The Thriller Collection

by S W Vaughn

  Damn it. Every instinct he had screamed at him to turn around and walk away. He was already saving the son of a bitch from Shep, so why should he bail him out of this, too? It was ten miles to town, at minimum, but Stone had been military. They ate ten miles for breakfast.

  Just not at three in the morning after they cracked their bikes up in a field.

  He sighed. “Come on. I’ll give you a ride home.”

  Stone stared at him. “You will?”

  “Yes, damn it. Kat would kill me if I left you out here.”

  “Oh.” He drew a shaking breath and gained his feet again slowly.

  “Can you walk?”

  “Yes.” Stone took a step, and his front leg buckled and dropped him back down. He sighed sharply. “No.”

  Of course you can’t. Roman’s back had just settled down to a dull ache. Supporting a couple hundred pounds of solid muscle was not going to do him any favors. He was tempted to tell Stone to crawl to the truck, but he set his jaw and strode over. “Come on,” he said. “Get up, and you can lean on me.”

  “Your back…”

  Oh, he remembered. How touching. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I like pain, remember? Just move it before I come to my senses.”

  After a long pause, Stone managed to stand. Roman got under him with one massive arm slung around his shoulders, and they limp-dragged across the field at a snail’s pace. His back was on fire by the time they reached the truck.

  He boosted Stone awkwardly into the passenger seat, and the truck sank a foot on the right side under the man’s weight. This would probably bust the already weakened springs. “I know a guy with a tow rig,” he said. “I’ll have him get your bike to you, but you’ll have to pay him.”

  “All right.”

  “From now on, do me a favor and lay off the booze.”

  If Stone had a response to that, Roman didn’t hear it. He slammed the door shut and stalked around the truck, biting back a scream. Telling himself he was better than Stone didn’t help. He didn’t want to fucking rise above it. He wanted to wallow in it—trade blood for blood, make the bastard suffer the same nightmares he’d been forced to endure long after it should’ve been over. But here he was saving his ass. Again.

  He hated the man for it. But most of all, he hated himself—because despite all he’d done to change it, he was still just as weak as Stone always said he was.

  Chapter 12

  Ozzy tried not to move. It wasn’t easy—the truck bounced around so much that if he wasn’t holding the handle above the door, he’d slide off the seat. Eventually the ride smoothed out, or he got used to the lurching motion, and he relaxed a little. But he pushed the seat as far back as it would go, so he wouldn’t break his legs if they made any sudden stops.

  Blade hadn’t said a word since he started driving. Usually silence suited Ozzy just fine, but he felt that keeping quiet might not be the best option this time. So he drew a careful breath, and said, “Thanks.”

  The other man shot him a glare, then faced front again. “You’re welcome.”

  “You forgot to tell me what a bastard I am.”

  “I will next time.”

  Ozzy sighed. It was pointless trying to talk to Blade, but apparently they were stuck working together for a while. This absolute fury had to stop. Apologizing hadn’t done any good, and he definitely didn’t speak Blade’s language on any subject.

  But he could try explaining his point of view and hope there was an ounce of reason in there under all that rage. He knew there had been once. They’d been something like friends for a while before the end, to the extent that a couple of convicts could be friends — or at least they hadn’t been constantly at each other’s throats.

  “Do you know why I was in prison?” he said.

  Blade snorted. “Criminal mischief. Ask me something hard.”

  “I’m innocent.”

  “Oh, please,” Blade said. “Whatever violent and destructive thing you were accused of, you did it. Just like I did what they said I did. They might have twisted it around on you, but nobody in there is innocent.”

  Ozzy’s fists clenched hard. He knew how unbelievable it sounded. But ranting and raving about it would only make it worse, so he forced himself to stay calm. “I was framed,” he said. “By someone a lot like you.”

  “Excuse me?”

  At least the deadly cold in Blade’s voice said he had the man’s attention. He’d never told this story to anyone but his JAG attorney — who’d first laughed at him, and then informed him that if he ever breathed a word of it in court, he was likely to find himself shot to death before the trial ended.

  But he’d done his time. Been dishonorably discharged. As far as the Army was concerned, he didn’t exist anymore. So he’d risk the truth. Worst case, maybe Blade would think he was nuts and back off.

  “We had a full colonel on base,” he said. “Matthew Fischer. He was also chief technical officer. I’d guess you know what that is.”

  “You’re not endearing yourself here.”

  “Just listen. Please.”

  When Blade didn’t say anything more, Ozzy continued. “One night Colonel Fischer was off-base, and there was a serious system failure that shut half the base power off. Fischer was the only one with the right access. No one could get in touch with him, but he’d taken a Jeep from the motor pool.”

  “They’re LoJacked, right?” Blade sounded reluctantly interested. “So somebody traced his location.”

  “Yes. One of the techs tracked the vehicle to a residential address, and base command sent me to get the colonel. But the place was boarded up, overgrown, dark and dead. Abandoned. I was about to leave when I spotted the tail end of a Jeep behind the house.”

  He closed his eyes, not fond of remembering the rest of the story. His hand had gone unbidden for the pocket with his flask. Pulling away wasn’t easy, even though he knew it was empty. “So I went in,” he said. “I knocked first. No one answered, but the place was unlocked. The only light inside came from behind a closed door. And I heard…a noise.”

  “Any particular kind of noise?”

  “Someone crying,” he said. “A woman.”

  “So you went to investigate.” Blade shook his head. “Suspicious noises in a spooky abandoned house is Horror Movie 101 shit. You probably should’ve left.”

  “I’m a soldier. Was, anyway. Investigating when something’s out of place is what we do.” He couldn’t bring himself to look at Blade, so he stared out the window. “The light was in the basement,” he said. “It was…a torture chamber down there. The girl was naked, tied to a chair. Bruised and bleeding everywhere.”

  “Jesus,” Blade said. “Are you serious?”

  He nodded. “She looked at me—she smiled at me. She asked if I was going to…instruct her.” A chill snaked down his spine as he remembered the awful blend of agony and ecstasy on her face, the tears she didn’t realize she was spilling. And the bizarre thing she’d first called him: Teacher. “I told her I was going to get her out of there. I went for the ropes, to untie her. And she started screaming.”

  They were just hitting town now, and Ozzy wasn’t sure he could keep talking. But he heard himself plunge ahead. “She said she’d asked for this. She deserved it, she wanted it. She begged me not to save her,” he rasped. “Then Fischer came down.”

  He got through the rest in a listless monotone. How the colonel had told him it wasn’t what he thought, and suggested it was in his best interests to have never seen the girl. How he’d decided that Fischer’s twisted sex games needed to be reported—but he’d been arrested the next day, before he could get into official channels. They said he’d destroyed an entire store room full of supplies. They had a surveillance video that showed him going inside, followed shortly by crashing and breaking sounds. His voice could be heard yelling between some of the crashes.

  Conveniently, the interior camera had been down at the time. Or so they said.

  Silence flooded i
n when he stopped talking. He expected Blade to laugh at him, or go off on him. Instead the man let out a sigh and said, “Congratulations.”

  Ozzy waited for the rest.

  “You’re the only innocent felon I’ve ever met.”

  “You believe me?”

  “Only a crazy person could make up something that fucked up. And you strike me as disgustingly sane.” A muscle jumped along Blade’s jaw. “But let’s get something straight here,” he said. “I am nothing like your scumbag colonel.”

  “I’m starting to see that,” Ozzy said quietly.

  “But you didn’t see it when you went in,” Blade said. His hands clenched tight on the steering wheel. “You were framed by a tech guy who got off on beatings, and they stuck you in a cell with a tech guy who got off on beatings. Jesus, no wonder you hated me.”

  Ozzy was struck speechless. He’d never put it together that way—but that was it. Blade represented everything that had conspired to kick him out of the Army, take away what had been his entire life, and destroy any prospect for a future. All because he’d tried to save someone who didn’t want to be saved…the way Blade didn’t want to be saved from the brutes and bullies in prison.

  Blade slowed and turned onto Ridgeway Drive. The suspicion that something wasn’t right tugged at the back of Ozzy’s mind, but before he could decide what it was, Blade suddenly jerked stiff and picked up speed. “Get down,” he snapped. “Now.”

  Ozzy reacted instinctively to the command, sliding down in the seat and pressing as far as he could into the foot well. He managed to get below window level. “You’d better have a reason for this,” he whispered harshly.

  “Stay there, or we’re both dead.” Blade produced a cell phone from somewhere and hurriedly fitted a single-ear headset in place. “This is just for show,” he said. “I need to look like I have a reason to talk.” He let out a long breath and slowed the truck again. “Look, Stone…you can’t go home right now. I guess you’ll have to come with me.”

  All at once, Ozzy knew what had bothered him. “What the hell’s going on?” he said. “And how do you know where I live?”

  Chapter 13

  For a minute Roman was too preoccupied to process what Stone had said. Until he could turn off Ridgeway, he had to make sure Shep wasn’t following them.

  He’d spotted the Jag thanks to his long-standing habit of looking into shadows. There was a small self-storage place at the top of the street. He actually had a unit there he’d been renting for the last two years. Usually all the buildings were lit up—for security, and in case someone had a burning need to fetch Grandma’s armchair or their Beatles record collection in the middle of the night. But the floodlights had been out on two of the buildings. And just for a second, when he turned onto the road, his headlights had picked out Shep’s car parked between them.

  Finally he reached Petunia Avenue and turned left, back in the direction they’d come. In a few blocks he could cut over to Lautner, drive through the back parking lot of the mini-strip mall and reach the bypass that connected the nice section of town to the dumps.

  No headlights were behind them. “All right,” he said. “You can get up.”

  Stone pulled himself back onto the seat with a thunderous expression. “Explain,” he said. “Now.”

  Shit. One thing or the other, he might’ve been able to pass off. But knowing where Stone lived and spotting Shep nearby made it almost impossible for Roman to keep himself out of the equation. “You told me your address back at the field,” he said. “You must’ve been too drunk to remember.”

  “No, I didn’t tell you. Accidents have a sobering effect.”

  “Fine. I looked it up.”

  “Never mind that right now,” Stone said. “What. The hell. Happened.”

  Roman sighed. “Remember your buddy Shep?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, he was laid up for you at that self-storage place. I saw his car.”

  Stone snorted. “He’s all bark,” he said. “I can handle him. Take me back.”

  “It’s not him you have to handle.”

  “I don’t care how many friends he brought.”

  “Damn it, that’s not the problem!” He forced himself to calm down. The only way out of this was the truth, but he doubted Stone would believe he’d planned to double-cross Shep. He’d have to be careful with the explanation. “Here’s the thing,” he said. “Shep wants you dead, but he doesn’t want to get caught killing you. So he’s planning to make it look like an accident. Him being there probably means he’s got your place rigged, and he’s waiting to push a button.”

  Stone went very still. “How do you know that?”

  “Because he told me.”

  “And you were going to let him.”

  “Does it look like I was going to let him?” Roman ground out. “If I was, I would’ve just dropped you off and went on my merry way.”

  Stone glared at him. “You didn’t plan to bring me home tonight.”

  “All right, asshole. You want to know the truth?” He was just coming up to the strip mall, and decided it was a good enough place to have it out with Stone. He rolled into the back lot, jerked to a stop under a light post, and killed the truck’s engine. “Get out,” he said. “I’m not doing this where I can’t defend myself.”

  Without waiting for a response, he opened his own door and jumped out, then slammed it shut.

  After a minute he heard the passenger door open. The truck bounced and jolted as the big man exited, and the slow beat of his boots on the pavement was a hangman’s drum. He fully expected Stone to attack once he told him the whole story. But since he’d just been in an accident, Roman might have an advantage.

  Stone came around the back of the truck and stopped several feet away. “All right,” he said. “What’s the truth?”

  Roman hesitated for just a second. “Shep told me his plans because he wanted my help,” he said. “He asked…okay, he demanded that I watch your place and find the best way to get to you.” He looked straight at Stone. “And I agreed.”

  “What?”

  “I set up cameras in your place,” he said. “He was supposed to wait for my reports. And I was going to doctor the tapes, feed him false information. String him along until I could figure out how to stop him for good. I don’t know what set him off and made him go ahead without me.”

  Stone’s features clouded. “So you were spying on me to save my life,” he said with dripping sarcasm. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because he doesn’t deserve revenge on you,” Roman said. “I do.”

  “Goddamn it, why?” Stone took a step forward. “I know I was hard on you sometimes, but it was for your own good. So you could protect yourself.”

  “My own good?” He could barely spit the words out.

  “Yes. You were finally making progress, too. Not running out of breath after ten minutes on the machines.” Stone folded his arms and looked away. “I started to respect you,” he said. “Turned out I shouldn’t have, since it landed me in solitary for four months.”

  “Solitary!” He couldn’t stop the bitter laughter that came out of him, or the cold rage that drove him to close the distance between them and grab Stone by the shirt. “I left that place in a goddamned ambulance,” he snarled. “The doctors had to rearrange my intestines before they sewed me shut. I had six broken bones in various places, and I almost lost my left eye.” He yanked him closer. “I needed stitches in my rectum. Can you guess why that might’ve been, or should I fucking spell it out for you?”

  A horrified expression flashed across Stone’s face. “What happened to you?”

  “Don’t you fucking play dumb!” Roman smashed him against the side of the truck and let go, hoping he’d fall. He didn’t—but there was no stopping now. “Mullins. Todd. Hutcherson,” he said. “The Lords of the Weight Room. Remember them? Your guard buddy Shawn locked them in with me.”

  “Why would he—”

  “You know go
ddamned well why.” The nightmare images flashed through his mind. “They spent six hours beating me. Raping me. Over and over.” His vision blurred, and his breath came in harsh gasps. “And they said I had you to thank for it.”

  “Oh, God.” Stone’s voice scraped like sandpaper. “Blade…I didn’t send them after you.”

  “Bullshit!”

  “I was in solitary for fighting,” Stone said. “With Mullins, Todd, and Hutcherson. They were talking shit about you using the weight room, about how pathetic you were and how they ought to teach you that pussies didn’t belong in there, and…I stood up for you. So they tried to jump me.”

  “No.” Roman backed up a step and almost stumbled. “No, that’s not right.”

  “They tried,” Stone repeated. “They failed—and they were humiliated. Three of them, one of me. They couldn’t even touch me. That’s why I got solitary and they didn’t.” He closed his eyes briefly. “I never knew they went after you. But it was because of me.”

  Roman shook his head fiercely and backed up again. “You stood up for me?”

  “Yes.” Stone let out a breath. He almost looked like he might cry. “I am so sorry. I swear, I didn’t know anything about it.”

  “Goddamn it.” Something in him shattered, and suddenly he was more exhausted than he’d ever been. He wasn’t ready to forgive the man completely—but maybe he could stop actively plotting Stone’s demise. For now. “Well, don’t do me any more fucking favors,” he managed to say. “Your last one almost killed me.”

  “Blade—”

  “Relax. It was mostly a joke.” He grimaced and looked at the truck, then out to the street. No traffic around yet. “We’d better get out of here,” he said. “Tell you what. I’ll bring you to my place, and we can check out the feed from yours. If there’s nothing waiting to blow you to bits, I’ll take you home and you can pound Shep into paste. Deal?”

  Stone actually smiled. It was kind of scary. “Deal.”

  “Let’s go.”

  As he got back into the driver’s seat and waited for Stone, Roman was surprised to find there wasn’t much anger he needed to push back down. For the first time in years, he almost felt free.