Gone Black

Home > Other > Gone Black > Page 15
Gone Black Page 15

by Linda Ladd


  Still, she could not let herself succumb to terror of the unknown. Black was depending on her. The team was coming to get them. She had to make sure they both stayed alive until they did. And the boy, too. She had to think everything through. Watch her step. Figure out how to manipulate her captors. The girl had turned out to be easy. Her brother, not so much. All she had to do was find a way out if the team should run into trouble and not show up, outsmart her captors, put them down, one at a time, and then find Black and get him out. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. She looked tired and pale and drawn, but she didn’t look scared. Not yet, anyway. Thank God for that. But deep inside where she’d never let them see it, she was petrified for Black’s life. Probably right now he was being beaten, abused in ways she couldn’t let herself think about, and there was nobody there to help him.

  Now, on top of all those obstacles, she was afraid for the little kid, too. He was so little, and he had no way to fight back. They were mistreating him, battering him, and shocking him with that damn collar. And she was well aware of her own danger. She was expendable, too, just like Max had said, or she soon would be. Once they got her to their destination, for whatever purpose Marcel Soquet had in mind, she was a persona non grata, a dead persona non grata. Truth? All of them probably only had a matter of hours to live. Her only hope now was that she and Black held some kind of importance to them. Or that they wanted to keep them alive for their own sick reasons. That was what would save their lives, at least temporarily. She had to hope for that, in any case.

  When she heard the kid start sniffling a little bit behind her, she turned around and knelt down in front of him. She sat down on the floor, pulled him onto her lap, and spoke soothingly to him as she rocked him back and forth. “Hey, now, don’t you cry. I’m not gonna let them hurt you, not if I can help it.” She had started to promise him that she would protect him but knew she couldn’t protect him. If they decided to separate them, he would be back under Jaxy’s cruel thumb and there was nothing Claire could do about it. It depended on Max and his mood. “We just need to stick together. Okay? And if we get pulled apart, we’ll find each other again, okay? If that happens, we’ll just keep trying to get away and go looking until we find each other. If they take you away, you try to find me, understand? And I’ll try to find you. I promise you that.”

  “Okay,” he said, finally speaking. He looked up at her, rubbing tears off his face with his fingers.

  “What’s your name, honey? We haven’t even been introduced yet. I’m Claire. Who are you?”

  The child kept his eyes lowered. His lashes were very long, thick, and dark. He was a handsome boy. “Rico.”

  Rico? That was an Italian name, and he had a slight Italian inflection to his English. He sounded like an American. Italian American, maybe? What was he doing with French arms dealers and criminals? “What’s your last name?”

  The child nodded. “Torelli.”

  “How old are you, Rico?”

  “Eight. Almost.”

  The child looked too small to even be seven years old. Not much larger than Zach had been when he died. Rico looked more like five or six. But his big brown eyes were wide now, and he had stopped crying. He seemed more alert and less afraid. He seemed older, just like that.

  “Where are your parents, Rico? How did these people get hold of you?”

  Rico looked down at the floor. His voice got thick. “They shot them and threw them in the sea. Now the bad ones live in my house. Mama and Daddy are dead now and eaten up by the fishes.”

  Oh, God, Claire thought. They murdered his parents and then took him as their pet? “I’m so sorry, Rico. But maybe your family’s all right after all. Maybe they survived somehow. Maybe they’re out looking for you right now.”

  But Claire didn’t believe that for a moment, and neither did the boy, judging by the tears welling up inside his eyes.

  “I saw them get shot,” said Rico. “I tried to run away but they always catch me, every time.”

  “How long have they had you?”

  “A long time.”

  Claire winced. He had to have seen some terrible things. No doubt about it. He wasn’t ever going to be the same. Not ever. Poor baby.

  “That man, Max? Is he the boss? Does he always call the shots?”

  He shook his head. “They have a daddy. He tells them both what to do.”

  “I am so sorry that this happened to you, Rico. Does Max always tell Jaxy what to do?”

  The child nodded.

  “Does she keep you on that leash all the time?” Claire was pretty sure she did. She had seen the dark purple bruise on Rico’s neck when she’d washed his hair.

  He nodded again. “She jerks it when I try to take it off. But she likes to shock me because then I cry. Because it really hurts.” His eyes widened, afraid again, and then he said, “Sometimes I do get it off when she’s asleep and then I run away and hide. I have a good hideout.”

  “Well, that’s good. Is it a safe place?”

  He nodded again.

  “But they catch you when you come out again?”

  Rico nodded some more. “They catch me when I get hungry and go down to the kitchen. Sometimes they don’t. But I get really hungry. I’ve eaten almost everything that Mama left down in the storeroom.”

  Okay, now came the important part. “Rico, Max said they used you to catch a man. His name is Nicholas Black. He’s really big and tall and has blue eyes and black hair. Do you remember that? Is that true?”

  He nodded, looked at the closed door, appearing to become very frightened again.

  Claire inhaled deeply. She had to ask him, but she didn’t want to. She had to. “Is he still alive? Do you know where they are keeping him?”

  “He’s locked up in this special room they made. It’s all white and stuff. But I’ve seen him. Sometimes Jaxy takes me in there with her, on the leash. She makes me watch her hurt him. She says to watch how much it hurts ’cause she’ll do the same things to me if I run away again.”

  Claire felt absolutely sick to her stomach, but she was more hopeful now. “Can you show me where he is?”

  “He’s in that white room. That’s where they put the ones they bring to my house and keep up there so they can hurt them. I can hear them screaming and yelling for help sometimes when I’m down in my hideout. But I can’t help them. I’m too little. But I haven’t heard that man named Nicholas Black screaming. He’s been real quiet, even when Jaxy hits him.”

  Claire shivered. “How did they catch him? Did they hurt him much?”

  “They made me stand right out in the middle of this dark road at night, and he almost ran over me with his car. He had to swerve and throw on the brakes so he wouldn’t hit me. It sure did scare me. But then he got out and talked to me and started to take off the collar. He was gonna take me away with him, he said he was but then they ran out and got him. He had a gun and he fought real hard, and he shot two of them, down dead, too, but they had lots of men and they finally got him down.”

  He paused for a moment and searched Claire’s face. “But I thought he was going to get away for a minute. He fought real hard. Then Jaxy hit him with that pink thing. He tried to get up, but all the men were holding him down. Then she gave him some kinda shot and after that he got all still and didn’t move, not at all, not in all the time we were going back.”

  “You sure he’s still alive? You’re sure about that?”

  The child nodded again. Claire let out a relieved breath but jumped when a fist thudded on the door beside her. Then Max’s voice came from outside. Calm, but slightly annoyed. “Get out here. Now. Both of you.”

  Claire pushed herself to standing, lifted the child in her arms, and opened the door. But she felt better. Now that she’d splashed water on her face. Now that she knew they hadn’t killed Black, she could breathe easier, unless they’d done it since Max and his sister had been sent to fetch her back for more of their father’s sadistic mind games. The kid knew where he
was, though, and he could show her. But she had to get away first, and she would. No matter what it took, she’d find a way to get to Black.

  When she got back to her seat, she found a bit o’ bad news waiting for her there. Psycho Jaxy was sitting where Max had been, staring belligerently at her. Apparently she was back on guard duty. She still had a red mark on her cheek from where Claire had slapped her, but it had faded some. Too bad. Claire had given that blow everything she had in her. Claire looked at the mark and smiled. Jaxy narrowed her eyes and made that same growling sound deep in her throat, sort of like an angry raccoon with rabies. Maybe she was an animal dressed up like a woman. But no—she was worse than any animal.

  The good news was that there was a dinner tray sitting on the table beside Claire’s recliner. It had a red plastic dinner plate with two ham sandwiches, a bag of Lay’s barbecue potato chips, and two unopened cans of Coke. Okay, at least the cuisine was good. The boy was thin as a rail and he looked at the food as if he’d never seen any before, and he probably hadn’t, not in a long time. Not as frail as he was. It didn’t sound like Jaxy was feeding him regular, wholesome meals.

  Claire sat down with him but she kept him safely on her lap, on the side away from his evil tormentor. Jaxy was not going to get him again, not as long as Claire was living and breathing and had some fight left in her. She picked up a sandwich and smelled it, and then opened the bread to make sure they hadn’t put any poison or drugs in it. No mayo, no nothing. It was just ham and bread, so probably safe enough to eat. Rico ate his so fast that he almost choked on it. Claire couldn’t eat a bite, she was too nervous and anxious, so she handed him her sandwich, too. She did eat some of the chips but gave Rico most of them. Then she popped the tabs on the Cokes. She drank hers, all the while partaking in one big-time serious, I-wish-you-were-dead glaring contest with Jaxy a.k.a. Jackal.

  But her thoughts remained on Black. He was alive, thank God. He was holding his own under terrible circumstances, and according to his reports on the Soquets, it was only going to get worse for him. He had to hang on until she got there. He knew somebody would come after him, and he would fight for his own survival. She knew him well enough to know that much. He was tough and he was smart. He was a shrink. He knew his stuff. She couldn’t do a thing until she found him, so she would just have to wait until they landed somewhere. She would have to remain patient, which was not one of her strong suits and never had been. Watch them, listen to them, find out as much as she could about them and the way they did things, and she had to protect the little boy. He knew where Black was, and Claire was going to keep him safely with her as long as she could. Jaxy was going to need a damn crowbar to get that poor kid out of her arms.

  After a while, Jaxy got tired of staring daggers at Claire and got up and stalked off. One of the twin goons took her place across from them and resumed the eyeballing. He was the larger one, the one with the curly black ponytail and lion tattoo, the one she had heard Jaxy call Barto. The blond’s name was Ronald, and he was racked out asleep on a recliner across the cabin. Barto was very alert and kept his eyes latched on Claire, and she hoped that she was never at his mercy. It was pretty clear what he would do if given the chance. His eyes kept sliding down her body, and then back up to her face, and then he’d smirk evilly at her. Jeez, this really was a freak show of gargantuan proportions. Everybody was nuts. Max didn’t show his ever-mellow face; he had disappeared somewhere to read the rest of his book in peace probably. So there had to be other compartments on the plane, back in the rear, probably sleeping compartments used for rest between their criminal abductions and felony murders. They seemed to have kidnapping down to an art. They had gotten Black and her, and the two of them were not the easiest people to take down.

  Yes sir, the Soquets appeared to be pretty damn smart, especially Max, and it also appeared that his word was tantamount to law, at least for now. Lucky for Claire. Otherwise, Jaxy would have tied her up and beaten her to bloody raw hamburger by now. Probably the way she had done to Black. Oh, God, he was still suffering somewhere. Right now. Alone. But at least that bitch wasn’t there to abuse him. Jaxy was such a damn coward. Her victims had to be tied up and unable to fight back or a tiny seven-year-old, before she could get her jollies. Then and there, Claire vowed again that she would wreak her own vengeance on Ms. Jaxy, tit for tat and blow for blow. She would just have to bide her time. First things first. But then Jaxy would have to pay. Jaxy was gonna end up dead, if Claire had anything to do with it.

  For a long time, the jet’s engines rumbled and droned on, loud and steady. Claire dozed a little, now and again, but she kept Rico secure and on her lap. He had turned and faced her, clutching her tightly with both arms wrapped around her neck again, but he had finally gone to sleep. Nobody bothered either of them, and Claire finally slept, but fitfully, her dreams full of visions of Black and the devil with the sap and blood and gore and nowhere to hide. She opened her eyes again when the plane’s wheels hit the ground and skidded, and the squeal of straining brakes shook the plane. She found the boy was still in her arms, but awake now, too. The bitch was sitting across from them again. She had the dog collar and leash lying on her lap, and she was slapping the sap against her palm. Scare tactics. It was working. The child was trembling so much that his teeth were chattering.

  Claire kept her voice down low so Max wouldn’t hear. “You ever thought of untying your victims and picking on somebody your own size, Jaxy? How about putting down that sap and showing me what you’ve really got? Just the two of us, one-on-one?”

  Jabbing at the girl was what was going to get Claire that sap. Jaxy was easily angered, and uncontrolled anger made people careless. Claire could pick at that weakness because Max wanted Claire undamaged. Jaxy knew that and so did Claire. The girl stood up and glowered down at Claire. Her hand was gripping the sap so hard that her knuckles looked white. Anger management was not Miss Jaxy’s thing. She would do something dumb soon, and Claire would continue to goad her until she did, bet on it.

  “I ought to beat the shit outta you,” said the girl, being her usual sweet self. “Just make you bleed all over the place. Bruise you up real good.”

  “Like I said before, just try it. I’d like to see you do it.”

  Max’s voice came from behind them, stern and annoyed. “For God’s sake, Jaxy, the woman is goading you. Use your head for a change. And put that thing away.”

  Jaxy seethed, almost until Claire thought that steam might seep out her ears, but she must think her big bro was the cat’s meow, because she slumped back down into the seat and deposited the sap in its little pink leather sap holster on her belt. How sick was that? Pink, for God’s sake. In close reach, though, and ready to go, as soon as big brother turned his back and left her to her own devices. That’s what Claire wanted. She could beat the woman in any fair fight. If they were alone. That’s what she was waiting for. After that exchange, there was complete silence aboard the plane. Claire concentrated on the boy because he was still trembling as the plane rolled to the end of the runway. He was back home, and home was a scary place.

  After the aircraft came to a complete halt, Claire stood up with Rico still holding tightly to her neck and his legs wrapped around her waist. Jaxy was prodding her in the back with her Ruger, hard, jabbing it into her spine, and Claire hoped to hell she knew how to handle deadly weapons. If the handgun went off, she and Rico both were dead. Apparently, Max noticed that, too.

  “Back off, Jaxy, or I’m taking you off this detail. Don’t try me further. I’m not in the mood. You are acting like a damn fool.”

  Glad he was not in said mood, Claire sent a smirk in Jaxy’s direction. The other girl bristled and narrowed her eyes, trying to scare Claire, no doubt. Keep simmering, you stupid jerk, Claire thought. Keep it up, and you’ll make a mistake that I can take advantage of. Max was way too calm and way too collected; Claire would never be able to get a rise out of him. And if she did, she probably wouldn’t like the outcome one little bit
. He was highly dangerous, no doubt about it. She would have to tread lightly with him or suffer the consequences. Cold as ice didn’t even touch what he was.

  Outside, the air was hot, stifling, a summer night filled with the songs of insects hiding in the dark. Probably afraid of the Soquets, too. So this was Marseilles. The airstrip was lit up behind them, two strings of lights stretching to the far end of the dusty field. There were no buildings, no house, nothing at all, except for big high masses of hills or mountains rising up around them. Probably the foothills of the Apennines. One vehicle sat waiting on the tarmac. An old WWII–vintage Jeep, one with its top off, an ancient American military vehicle, painted with green and black camouflage. Things were not looking good.

  “Go on, get in,” Max told her. “Give the kid to Jaxy.”

  Like hell I will, Claire thought. That’s when she darted away so quick that it caught them all by surprise. She took off running with the kid, heading toward the dark underbrush about twenty yards away from the car. Max yelled something behind her, and she heard the thud of running footsteps coming fast behind her. She stopped when she had almost reached the dark tree line, dropped the child onto his feet, and yelled, “Run, Rico, run and hide! Run fast!”

  The little boy took off, running like the wind, and was quickly swallowed up by the shadows in nothing flat. Claire smiled to herself, but then she was grabbed from behind and thrown to the ground on her stomach. She grunted as a knee came down on her back and her arms were forced up behind her back. Great big, size-thirteen brown suede boots stopped right in front of her face, where her cheek was being pressed into the dirt.

  “You just don’t listen, do you?” Max said. Still calm, though. He did not have a hair trigger, that much was sure.

 

‹ Prev