Mycale spun on his heels and vanished, no sound followed his departure. Putting one hand over her heart and the other over her mouth, Sori breathe like she had just finished a run. She felt so undone she was shaking like an addict needing a fix, wondering how she let herself get to this point.
Although Mycale had electrified her nerves, her Spidey senses were on high alert. What in the hell had she picked up all of a sudden? After picking up her coat and purse, reaching for her car door was the last thing she did. The sting of chemicals burning her nose, mouth, and lungs overwhelmed her. She couldn’t fight the all-consuming blackness as it grabbed her and snatched her under with the force of a hurricane.
CHAPTER 25
Kill or Be Killed
Her eyes felt as heavy as two double D–sized breasts. Shit! Her head pounded, and her mouth felt like she had gargled with sand. The last thing she remembered was being deliciously molested by Mycale in the parking garage. Then, someone had covered her mouth and nose with a chloroform-soaked rag. She could still taste the stench of the familiar chemical in the back of her throat.
Now, the constant swaying movement and the tiny dirty window told her she was in the bowels of a dirty, dingy, and drafty ship or boat.
She shivered. The only warmth came from a dim light overhead. She was freezing her ass off and all she had on was a borrowed ball gown. They, whoever they were, hadn’t even bothered to give her a blanket. She shook off the chill and looked around for weapons while still trying to shake off the effects of the drug. She had no idea how long she had been here, but her sore muscles were screaming, Too long!
She wanted to know who in the hell had the balls to kidnap her and why. All she could think about was making someone’s life a living hell. Whoever it was, she was determined to make sure they were sorry they had chosen her. Nixing her internal rant of making someone’s life a living hell, she sought to find a way out of this room.
Shit, nothing.
She saw no way out and nothing to free herself with. She stared around her tiny prison cell–sized room, the walls mostly metal. A bucket in one corner was her bathroom. A dirty mattress in another corner was her bed. A gallon of water and eight packs of peanut butter crackers were her meals. Blessed that she could take a lot of pain, she tried several times to snap her thumb out of place to slip the cuffs they had left her in.
Really? I am only one little woman. What do they think I am going to do?
Seeing hope in the shabbiness of the walls, she backed herself up until she hit the wall. Taking the pointiest edge of her cuffs, she picked at a damaged piece of the wall. All she needed was a little piece of metal, just a sliver. After minutes of her scratching at the walls, a devious smile passed across her face; she had exactly what she needed.
* * *
Snooping, spying, and killing her captors, Sori had managed nearly three hours on the loose, by her calculation. Now she cursed into the back of a piece of duct tape with a gun at her head. Her dress had been ripped so badly it was nothing more than shimmering shards of material hanging on to varied parts of her now badly scraped and bruised body.
Her fearlessness had gotten her captured again. Maybe trying to take on three big-ass dudes with nothing more than the handcuffs still dangling from her right wrist hadn’t been the best idea.
Several good long jolts from a Taser had subdued her, zapped every ounce of energy she had. Lying on the cold and dirty deck, dirt and grime bit into her cheek as she fought to get air into her lungs. The fact that she had killed nine of their buddies didn’t make her captors want to hold hands and be friends. She saw hellfire in their eyes, all the flames aimed at her. She had left one from her favorite pair of stilettos’ planted four inches into the head of one of their buddies. She had planted her handcuff so deeply into one’s eye that most of his eye tissue still clung to the tip.
Now, she feared her nightmare was just beginning. The biggest of the three men grabbed her by the ankle and dragged her kicking and fighting from the ship’s loading dock down a flight of stairs, down a hall, and into what looked like the confined space of someone’s living quarters.
Her tailbone and shoulder had caught the brunt of the dragging, and felt as if someone had poured gas on her left ass cheek and shoulder and set them ablaze. Her left wrist screamed in pain from a break or fracture, and her right hip presented a three-inch gash that resembled an ugly smile, sliced down to the fatty white meat.
Fucking horny men!
Why must they use their penises to expel their anger? Two of the guys were standing over her, holding their dicks, while one secured the door. The sight of the scene unfolding in front of her was much worse than any ass kicking would ever have been. Her skin crawled under their heated gazes. She dry-heaved her disgust. She… you get the point.
Why don’t they just put a bullet in my brain and get it over with?
Like she was a ripe dead body at a buzzard convention, all three were standing over her now. At the sight of them dropping their pants, she nearly threw up in the back of her throat. They were total fucking dicks for what they were about to do to her. Speaking of dicks, one was average, one needed penis exercises, and one was hung like a bull.
She prayed they would let the one needing penis exercise go first.
What in the fuck am I saying? I need to find a way to make them kill me.
She had turned her emotions off so completely that she didn’t flinch when one pulled what was left of her dress off and flung it to the side. In only a strapless bra, thong, and one four-inch stiletto, she stared evil in the dick.
Mr. Average walked around her, grabbing her arms to keep her from fighting, while Mr. Needs Penis Exercises stood on the sideline, stroking himself. She waited until, of all people, Mr. Hung like a Bull pulled her legs apart roughly and slowly made his descent. He kept telling her over and over his plan of ripping her to pieces, and with his size, the threat held truth.
It was now or never. She chose now because she couldn’t accept suffering the most horrifying torture imaginable. She closed her eyes, and in that second of peace, she rallied strength, snapped her knees together, and brought them up with enough force that Mr. Hung like a Bull’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.
With a penis his size, she imagined the pain was likely ten times as intense. It felt like she had pushed her legs up against a two-by-four versus a man’s dick. Mr. Average made the mistake of turning her hands loose, and she rolled out of the way like an angry alligator before Mr. Hung like a Bull’s hand reached her neck. He held himself with one hand and was trying to kill her with the other hand.
Sori rolled into the wall only a few feet away, trying desperately to get her other shoe off, but she was too late. Mr. Needs Penis Exercises and Mr. Average jumped her, both punching and kicking her like she were a part of a gang initiation. She fought back, blocking some of their hits and landing some of her own. Just as she started to get the upper hand, something powerful took her breath—electricity. The currents seized her body. Instead of jerking and dancing, this time her body constantly seized, held in one stiff frying mass of flesh.
Mr. Hung like a Bull had the Taser, and this time, he wasn’t turning it off. The electricity ate at her like a million insects devouring her from the inside out. This was it; she was finally about to meet Death. Because of her, Death had taken up residence on this ship. She felt his presence and with all the death she had brought him this day and over the years, he may have been inclined to shake her hand before he took her soul.
Laying on her side, face kissing the floor, Sori no longer had control of her stiff and traumatized body. Feeling sparks of darkness snatch at her body, she realized she was truly done this time. Then, as if someone had flipped a switch, she was jerked backward into nothingness.
* * *
Day 3. All hell had broken loose aboard his ship. Now, at day 9, he was waiting to face hell. Captain Tarbel
l had participated in murder and in all sorts of illegal business, but none had ever brought him this amount of mayhem. Of all the people they could have taken, his men had come back with Super Bitch.
She had killed more than half of his crew. Now, the Captain had no idea how he was going to explain that the package they were supposed to be holding was dead.
How could one little woman be so much damn trouble? Their benefactor wanted her alive, had asked that she be held aboard his ship until he was available to pick her up. Now, with no way to contact his mysterious benefactor, the captain was swimming up shit creek naked.
She couldn’t have been a normal woman. She had eaten through his crew like a flesh-eating bacteria. Nine men dead. Some he couldn’t figure out what she’d killed them with, let alone, how she had killed them. She had literally turned his cargo ship into a floating tomb.
All they had been tasked to do was hold her under lock and key and hand her over when the time came. Now, Super Bitch was dead and they were down to the last six crewmen, barely able to maintain the ship.
The benefactor—no one knew his real name or where he was from. One of the now dead crewmen said he was called Padre. He was some big shot with an endless supply of money and a fetish for beautiful young women and men. This would have been Captain Tarbell’s third time working for the mysterious man. A few years ago, he had captured and held a young man for Padre. The very first time had been seven years ago, another beautiful woman. The captain had no idea what Padre did with these people after they were handed over, but for what he was paying, the captain would have handed his own mother over.
Now, he had no idea what was going to happen. He couldn’t very well hand the man a dead body. However, he feared that if he didn’t wait for this Padre and try to explain what happened, he would end up dead too.
The captain was now a day away from having to explain why they’d had to kill the woman. Locking her up didn’t work, beating her didn’t work, neither had handcuffs. She was a damn nightmare walking, her beauty a mask to trick you into believing she was innocent. But the captain had come face-to-face with her, and she was death walking. Staring into her eyes was like staring into a black hole of terror. He had only escaped her wrath when Roy shot her with that Taser. When he left, the men looked like they had everything under control and in less than an hour, the men informed him that they’d had to Taser her again, this time killing her.
* * *
Waking with a start, she couldn’t move. She was stuck and in total darkness. What the fuck! She was upright, but it felt like she’d been stuffed into a coffin. She wiggled her body as much as she could, but she felt stuck, crammed into a dark hard hole with little breathable oxygen. Metal, she was surrounded by metal and her body ached like she had been beaten repeatedly with baseball bats.
You gotta be kidding me!
Since wiggling didn’t work, she tried rocking her body, which seemed to make her tiny prison move. The more she rocked, the more the momentum picked up, and eventually she felt herself tipping over.
Yes!
The tomb popped open, but she was now stuck lying sideways. Like a stuck pig, she wiggled around until she freed herself. She was in a much larger place now, only small slivers of light shined through cracks as she struggled to regain her five senses. Now able to unfold her body, she felt mostly numb. She sat there for a few minutes until her circulation started to flow again. Finally managing to stand on wobbly legs, she fought to remain vertical. Her limited vision showed her that she had just rocked herself out of a fifty-gallon drum. The crewmen undoubtedly thought she had been dead. As bad as her situation was, she was thankful she hadn’t been dismembered.
How long had she been there? Were they planning to toss her overboard? She explored her surroundings and discovered she had been closed inside one of the many cargo containers aboard the ship. When her body regained its functions, the cold grabbed her and held firmly. Freezing her ass off in only a bra and panties, her surroundings didn’t provide anything but cold steel.
Once she figured a way out of the dark container, her first order of business was to find something to put on and figure out where the hell she was. She guessed—or at least hoped—they were still somewhere near DC.
Now running around a cargo ship in her underwear, she quietly limped her way to the boat’s edge. Seeing land put a chilly smile on her face. Daylight was fading fast, making the cold grab her like icy currents. If she had to guess, they were probably a quarter of a mile from land, and she didn’t know if she had the energy to swim if she were forced to. Although she could control her pain by flipping her switch, it did nothing to correct her body’s natural reaction to it. Pain dominated her body making her limp, shake, twitch, and slump, but her mind prevailed, and her friend pain was ignored. When she finally got the chance to open the door to the amount of pain she was blocking, her body would likely go into shock.
A big and dirty insulated coat along with a blow-up life boat bought her another chilly smile. Ready to make her great escape, she stopped herself from pulling the cord that would send air into her escape boat.
The agent in her had reared its ugly head. She had to find out more information. Who was behind her kidnapping and why? The longer she was upright and moving, the better she felt, or maybe it was the knowledge that she was going to go find somebody to torture. Who cared? They were the ones that had taken her.
As silent as carbon monoxide, she snuck her way into the captain’s wheelhouse. He was there, alone.
Good!
If the ax in her hand was any indication, she was going to get some got-damned information—or else. They didn’t call her Smoke for nothing. She was so good at sneaking up on people that the captain had no idea she stood right behind him until he looked up and caught her reflection in his instrument panel.
He spun quickly, giving her the chance to plant her ax in his shoulder. The ax chopped through his shoulder and stuck there. The sound of tearing flesh and rusty metal hitting bone instantly filled the captain’s face with agony and an unworldly shriek came from his mouth. The dirty heel of one of Sori’s feet connected with the man’s mouth before his scream alerted the others. She stood atop both his feet, keeping his legs in place, as she put both her hands around the planted ax handle.
Standing as if she were about to water-ski, she used the captain as her equipment. The captain was reluctant to move, fearing it would cause more pain. He shook his head slowly. Having seen her handy work, he knew how deadly she could be.
“No, please!” The captain begged.
She leaned in closer, her voice dripping with deadly intent, “Don’t make me fuck you up any more than I have to. Now, tell me what I want to know.”
His breathing harsh, he managed to say, “Okay.”
She asked, “Who is coming for me? Why? When?”
He spoke through harsh breaths, pain evident as it poured from his face. “I don’t know his real name. This is just business for me. We take people, store them here, and he picks them up.”
She wanted to plant the ax in his skull. “When is he coming here, you asshole? How many other people have you taken for him? What does he want with us?”
He stammered out his words, “You’re the third. I don’t know what he does with you. I don’t ask.”
Sori let death fill her eyes, and the captain’s terror-filled face let her know that he noticed the change. She asked in a loud voice, “What is his name? What does he want with us? Where is he coming from? What can you tell me about the other people you took for him?”
She could tell he couldn’t keep up with all the questions being fired at him. Glossed over eyes, he took a few harsh breaths before he spoke. “He’s coming today. We took a young man a few years ago and a young woman many years back.” He paused for a few seconds to think and said, “One of my crewmen said that he goes by Padre.”
This news h
ad Sori’s mind in a tailspin. The head of the TC. My most elusive target! Archer Santos’ deathbed confession had warned her that Padre would try to kill her or control her.
She twisted the handle of the ax and watched the captain grit his teeth. “What’s his real name? Where is he coming from? What does he look like?”
The captain looked like he was about to pass out. Labored breathing, he said, “I don’t know his name. He has a hard-to-determine race, mixed black and white or Spanish and French or something. I don’t know. He has an accent that I don’t recognize. No one knows where he comes from.”
She gripped the ax handle harder and twisted slowly, causing the captain excruciating pain. He was sweating profusely now and panting like a dog. She told him, “You have to give me more than that.”
His lips were quivering now. “PLEASE, PLEASE!”
She ignored his cries and kept twisting, hoping she could get something else out of him. She saw it, spotted it like a gold digger spots a sugar daddy.
The captain had thought of something. “The guys rumored that he consumes people, takes their souls, and leaves only an empty shell.”
Sori closed her eyes, rolling them in the back of her head. Fuck!
The pain was making the captain delirious, and he was now talking crazy. After that statement, Sori was sure she had gotten all she was going to get out of the captain. It was time she made her escape, before that elusive bastard Padre showed up. She needed to escape to try to catch him before he caught her.
Approaching footsteps told her she was out of time. A gunshot and bullet whizzing by her head had her running to the nearest exit. She didn’t even think about the swim as she ran to the edge and jumped overboard. Bullets chased her until she swam into the dark shadows of the water. The ice-cold water felt as if it were slicing and cutting her down to the bone.
She swam as fast as she could. Once she made it to shore, she ran, looking for the nearest phone. Technology is a motherfucker when you are desperate. It was hard to find a pay phone and even harder to get someone to give her a quarter. She looked so bad that the homeless chased her away from their fire. Wet, freezing, and wearing a stolen coat with no shoes, she was so cold she couldn’t feel most of her body.
Smoke & Fire - Adult Paranormal Romance Series, Book #1 Page 17