it. When they find Russell’s body, they will also find this lovely weapon with all the evidence they’ll need to see you killed Russell Anderson.”

  “Too set up,” Sarah said, working hard to control her voice.

  “What did you say?”

  “It’s too set up. Any first-grade cop will see what happened here. Are you that fucking stupid?”

  “Cuss at me, get me going. I understand your methods. But don’t worry. I’m not going to kill you. At least not right away. Someone else is coming to do that for me. She just had to dispose of your nice motorcycle first.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “My lovely girlfriend. I’m sure you’ll find her quite exciting.”

  “I’m sure I will.” Sarah had given up hope of freeing herself. The ropes were just too tight.

  A door slammed somewhere in the warehouse.

  “Ahh, there she is now.”

  Maxwell walked to the side and looked down the row.

  “Everything work out?” he asked someone out of Sarah’s line of sight. There was a mumbled response.

  He stepped aside and made way for a young woman to enter. She was pretty, with a rugged face and a strong, athletic body. Something about her was familiar.

  Then it came to her. The steak house that morning. As she walked out to catch a cab, this woman had stared at her.

  “You set the cab drivers on us,” Sarah said.

  The woman turned to Maxwell. “She’s good.” Then she looked back at Sarah. “Untie her.”

  Maxwell moved toward Sarah. “It’s your show, hun.”

  “So what, she calls the shots?” Sarah asked.

  “That lip of yours,” the woman said, “I’m going to knock it right the fuck off.”

  Maxwell was already loosening the binds on her wrists.

  “You can try. Others have, but no one has succeeded yet.”

  “Today is the day you will learn to play in your own backyard. Coming to Vegas was a huge mistake for you.”

  “Somehow, I don’t think so.”

  Maxwell went to work on her ankles. Seconds later, she was completely untied. Maxwell moved away from her fast.

  Smart.

  “Come on, bitch,” the woman said. “Show me what you got.”

  Sarah was done with the big talk. Showing off and bravado wouldn’t win this fight. Raw anger and quick thinking would. The woman in front of her looked strong and able to handle herself. Maxwell wouldn’t let her loose on Sarah if he wasn’t fairly confident she could manage the situation.

  Whether Russell was her cousin or not, he had a big heart and he had saved her from danger a couple of times since she had been in Vegas. She owed him a lot and would never get to repay him now. These two people would have to be held accountable for their crimes. She couldn’t let Russell die for nothing. This was her chance to pay them back.

  The woman moved in, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Sarah feinted left but then hopped to the right and swung hard at the woman’s face. So hard that when her fist met with empty air, she swung around in a full circle. For a brief second, her back was to the woman. She expected a fist in the kidneys or a foot in the small of her back, but nothing came.

  “That all you got?” the woman asked.

  Sarah drove herself forward, head low. With almost no time to react, the woman folded into Sarah’s shoulder as she connected. Sarah’s feet came off the ground and lifted above her head. Then the sensation of falling. At the last second, she got her hands in front of her and broke the fall, her right shoulder taking the weight.

  The woman had absorbed the blow in her abdomen as she brought her hands around to Sarah’s midsection and bent at the waist. Then she had lifted Sarah up and dropped her on her head.

  Pain flared in Sarah’s head and neck. She saw stars for a moment and had to shake her head to clear them.

  A shadow covered her vision.

  Sarah jerked her head back and out of the way as the woman’s boot slammed on the floor an inch from Sarah’s nose.

  Holy shit, that was close.

  She wished Aaron Stevens would walk in right now. He would know how to deal with a fighter like this woman.

  Sarah rolled twice and then jumped up to her feet.

  The second she did, she dove sideways as the woman was already in the air, her foot extended in some kind of kickboxing move.

  Street fighting can be very effective, but scrapping with a professional fighter, trained in the moves and countermoves of a martial artist or kickboxer, street fighting was lazy and sloppy.

  When the woman landed, she turned and jumped again. Sarah felt she had to constantly move and let this woman land wherever she may be headed.

  But this time, Sarah didn’t move. As the woman came down, her foot pointed at Sarah’s face, Sarah dodged left just enough for the boot to pass without hitting its target. She swung her elbow up and in a semicircle toward the woman’s face.

  Even though it was a fast move and unexpected, the woman somehow saw it coming. Her open palm wrapped around Sarah’s elbow and allowed its forward momentum. She spun into Sarah in some kind of judo move, clamped onto Sarah arm just below the shoulder, and then lifted upwards. Less than a second later, Sarah was airborne, flying over the woman’s back as she flipped her.

  The wind was knocked out of her as she landed hard.

  Maxwell clapped and shouted on the side.

  Sarah knew she was outmatched. She also knew that if she survived this, martial arts lessons were in her near future.

  She struggled to catch a breath for a moment while keeping her eyes on the woman. Maxwell and his girlfriend embraced and kissed.

  “Well done, Amanda,” Maxwell said. “I love to watch you fight.” He looked down at Sarah. “You didn’t even get one hit in. Pathetic.”

  She was breathing easier. Should she roll away, get to her feet and run? Staying and fighting with Amanda, the machine, would only get her killed. The gun was emptied into Russell. Did they have any other weapons?

  “Now for the fun part,” Maxwell said.

  Sarah made to get up, but Amanda pounced. She straddled Sarah and locked her arms down. With a swiftness that her eyes couldn’t register, Amanda drove her fists into Sarah stomach at least five times. Then she landed one left and one right punch across each of Sarah’s cheeks, opening the wound on Sarah’s face.

  Pain flared up from the injured cheek. Blood covered Amanda’s bare fists.

  “Are you done?” Sarah asked through a mouth filling with blood. This was the first time in her life that she was convinced that she couldn’t beat the person she was fighting.

  “Not yet, little bitch,” Amanda said.

  Sarah’s eyes watered. She tried to blink it away. Being this helpless was maddening. She had fought bigger, stronger men and walked away. How could this woman be so fast?

  Maxwell walked around her head. He was up to something. This would be her last chance. It was now or never.

  Sarah yanked hard and got her right arm loose. She reached up and grabbed the woman’s throat. Before she could squeeze or push in on the trachea, Amanda’s rock hard fist came down on Sarah’s nose and broke it in one punch.


  Blood shot out of her face. Her eyes watered and the pain hit extreme levels. It was the first time her nose had been broken. She moaned loud and hard, willing the pain to stop.

  There was almost no way to see her attacker now as her eyes filled against her will.

  She had to get past this and fight, or she wouldn’t walk out of this warehouse.

  Instead of holding her nose, she moved her hands to her eyes, wiped them and stared up at Amanda who had started to climb off.

  “She’s ready now,” Amanda said. “There’s not much fight left in this one.”

  “Perfect,” Maxwell said.

  Sarah wiped at her eyes again.

  Maxwell moved in and got down on one knee. Something jabbed her above the left knee. It felt like a large bee sting. She screamed out and lifted her head to look.

  The handle of the silver fork stuck out of her leg, the prongs submerged in her skin.

  She screamed again. “What the fuck!”

  “I asked if you had ever jabbed anyone with a fork.”

  Sarah reached for it, but he slapped her hand away.

  “I’ve always wanted to see if I could kill someone with just a fork. Next, I will jab you a couple times in the stomach, the chest and head and finally, I will embed the fork in your heart. Isn’t that great news? All this pain will be over in a few minutes.”

  Sarah screamed and reached for the fork again, this time anticipating his hand. She grabbed the handle and tried to pull it out but the pain stopped her as she reared her head back and let out a wail.

  Then the fork was ripped from her flesh in a violent pull.

  She rubbed her eyes, opened them and saw Maxwell above her. His smile was demonic. He moved Sarah’s shirt up exposing her stomach and bra. Amanda came to stand behind her and grabbed her arms, wrenching them back. All Sarah had left to defend herself were her legs, but to move her left one was torture.

  Why hadn’t Vivian warned her? Could she get to her gun? Was there a way out of this that she couldn’t see yet?

  Maxwell rubbed his hand along her naked stomach and then up onto her breast. He squeezed.

  Sarah thought she would vomit in his face and that was what would win this battle.

  The bloody fork rose up in his hand.

  “Now to impale such a pretty stomach. Such a pity you have to die. I could use you on the streets for a while. That is after Amanda and I played with you first. But not now. You have to die, Sarah Roberts. You’re too much trouble. Goodbye.”

  He grunted as he swung his arm down hard.

  A gun fired somewhere in the warehouse.

  Blood splattered across her face and covered her vision. The fork missed its mark, jamming harmlessly into the floor beside her. Then the wind was knocked from her again as a weight slammed onto her.

  Her hands were released. Amanda screamed. Sarah squeezed her eyes shut as she pushed against the body on her, trying to move out from under it as she breathed through her nose. She couldn’t believe how watery her eyes were.

  The gun fired again.

  Whoever was firing wasn’t aiming at Sarah. Amanda yelled from farther away now. She opened her eyes enough to see Maxwell on her. He was heavy but she managed to get out from under him. Walking would be difficult with the leg wound, but she had to find a way to get to her gun a few aisles over.

  Whoever was out there couldn’t possibly be a friend of hers. It couldn’t be the police because Maxwell’s guards didn’t warn him. Maybe one of his guards was seeking revenge for something.

  Whatever the reason, all that mattered now was her gun.

  She rubbed her eyes with her shirt and tilted her head back to stanch the blood flow from her ruined nose.

  Maxwell’s shooter was chasing Amanda through the warehouse. Sarah dragged herself a few feet until she could reach the racks that held the rolls of fabric.

  She pulled herself up to a sitting position. Then, with her good leg under her, she got onto her feet. Blood oozed from her leg wound, but thankfully, it wasn’t much.

  The gun fired again, followed by a short yelp. It sounded like Amanda got hit.

  That meant the shooter would be coming after Sarah now.

  With the rack in her grip for balance, she hopped to the side. As fast as she could without falling, she hopped up to the aisle where her gun was stashed.

  Someone was coming. Footsteps resounded through the quiet warehouse. It was either Amanda or the shooter. Whoever it was, she would need her gun.

  She hopped along the aisle as fast as her good leg would take her.

  The two rolls where she stashed the weapon appeared to be untouched.

  The footsteps drew closer.

  She reached inside and felt around for her gun.

  It wasn’t there.

  She was sure this was the spot. Digging deeper produced nothing. Her hands came up empty.

  “Looking for this?” a man said behind her.

  She froze. Blood trickled from her nostrils as she waited for the bullet. When none came, she kept her hands visible and turned around.

  Russell Anderson stood at the end of the aisle holding her gun by the barrel.

  “Here, take it,” he said. He stumbled into the rack and dropped to his knees. His shoulders heaved as he sobbed. The gun slipped from his grasp and slid to a stop along the floor.

  Sarah hobbled to his side.

  “I thought you were dead. What the hell is going on?”

  “Vest.” He coughed and scrunched up his face.

  “Vest?” She was surprised at how nasal her voice sounded. “You’re wearing a vest?”

  “Damn does that hurt.” He dropped his head and closed his eyes. “I’ve never been shot before. My daughter told me to take those ketchup packets from the steak house that morning when we had breakfast. Then I taped them to the Kevlar vest here.” He wiped the tears off his cheeks and opened his hoodie at the front. “She said I would be shot and that if I didn’t do this,” he stopped and met Sarah’s eyes, “that you would die today. I couldn’t let that happen. I can’t let family die. Never again. That’s why when I first saw you, I cried when I asked you to not send the text. I already knew that you would die if I didn’t get shot. I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to come through for you. Then your death would be on my head.”

  Sarah stepped away and used the rack for support. “I guess I should say thanks for getting shot. Looks like you saved both of us. How did you get out?”

  “They weren’t securing me. It only looked that way. When Maxwell came in yesterday and saw me like that, he decided to leave me alone until he captured you and brought you here. Then you walked in on your own. Penny told me where you hid your gun.”

  “I’m not your family. We’re not cousins. Abigail did have a son. You were right about that. But his name was—”

  “Michael Mercer?” He nodded. “That was my name before I changed it to Russell Anderson. I left New York in search of my real father. The trail led me to Las Vegas but stopped here. I got my girlfriend pregnant and decided to stay.”

  “If what you’re saying is true, then your mother does not know about your daughter.”

  He nodded again. “No one in my family, our family, knows about Penny. My mother would have never approved. Instead of being shunned, I walked away. She still thinks I live in New York.”

  Distant sirens shrieked on their way to the warehouse. Sarah’s injuries made her want to lie down and wait.

  “How can I ever believe you? How can I ever believe anyone in this family?”

  “I have proof.”

  She turned toward him. “You have proof?”

  He pulled a photo from his back pocket and extended it to her.

  Sarah took it from him.

  “Who are these people?” she asked, even though she thought she recognized herself at two-years old.

  “That’s your mother Amelia and her sister, my mom, Abigail. The three children are you, me and Vivian.”

  Sarah brough
t the photo closer. After being told who the people were, she easily recognized her mother and the family resemblance in Abigail. Russell was also recognizable.

  But Vivian … this was the only shot of Vivian she had ever seen.

  Vivian’s face shone in the photo as she smiled wide, holding little Sarah’s hand and carrying a bucket and shovel to play with in the sand on the beach wherever this photo was taken.