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Endgame (Book 2): Alekhine's Gun

Page 43

by W. A. R.


  They screamed and whimpered, scurrying about as best as they could with their binds on their hands and legs, the gags in their mouths. A nervous feeling settled deeply in Brian’s empty stomach as he approached a young woman. The fear in her eyes was unsettling and Brian hated it. Quickly, with no protest from the rest of Adrian’s men, he jerked up the young woman. She shrieked and cried, squirming from him but he never faltered, his hold on her so tight that Brian knew it was bruising her. He watched as Justin drug her behind the tree he was leaned against and threw her on the ground. He glanced at the other men, most of whom merely smirked and turned, their hands on their guns and their backs to whatever scene was going to play out. The women in Adrian’s group turned as well, though it appeared they were a little uneasy with it. It was then Brian knew what was going to happen.

  Justin knelt down to his knees and pulled at the rope keeping Brian secured to the tree. “Good. Just wanted to make sure you couldn’t move.” He then peered around and met Brian’s hot stare. No, this couldn’t be happening. He was taken back to how he had found Amber in her house after it had been broken into. He remembered how frightened and scared she had been. These men, these horrible people were not fit to walk this Earth. Was this the mission that they survived for?

  Brian swallowed thickly, hoping to save the girl from whatever anguish she was about to endure while at the same time unwilling to appear weak. “What do you want from me?”

  Justin chuckled as the woman tried to scurry away. He latched onto her quickly, dragging her across the sticks and dirt. “I’m doing this just because I’m in the mood. I’m doing this to you because you are the bane of my existence, you sorry piece of shit.” Justin turned and hit the woman across her cheek with the back of his hand before grabbing her hair and shoving her face into the ground roughly, with no regard to her well-being. “How does this make you feel?”

  Brian clenched his jaw in anger. “Don’t do this.”

  “Or what?” he laughed at Brian’s helplessness. He turned to the woman for a moment before returning to look deviously at Brian. His expression was pure evil and darkness. “By the way, while this is happening, I want you to think of Shelly…” Brian’s heart stopped. “Because I did this same thing to her right. Before. I. Killed. Her.” he stated evenly, each word weighted. Brian jumped, releasing a heart wrenchingly angry yell. He struggled against the ropes, straining to reach the man. Justin laughed, just laughed, before turning to the woman and gripping her hair. Brian fought, tears stinging his eyes.

  “You’re a fucking liar!”

  Justin adjusted the struggling woman beneath him before straddling her. He quirked an eyebrow at Brian. “Am I?”

  “Get off of her!”

  “You gonna make me? Like you made me get off Shelly?” he taunted and before Brian knew it Justin had taken the woman, causing her to scream. “I am the law now in this fucked up world.” He smirked at Brian. “Hope you enjoy the show.”

  Brian flinched and turned his tear filled and closed eyes away. He closed his eyes tightly, rocking back and forth as much as he could, trying to chant in his mind something, anything to take away the images in his mind. But every time something else filled his mind, the woman would scream or cry through her gag and his thoughts would flash with images of Justin on top of Shelly, gun pressed to her head before he finally pulled the trigger. This wasn’t right; it wasn’t ever supposed to be like this. They were all supposed to be alive and well, not enduring this hell that they were now subjected to. This young, scared woman did not deserve to be scarred like this. No woman did. What hurt him more was that it was happening right behind him and there was absolutely nothing that he could do about it. Nothing at all. He wondered if she had a husband and if the husband was watching in agony, wanting nothing more than to stop it. He wondered if she had kids that were watching their mother being taken advantage of. Her parents? Would they bear witness to something so horrendous? And yet, maybe, just maybe she was alone, and then, she would have no one to turn to for comfort when it was all said and over with. He would forever be unable to drown out her screams as they rang in his ears. He fought back the urge to vomit, especially when she quit fighting, no longer struggling against the assault that was given to her. Within fifteen minutes, blood roaring in his ears and his breathing heavy, he heard the undeniable sound of Justin’s zipper. The rustling of leaves sounded and within seconds Justin escorted the woman covered in blood, dirt, and leaves, back to where the other prisoners sat, crying. Her face was stoic and unreadable, resigned. It made Brian sick.

  “I thought Adrian was evil, but this? This is plain despicable.” Brian seethed through clenched teeth. Justin threw the woman to the ground and turned hastily to Brian, an amused twinkle in his eyes. He crossed his arms and neared Brian, the woman’s screams still loud in Brian’s ears.

  “Unfortunately, that isn’t allowed in the compound. Boss finds it to be very…unclean. There is a guaranteed death to those that do it in the compound.” He lowered once again to his haunches before Brian, his eyes heated and challenging. “This though, outside, is fair game.” Brian said nothing more, just merely glowered at the man until Justin stood, the short man towering over his prisoner. The look in his eyes told Brian that he would be forever more trapped with this monster of a man. He couldn’t escape, and even if he could, how could he leave these innocent people, people like him, behind? He was stuck there by moral conviction and he promised the starlit heavens through the trees that he would find a way out for himself and for these helpless and defeated people. Justin smirked. “You’re in my hell now. Hope you can survive it.”

  Brian realized then that if he hadn’t known or realized before, he knew then just how twisted the motherfuckers he was dealing with were; he had to get out of there.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Miles watched as she made her way to the house, one hand on Shelly’s shoulder and the other holding Shelly’s hand. He was behind the two of them, Zeus at his heels, talking with Michael and Rusty. Well, talking was a bit of an exaggeration. He was at a loss for words. When Michael had taken him over there, he hadn’t expected Michael to take him directly to her. She looked so different, and even her personality was different. There was a lot to talk about, he knew, things that had happened, things that none of them wanted to talk about but knew that they would have to at some point soon. Amber turned and glanced over her shoulder at him, and it was if she was reading his mind. He met her offhand look with his own stern one. She was going to talk to him about everything whether she wanted to or not. She needed to, he needed to. He was angry, she could tell. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the hostility he felt.

  Immediately, as she let him go from their welcoming embrace, she had implemented a distance between them. It was obvious and he wanted to know why. She was running and pushing him away when all he needed to do was close that distance and hold her. Once his initial relief and acceptance that she was safe had worn off, he had felt the growing rise of agitation that eventually dove into anger. What had she been thinking? Risking her life? And Michael…he had helped her risk her life. It had come so damn close, and he had thought it true, to Cassie, Elliot and himself never seeing her again. That angered him. Did she not care of what she would have left behind? Of course she cared, hell…that was why she did it. But he remembered Cassie’s anguish and he recalled his own brief loss of sanity. He had been livid…unstable and ready to kill whomever he could with his bare hands, seeking revenge and once he got it he would have ended his own life, he was sure. It wasn’t just him, however. He could see that she was hardened and distant. They hadn’t spoken since the boy came and interrupted their reunion and his hands were shoved in his pockets, trembling with the urge and desire to reach out to her, to feel her again. She was so close and yet so far. She didn’t want him to touch her in that familiar friendly touch, much less in a lover’s gentle caress. That bothered him, hurt him and he couldn’t understand why. Didn’t she trust him; trus
t that he would never hurt her? Didn’t she realize that she needed to give in and he would be there to catch her? He had told her that he would break down every wall she built up against the world to reach her, and he fully intended on doing so, if he could reign in his flaring temper.

  “Dad!” Michael shouted from beside him and Miles realized that he had been lost in his own thoughts, drifting back and forth between memories and the future. His eyes had been trained on Amber’s back, the short brown length of her hair, and even the swords. Where had she even gotten those? Could she use them? He had missed so damn much. He needed to talk with her. He had gotten vague recounts from the others since they had arrived the evening before in the warehouse, but Amber’s false death and his temporary insanity thereafter prevented any of them from discussing what had happened in the past three weeks. What had happened to them all? Why was Damien’s name on a cross? He hadn’t missed that and it angered him. He questioned how the man had gotten under her skin. “Dad!” Michael exclaimed once again, this time earning concerned looks from both Shelly and Amber. Miles shook his head and heaved a heavy sigh.

  “Huh?” he asked nonchalantly, and Amber’s gaze lingered on his just a little longer. He deliberately tore his eyes from hers, knowing that the action would hurt her, knowing that it would sting. Maybe, just maybe, it would prompt her to lash out at him eventually, because she needed that release, to scream and yell and just be angry. He could tell that was exactly what she needed, though she would never admit it. Michael had mentioned her breaking down the night before, and yet he didn’t think it had been enough. She was just as upset with him as he was with her…she just couldn’t bring herself to admit it.

  “You alright?” Michael asked and Miles nodded in answer. He needed to get his mind off of things he couldn’t approach right then and there and focus on the present. He would talk to her about all of this later…whenever they were able.

  He turned to Michael and smiled. “I’m good.” He paused, giving his next words a moment. He wanted them to sink in the depth of sincerity with which he spoke them. “I’m real proud of you, ya know?” he asked and Michael chuckled. Miles shrugged, watching as the top of the houses came into view. Michael didn’t believe him, Miles realized, and he felt his heart plummet in response to this. “I’m serious! How can I not be? You are raising animals, gardening, you have electricity and water…look at this! And then there is the huge fact you saved the others…just…damn son.” He grinned widely at his son, showing that he was expressing nothing but the truth in his words. “This town is amazing. You are amazing. It is all just so…unreal.”

  Michael kicked a rock with the toe of his shoe; his modesty overwhelming even to Miles. “I know. I can’t believe it all happened this way either…but here we are. I’ve missed you…I’m sorry for everything…I never wanted to hurt anyone.” At that point Rusty ran up and jumped on Michael’s back, rubbing his closed fist aggressively against the crown of his head. “AAGGHHH! Rusty get off!” he exclaimed angrily before he tumbled over.

  “Quit apologizing for everything! You won’t stop! You act like you’ve done all of the bad stuff.” Rusty mocked him before Michael growled and rolled over. The two young men began wrestling, Michael clearly embarrassed and wanting to leave the tumble, to stand up and be the responsible young man that Miles knew he was.

  Miles couldn’t help but chuckle as he stopped walking to watch the two boys wrestle. “He has a point. Just let it go, son. Besides, I think after we all get a good night’s rest we will be able to comprehend everything a little better.”

  “I agree.” Riley said as he rounded a building and ambled up to them. He grinned at Miles before looking at Amber and Shelly who had stopped to wait on them a few yards away. “Doctor give her the all clear?” he asked and Miles nodded, reaching forward to shake his hand. Riley took it easily, studying Miles with a perception that bothered even him.

  “Said she was a trooper. About…six?...yeah, six months along.” He said and Riley lifted a brow at him in surprise, crossing his arms over his chest before sidestepping his wrestling younger brother and Michael.

  He released a low whistle. “She is pretty far along then. They will be just fine around here though. All of you will.” He glanced again at Amber with concern and Miles shifted on his feet. “I see you found her. How did that go?” he asked and Michael quickly stood, shoving clumsily away from Rusty and dusting himself off as if nothing had happened. He tried to steady his breathing as he straightened his shirt and lifted his chin in defiance.

  “About as you’d expect.” He replied as Rusty rushed to his feet as well, running up to Amber and sliding a friendly arm across her shoulders. She released Shelly and shoved him back but he kept a steady hold on her. They said something to one another and laughed, Shelly laughing as well. Miles felt like an outcast then, and the anger he had been suppressing slowly began to surface again. “…I don’t think his mind is in the right place. He keeps zoning out. Dad!” he heard Michael say before waving a hand in front of his face, forcing him to tear his eyes away from Amber.

  He ran a hand across his face. “Everything is just a bit overwhelming. I just need to rest.” He told them, receiving knowing looks from both Michael and Riley. They knew he was lying, that there was something else underlying his lack of focus but they didn’t push it. Instead, Riley shrugged and began advancing towards the corner of the building, the house slowly coming into view.

  “In that case, let’s go get you cleaned up and rested for tonight.” He said and as Miles was about to ask what was happening that night, his thoughts were interrupted by a commotion from the front yard. Amber looked up, losing her smile and suddenly she bolted, rushing as fast as she could with a grim determination on her face. Shelly shouted for her to stop, but she either didn’t listen or couldn’t hear her. Rusty began to move, as did Riley and Michael, but Miles was faster, his heart pounding already from the adrenaline rush of Amber leaving his sight. As soon as he rounded the building, he saw what had caused her to jump into action. Lacy was straddling Buddy, beating the living hell out of him. He didn’t swing back at her; no, he tried to stop her from continuing her abuse. Shelly wasn’t shouting for Amber to stop; she was shouting for Lacy to stop.

  Amber was running as fast as she could and in the split second that it took for Lacy to look up at Shelly’s direction did Amber barrel into her, causing both women to sprawl out on the ground in front of the porch. Lacy’s head rammed against some shovels and garden hoes that were resting against the porch’s ledge. They clattered to the ground noisily as Amber rolled easily, swiftly to her feet. She stood as Lacy did the same, Lacy gripping a shovel tightly in her hands and a determined, disgusted look on her face. Miles opened his mouth to shout at her, at both of them and Buddy scrambled to his knees, blood pouring from his wounded nose. Rusty rushed up behind Amber quickly, his steps just slightly faster than Miles’s had been. No sooner had his momentum stopped behind her did Lacy release a rebel yell and swing the shovel at Amber as hard as she could. Amber grunted and ducked and the metal end of the spade connected with the side of Rusty’s head. He shouted out in pain as Buddy finally made it to his feet, Rusty falling clumsily to the ground. Amber whipped her head around to him and growled before turning back to Lacy, retrieving two swords from their scabbards.

  “Lacy, stop!” he shouted, rushing up to them. He didn’t tell Amber to stop, and the thought didn’t occur to him until later that he had done this to preserve Amber. He knew that subconsciously, he didn’t want anything to happen to her and if he could get Lacy to stop swinging then Amber would, without a doubt, be fine. Still, as he neared them, he slid to his knees, narrowly missing the wide arch of the shovel’s blade as Lacy swung it haphazardly at Amber. Amber met it with her sword, effectively stopping it, and without missing a beat she brought her foot up and connected it powerfully against Lacy’s chest. Lacy flew back with a groan, dropping her hold on the shovel handle before landing hard on her back. Amber quickly r
ushed forward and settled over her, slamming both swords down at her neck. There was a brief moment of panic in Miles’s heart at the slight thought of Amber killing the girl. But she didn’t. Instead, the blades dug deep into the dirt at a cross, cradling her neck and keeping her from moving unless she wanted to be sliced open. Amber’s hands left the hilts and she rose to her feet, staring down at Lacy and breathing heavily. Lacy didn’t move; she was too scared to and that much was obvious in her eyes. Miles quickly regained his footing and made his way over to her.

  “Who in the hell are you?” Lacy asked hotly and before Miles could reach for Amber, he watched as Buddy wrapped his wide arms around her, pulling her struggling back. He was stabilizing her and she shoved against him. He didn’t recognize her. Miles watched as he let his eyes drift to the swords pinning a motionless Lacy, their blue depths widening in realization as he released her and turned her to face him. Miles sighed then, feeling the frustration once again consume him and, knowing that she was safe, ambled over towards Lacy.

  “Sweetness?” Buddy asked as he studied her. Suddenly, that smile of hers, that smile that was once aimed in his direction came across her face. He felt his heart grow heavy. It had been three weeks since he had seen it pointed in his direction and the fact that she was sharing it with Buddy only seemed to push him further. He carefully released Lacy from the holds of the swords and helped her stand, laying the swords down to the side as she rubbed absently at her neck.

 

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