by Rachel Woods
“Mr. Chang ain’t killed them.”
A strange jolt passed through Sione. Bermudez wasn’t lying. Ben Chang hadn’t killed Carla Garcia, Maxine Porter, and Karen Nelson. Moana had fired the fatal bullets. Then Sione had killed Moana—maybe.
“Mr. Chang ain’t gonna kill Ms. Edwards,” Bermudez insisted. “She got something he needs.”
“Well, since you know where Tommy Fong is staying,” Sione said and then grabbed Bermudez by the throat and yanked him off the couch, “you’re going to take me to him.”
Cursing, Bermudez tried to pry Sione’s hand away, gagging and tripping over his feet as Sione forced him toward the door. Sione grabbed the knob with his left hand and opened the door. Sliding his hand to the back of Bermudez’s neck, he forced the man over the threshold, onto the concrete porch, and then down the three steps. Beyond the corrugated awning covering the porch, the sun was bright, harsh, and hot.
Sione guided Bermudez toward the fence, and they walked along the waist-high chain-link separating the yard from the tangle of trees and bushes on the opposite side.
They were yards from the paved road in front of the property when an SUV turned into the gravel-and-grass driveway. The vehicle stopped a few feet away. Squinting, Sione shielded his eyes from the glare of sunlight off the windshield of the SUV.
Seconds later, the driver’s door of the SUV opened. D.J. got out and then stalked toward him, scowling, churning up gravel and dust with each long, determined stride.
“What the hell?” D.J. demanded. “What are you doing?”
“A guy named Tommy Fong took Spencer,” Sione said, keeping his hold on Bermudez. “This asshole knows where Fong is staying, and—”
“Why didn’t you call me?” D.J. asked. “When I left you last night, we agreed that—”
Sione said, “I know what we agreed to, but—”
“If I hadn’t decided to call Jared and come over here to see what the hell was going on,” D.J. said, “then you would have gone off without me, on your own, with no backup, or—”
“I don’t have time to argue with you,” Sione said. “I need to get to Spencer.”
The passenger door slammed. Sione glanced toward the SUV. Jared walked around the front of the SUV, toward Sione and D.J. “Somebody want to tell me what the hell is going on?”
“I know where Spencer is, and I need to get to her,” Sione told Jared. “Ben is already on his way there.”
“Ben?” Jared stared at Sione. “Ben Chang? What the hell does he have to do with all this?”
Sione shook his head. “I don’t have time to explain.”
Jared said, “You better make time.”
“After I get Spencer back,” Sione said.
“You can’t go up against Ben by yourself,” D.J. said.
“I’m not afraid of Ben Chang,” Sione said.
“I know you’re not,” D.J. said. “But you’re not thinking straight. And I don’t want you to let these misguided feelings for Ms. Edwards make you do something stupid, like kill Ben Chang.”
“If you insist on running off to rescue Ms. Edwards,” Jared said, “then we’re coming with you.”
chapter 105
San Ignacio, Belize
Location Unknown
“Sweet girl …” The whispered voice terrified Spencer, the sound sinking into her, leaving her confused and unable to move. “Wake up …”
Spencer ignored the light taps against her cheek. She prayed the nightmare would be over soon and her dreams of John would return. John was the only man she wanted. The man she’d always wanted. She just hadn’t known it.
Spencer hadn’t allowed herself to believe she deserved someone like John. A man willing to love her despite her flaws and faults. A man who accepted and understood that she made mistakes but wouldn’t hold them against her or punish her because she wasn’t perfect. Keeping her eyes shut, Spencer prayed that when she opened them John would be there, gazing at her with those beautiful hazel eyes.
She needed John to be there. She wanted to tell him how she felt about him. She needed so badly to tell him—
“Sweet girl!” The voice was forceful, commanding. “You have to get up!”
Angry, her hopes dashed, Spencer opened her eyes. A sob escaped, but she bit her lip and rubbed her eyes, refusing to cry. Ben sat beside her on the edge of the mattress.
“What are you doing here?”
“Doing for you what you refused to do for me, sweet girl.” He pulled her to a sitting position. “I’m saving your life. I’m not leaving you to die.”
“How did you find me?” Spencer asked. “How did you know I was here?”
“That doesn’t matter,” he said and then grabbed her hands and held them up.
“What are you doing?”
Instead of answering her, Ben held up a knife and sliced the rope Fong had tied her with. Seconds later, he slit the rope that held her ankles, and she was free of the restraints.
“Come on.” Ben grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet.
“Why did you trick me?” Spencer yanked her hand from his firm grasp, terror and rage dueling within her, fighting to dominate her emotions. “Why did you make me think you were going to be at that house?”
Ben sighed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but—”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about!” she said. “You sent me a note telling me to meet you, but when I got to the house, you weren’t there! It was that crazy asshole Tommy Fong!”
“I don’t know anything about some note Fong sent you,” Ben said, dismissive. “Tell me where the envelope is.”
Backing away from him, she said, “The envelope?”
“Sweet girl.” Frowning, Ben took a step toward her. “I need that envelope. You sent me several texts saying that you had found the envelope and you wanted to meet so we could make an exchange.”
“Tommy Fong almost killed me and all you care about is that damn envelope?”
Ben frowned at her. “The envelope is not all I care about. But you were supposed to find that envelope, which you did, so now I—”
“Where have you been?” Spencer stared up at him, confused and furious. “Why didn’t you return any of my texts? I didn’t know what had happened to you. I didn’t know if you were alive or dead!”
“Is that a bit of concern in your tone, sweet girl?” Ben asked, an amused smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “Were you worried about me?”
Spencer looked away, not sure what to think or say, still groggy and disoriented. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, wishing it wasn’t so damn hot and muggy. Her hair hung around her shoulders, the strands limp and damp. Sweat rolled from her neck, down her back, and between her breasts.
“No, I didn’t think so,” Ben said. “If you were worried about anything, it was getting your hands on that video.”
“I don’t know where the envelope is,” Spencer said, looking away, not in the mood to feel condemned for wanting to avoid prison or guilty about the things she’d done to stay out of jail.
“What do you mean you don’t know?” Ben glared at her. “Your messages said that you found the envelope and—”
“I did find it,” she said, rubbing her eyes, trying to get her bearings. “When I got that fake message from Tommy Fong, I put the envelope in my purse. But I don’t know where my purse is. ”
“Why don’t you know—”
“When I got to the house Fong told me to come to,” Spencer said, “he attacked me, and all I could think was I had to get out of there. I think I accidentally dropped my purse. I wasn’t thinking about anything except getting away from Fong before he killed me.”
Rubbing his chin, Ben said, “He wouldn’t have killed you.”
“He said that, too,” Spencer said. “He told me I was no good dead. What did he mean by that?”
“Sweet girl, listen to me. We need to leave,” Ben said. “We need to go back to the house Fong told you to go to las
t night. Can you remember where the house is?”
“I’m not going back to that house,” she said, sidestepping away from him, glancing around the small, humid shed, looking for a weapon.
“That’s where you left your purse, remember?” Ben said, his calm tone laced with barely suppressed irritation. “And you put the envelope in your purse, so we have to go back to that house and—”
“That’s where Tommy Fong attacked me! Because of you!” Spencer screamed at him. “Because Richard wanted to make you behave! I was taken so you could learn to be obedient! That’s why I went through this hell!”
“Sweet girl, what are you talking about?” Ben glared at her.
“I thought I was going to die!” she screamed at him. “I was treated worse than a dog because you disobeyed an order!”
“No man gives me orders!” Ben thundered.
“Richard gives you orders!” She took another step back. “If you had obeyed them, this wouldn’t have happened to me!”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. “We need to go!”
“I’m not going anywhere with you!” she said.
“Sweet girl, you have to trust me!”
“Trust you!” she screamed. “You threatened to kill my grandmother! As soon as you get what you want, you’ll kill me, too! Just like you killed Maxine Porter and Carla Garcia and—”
“Listen to me!” Ben grabbed her and shook her so hard, her teeth rattled. “If I wanted you dead, I would have killed you a long time ago! I could have done it the last time we made love. Don’t you remember that night? And the next morning?”
“I woke up to a knife in my face!”
“Did I cut you?” Ben asked. “Did I slit your throat? I could have put that knife in your chest while you were sleeping next to me! But I didn’t, and do you know why? Because I love you, Spencer!”
Shocked, she stared at him. Spencer? Her stomach jerked, and she felt something within her began to plummet. Since when had Ben ever called her Spencer? From the first day she’d met him, she’d been his sweet girl, not Spencer.
When he said her name, it was as though he was talking to someone else, talking about someone else. It didn’t sound natural coming from his mouth. It made him seem like a stranger.
I love you, Spencer.
That wasn’t true. She didn’t believe it. She wouldn’t believe it.
“Why do you look so surprised?” he asked. “Don’t you know by now how I feel about you?”
Confused, Spencer shook her head. “I don’t understand. How can you say—”
The door burst open, banging against the wall. Ben released her and turned, blocking her view. Spencer took a few side steps to the left. Tommy Fong stood in the doorway.
Glaring at Ben, Fong growled a series of harsh words Spencer didn’t understand but knew were Chinese. Ben replied in Chinese. Fong spoke again, his voice wavering with furious accusation. Stabbing a finger at Fong, Ben let forth a litany of phrases. She knew they were curses, and while not directed at her, they affected her as though they were, chilling her to the core.
Ben’s epithets seemed to have manifested into something sinister. The unseen terror appeared to grab Tommy Fong around the throat. Eyes wide, petrified, the small, wiry Asian turned and fled.
Ben faced her. “Stay here,” he said and then took off, following Tommy Fong and slamming the door behind him.
Confused, she stared at the door, feeling forlorn and abandoned.
Seconds later, there was a crash, something banging and tumbling, hitting the floor. Spencer went rigid, listening, trying to make out the sounds beyond the closed door. What the hell was happening? Were Ben and Tommy Fong fighting? Were they killing each other?
A wild, hoarse cry startled her, sending her heart into her throat.
A gunshot echoed.
Her heart racing, Spencer ran to the door, and without thinking, she flung it open.
In the living room near the coffee table, Fong crawled slowly across the floor, coughing and spitting blood, heading toward the front door. Ben stood over him, the muscles in his arm contracting as he lowered the gun in his hand until the barrel was aimed at Fong’s legs.
Gasping softly, Spencer held her breath. Ben muttered more words in Chinese. The gun went off again, abrupt and deafening, shaking her from the inside out. Fong screamed. Seconds later, another gunshot blasted. The report reverberated off the walls, mixing with the hoarse, strangled cries of Fong as bullets slammed into his legs.
Horrified, Spencer slammed the door and leaned against it, trying to get her bearings, trying to breathe, trying to think. She couldn’t just stand there and do nothing. She had to move. She had to get the hell out of the house. Her gaze flitted around the room, scanning objects, sizing them up, judging each as a potential tool for escape. Her eyes locked on a shovel leaning against a wall. If she hurled it at the window with all the strength she had left, it might break the glass panes.
A door slammed. Startled, Spencer turned, ran back to the door she’d closed, and opened it. In the living room, Tommy Fong was on the floor, moaning and writhing. Ben was gone. Spencer glanced around the living room, confused. Where had Ben gone? What was happening?
“Help me …” Fong whispered. “Help me … gun … need the gun.”
Spencer glared at him. Help him? Was he insane? He’d beat her and tied her up like an animal and he expected her to help him?
“The gun …” Fong rasped. “Table …”
Spencer spotted the gun on the coffee table and dashed to it. Grabbing the gun, Spencer ran back into the small, hot room. A door slammed again.
Seconds later, she heard, “You like to tie women up, huh?”
Ben was back. Gripping the gun, Spencer crept toward the door and stared out into the living room. Holding a red plastic gas can, Ben was walking around Tommy Fong, pouring gasoline on him as Fong writhed and cried, struggling to crawl away from the liquid splashing down around him, soaking his clothes and hair. Gagging from the smell of gasoline wafting in the air, Spencer watched, horrified, and yet mesmerized, as Ben doused Fong’s body with the gas.
“Did Richard tell you to tie her up?” Ben asked, staring down at Fong. “Did he tell you to beat her?”
Terrified, Spencer waited, her heart slamming as Ben reached into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a matchbook. Growling words in Chinese, Ben struck the match and dropped it onto Fong. Screams filled the air as flames leaped across Fong’s body. Spencer turned from the hellish scene. Panicked and frantic, she didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what to think.
“Sweet girl …”
Spencer spun around. Ben stood in the doorway, staring at her.
“Stay back!” She raised the gun, pointing it at him, shocked at the weight of it. “Get away from the door and stay back!”
“Give me the gun before you hurt yourself,” he said, walking toward her.
“Get away from me!” Spencer ordered, the gun wobbling in her trembling hands. “I mean it, get away from me or I will put a bullet between your eyes!”
“Sweet girl.” Ben sighed and shook his head. “There’s no way your aim could be that good. I doubt you even know how to shoot a gun.”
“How hard can it be?” she asked, infuriated, terrified, and knowing he was right. She would aim at him and somehow end up shooting herself. “All I have to do is pull the trigger.”
“Instead of trying to shoot me,” Ben said. “Why don’t we go and get your purse so you can give me the envelope and I can give you the video?”
“I don’t need the video!” Spencer said, tightening her death grip on the pistol. “I’m going to tell the police what you did, and you’re going to prison for murder!”
“What are you talking about?”
“You just killed Tommy Fong! You burned him alive!”
His gaze curious, Ben took a step toward her. “Have you thought about what will happen if the cops come and arrest me?”
; “Stay back,” Spencer warned, stepping backward.
“Eventually, I’ll go to trial, and you’ll have to testify against me.”
Keeping her eyes on him, Spencer tried to anticipate the sudden move she feared he would soon make.
“The police will want to know why I killed Tommy Fong,” Ben said. “And you will have to tell them that I blackmailed you because you stole from me.”
“Shut up!” She gripped the gun, struggling to keep it aimed at his face, feeling as though a noose had been slipped over her head, and Ben was steadily tightening the rope, making it impossible for her to breathe.
He was right, and she hated him for it.
“I will corroborate your story,” Ben said. “I will show the police the tape of you stealing from me. And what will Sione think about that? Doesn’t that worry you?”
Spencer wished she wasn’t worried. She wished she wasn’t terrified of what would happen if John ever found out about her “dating,” those awful things she’d never really wanted to do and had only done out of desperation. She wanted to be able to count on John’s feelings for her. But she didn’t know for sure that what she and John had was secure and stable, unable to be torn apart by the truth about her lies.
“When Sione finds out the treacherous bitch you really are—”
“Shut up!”
“You think you can explain to Sione why you stole from me? You think you can make him understand?” Ben asked, glaring at her. “You really think he wants to find out that this beautiful woman he is falling in love with is a heartless criminal who drugs men and steals from them? Think of how disappointed and disillusioned he would be. How could he ever trust you? Every time you fixed him a drink, he would think twice before he—”
“Go to hell!”
“Come on, sweet girl,” Ben chided. “Think rationally. You have Sione. He wants to be with you, he may already be in love with you, and if not, then he is very close to being in love with you.”
“I doubt that,” Spencer said, wondering if she could dare to believe John had fallen for her.
“You’re so close to getting what you want. Don’t blow it now, sweet girl,” Ben told her. “You need to think of yourself, think of the life Sione can give you. You can’t let this opportunity slip away. You may never get this chance again.”