by Nic Saint
The deep voice rang out through the small cabin, and Alicia looked up at the towering figure of Roland Thornton with a mixture of hope and dread. God, no. He’d come back for her. Now he would die, along with her.
Chapter 9
Roland watched the scene with an incandescent eye. Alicia, naked and helpless stretched out on her tiny bed, with Bashar, that ugly fuck, grabbing her large fleshy breasts and two of his cronies spreading her legs and holding her down. Soft velvety black hair bedewed her mound, her delicate folds clearly on display. She was trembling visibly.
His face grim, he felt lucky to have followed his instincts on this one. No matter Kevin’s complaining, he felt they couldn’t leave the young woman to rot in this hellhole. Her work was nearly done, she’d said. Well, he decided it was done, and she was coming with them.
Tainted by contact with him, he knew it was only a matter of time before she’d receive a courtesy call from the cartel honcho himself, and he’d told Kevin in no uncertain terms it was his way or the highway. The young journalist had grudgingly acquiesced, and they’d doubled back as fast as they could.
Just in time, it seemed. He raised the gun he always kept on his person and aimed it straight at Bashar’s ugly face.
“Get off her, you fucking creep, before I blow your brains out.”
Shifty-eyed, like all crooked slimes, the fatso jerked back, his hands up, and grinned. “Easy, gringo. We’re all friends here, isn’t that right, Alicia?”
“Get off, fuckface!” she yelled, indicating there wasn’t much love lost between her and the cartel leader.
“You two. Against the wall,” Roland ordered. “Kev. Be so kind as to tie the gentlemen up, will you?”
Kevin, who’d appeared behind him, eyed him with obvious reluctance. “Go, son,” he encouraged him loudly.
“Yes, Dad,” muttered Kevin, and moved hesitantly over to where the two men stood scowling at them.
Alicia had quickly wrapped the sheet around her naked form, and helped Kevin find the necessary restraints.
“You’ll regret this, pendejo” sneered Bashar. “My men will hunt you down and feed you your testicles before they chop off your head and shove it up your ass.”
Roland eyed him levelly. “Now you see why you don’t have any friends, Bashar?”
Bashar spat at Roland’s feet. “Fuck you, Costner. Your days are numbered, my friend. And that goes for the rest of your family too.”
Roland reached out and struck the little turd with the butt of his gun. “One more word about my family and you can kiss this life goodbye.”
The drug dealer merely smiled. “You don’t know what’s coming, and I guess that’s a good thing. I can see into your future, Costner, and I shiver and weep. Good thing you don’t have the sight, like I do, or you’d be crawling on the floor crying for your mommy.”
Roland gritted his teeth and struck the vicious monster again. “What did I tell you?”
He glanced over to where Kevin and Alicia were busy working on the drug kingpin’s goons, wrapping them up tighter than a pair of mummies.
“Now do the same for mister blabbermouth over here,” he instructed.
“What are you going to do with him?” asked Alicia, wide-eyed.
“He’s coming with us,” Roland said simply, “and so are you.”
As he spoke the words, Alicia could see the inevitability of those words. She couldn’t stay here, not after what had happened. She would never be safe again. “But… what about my father?”
He eyed her levelly. “We’ll find your father, honey. But first we need to get you to safety.”
“I can’t go,” she said, shaking her head as she trussed up the fat swine that had tried to rape her. “Not without my dad.”
“Have you considered the fact he might be… gone?”
“He can’t be gone. Not without me, he wouldn’t. And if he’s dead, why haven’t his remains been found?”
“Poor papi,” intoned Bashar, casting her an evil glance. “What happened to dear old daddy, eh? Got lost in the woods, did he?”
“Shut up,” she grunted as she checked the man’s restraints, making sure he wouldn’t be able to get out of them.
Roland had approached the drug fiend, and pressed his gun to his forehead. “If you know where her father is, now’s the time to talk, Bashar.”
“How would I know?” he returned innocently. “What do I look like? The missing persons bureau?”
Roland’s jaw worked as he shoved the gun barrel into the guy’s mouth. “Talk, asshole, or lose the teeth.”
“You drive a hard bargain, my friend,” Bashar said around the gun. He blinked and nodded briefly. “Professor Sumner isn’t here. He’s in the States.”
Alicia let out a whimper. “What? He’s alive and well?”
Bashar shrugged. “Alive, yes. Well? Who the fuck cares?”
Roland gestured with the gun. “Where is he?”
Bashar eyed him viciously, then dropped his gaze. “Ask your friend Harlan. He took possession of him. God knows what he needed him for.”
Roland slowly turned to look at Alicia. “Harlan de Montesquieu,” he grunted. “Biggest piece of scum to ever crawl out of New York’s sewers.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Wonder what he needed your father for.”
“We have to get him back,” she suddenly pleaded. “Oh, Roland, help me get my father back, will you? I’ll do anything you want. Anything at all.”
Bashar emitted a short bark of mirth. “Great little whore, isn’t she?”
A vicious smack to the head shut the fat guy up, and Roland gave her a slow nod. “I’ll help you, Alicia. I’ll help you get your father back.”
“Look, can we get the hell out of here?” suddenly interjected Kevin. He was looking pale as the sheet Alicia had wrapped around herself. “I mean, before a couple dozen goons show up and turn this place into a war zone?”
“Great idea, buddy,” agreed Roland, and picked Bashar up as if he weighed nothing and slung him over his shoulder. “Let’s haul ass.”
Alicia stared around the small cabin that had been her home for the last year. “I need to—” She frantically started shoving stuff into a backpack. All her research papers, notebooks and other vital information. “I need to take all this.”
“No time,” growled Roland. “Kevin’s right for a change. Bashar’s men will be here any second, and when they do, they’ll turn us into Swiss cheese.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence. I guess,” muttered Kevin.
Alicia quickly gathered up as much stuff as she could.
“Um, Alicia?” Kevin’s voice sounded strained, and when she looked up, she saw the two men give her an odd glance. Especially Roland’s eyes had narrowed and his lips had parted slightly. Only now did she notice that in her hurry to pack up, she’d lost the sheet. She was completely naked.
“Oops,” she ejaculated, and slung her hands across her large breasts, then quickly retreated to a small closet where she kept her clothes. Getting dressed in a hurry, she blushed, feeling Roland’s eyes on her all the time. Strange thing was, she kinda liked it. And for a moment she wondered how it would feel if not only his eyes but those powerful fingers of his were on her as well.
She quickly slid into a pair of jeans and shrugged into a shirt. When she heard a car engine whine in the distance, she knew they were running out of time.
“Follow me,” she said, picking up her rifle. Roland shifted a still unconscious Bashar to his other shoulder and fell into step behind her, Kevin a close second.
One last glance over her shoulder told her things were as they should be. If her father was in the States, that’s where she should be.
Gratefully, she stepped out into the jungle and veered left, picking her way along a small trail only she knew the existence of, and before long, they were swallowed up by the thicket, loud voices raising Cain behind them.
She just hoped they’d make it out of here alive.
Chapte
r 10
Rolling hills soon replaced the obscurity and near unbearable humidity of the jungle, and she knew they were nearing the water. The path trailed all along the river, and they could travel it virtually undetected as long as they kept to the edge of the trees, where they could always duck into for cover.
“Better if we’d had a car,” opined Kevin.
“Better if I didn’t have to carry this piece of trash,” grumbled Roland, who was still hoisting the cartel leader.
Bashar had come to a little while back, but Roland had quickly knocked his lights out again.
“Perhaps we can leave him behind?” suggested Alicia.
He pursed his lips. “Nope, I’m fine. And I’m not leaving him behind. He’s far too valuable for us.”
“What are you going to do with him?”
“Turn him over to the authorities, eventually. But first he’s going to come in handy when I negotiate the release of your father.”
She briefly laid her hand on his arm. “Thank you. For everything.”
She’d never expected to be trudging through the jungle with two men she’d never met before this day, but here she was, finally going home after all these years, and feeling ecstatic about the fact that her father was still alive. She just hoped he was all right, and that Harlan de Montesquieu hadn’t harmed him.
“Let’s head down now,” she said, gazing at the gently rippling waves below. They were standing on a small ridge overlooking the valley, and she could see the boat belonging to a friend of hers moored at anchor. “My friend Raymond will bring us the rest of the way.”
They made their way down the narrow slope, Roland more carefully than the others, for he had to navigate the steep incline with an extra weight strapped to his shoulders. Finally, they arrived on the banks of the river, the lush green giving way to a sandy road that ran along the river. They quickly crossed it and she preceded them to the small boat fastened to the riverbank. Hopping on board, she rapped her knuckles on the iron door to the wheelhouse, hoping Raymond would be home.
The man, an old friend of her father, had actually made this boat his home, and made a living by taking people into town when they needed to, and acted as a supplier of any merchandise he could lay his hands on, buying in one place and selling in another. Though never drugs, a substance he abhorred.
Before she could apply her knuckles to the doorframe again, the door had swung open, and she was surprised to find not her friend Raymond in attendance but a swarthy man with distinct features swinging a rather large gun in her face.
“What do you want!” the man demanded.
“What—where’s—” The words caught in her throat.
Roland, who’d dumped Bashar for the moment, stepped beside her, leveling his own gun at the little man. “The question is, What the hell are you doing on someone else’s property?”
The man’s eyes went wide, and he dropped his gun. It clattered to the aisle floor as he raised his hands high over his head. “My property! This is my boat!”
Roland tsk-tsked softly. “Not according to the lady. Where’s—what was his name again?”
“Raymond,” she ventured. “This is Raymond’s boat, so what are you doing on it?”
“I bought it,” the little guy quickly said. “Bought it fair and square.”
“That’s not possible,” said Alicia, turning to Roland. “Raymond would never sell his boat. It’s his home, his livelihood, his everything.”
The guy started prattling something in Spanish, then abruptly shut his mouth when Roland wagged the gun in his face. He eyed it intently, eyes crossing as it moved closer to his nose.
“You heard. Raymond would never sell his boat. So where is he?”
“Out. He’s out for the moment. Don’t expect him back for at least another week.”
“Great,” said Roland, letting his gun hand drop by his side. “Then you won’t mind taking us to Guatamore, do you?”
“Guatamore? I ain’t going to Guatamore,” the man countered nervously.
“Not even if we paid you?”
The man licked his lips, dollar signs appearing in his eyes, then sighed wearily. “No good. Can’t navigate this boat, can I? Raymond’s the one handles the boat. I’m just here to take care of him, ain’t I?”
Roland frowned. “Wait, let me get this straight. You’re… Raymond’s caretaker?”
The guy shrugged. “Something like that. Raymond won me in a poker game.”
Alicia eyed the man incredulously. “Won you in a poker game?”
“Guess so. My previous owner was all out of money so he decided to throw me in in a win-or-lose-all kind of gambit.” He grinned sadly, displaying a row of crooked teeth. “Guess he lost.”
“So where is Raymond?” Alicia urged. “I’m one of his best friends? Alicia Sumner? He must have mentioned me.”
The guy’s face cleared. “The professor’s daughter? That’s you?” He reached out and grabbed Alicia’s hand and pressed it eagerly. “Raymond told me all about you, señorita. You’re a miracle worker.”
“Raymond has an alcohol problem,” she added as an aside for Roland. “Sometimes when he’s on a binge, he calls me to nurse him back to sobriety.”
“He’s sober now,” stated the little guy. “Stopped drinking. His drug of choice now is poker. He’s at a poker tournament right now. Down in Guatamore.”
“Why didn’t he take the boat?”
The guy laughed. “Afraid to lose it, isn’t he? Can’t gamble the boat if it’s out here in the sticks.”
“Good thinking,” muttered Roland.
“Raymond used to be one of Dad’s colleagues,” explained Alicia. “He was a professor of mathematics but grew tired of the bureaucracy and what he called the artificiality of the academic life. When Dad and I came out here, he decided to follow in our footsteps and took early retirement.” She turned to the man. “What’s your name?”
“Pablo,” he said simply, and she decided the liked him.
Only trouble was, if Pablo couldn’t navigate the boat and Raymond was gone, there was no way to reach the city unless they stole a car or hiked the distance.
Suddenly a soft yelp rang out behind them and when they turned to look, they found Kevin lying sprawled out on the bank of the river, and the quickly retreating form of Bashar disappearing into the middle distance.
Chapter 11
“So now what do we do?”
Roland pursed his lips as he stared at the unconscious form of his ‘son’. “Feels like a weight is lifted off my shoulders, to be honest. Dude was heavy.”
“But didn’t you need him?”
“Guess I don’t have a choice in the matter; he’s gone and taken himself out of the equation.” He eyed Alicia and placed a hand on her arm. “Don’t worry. He won’t escape his deserved punishment.”
Alicia thought back to the harrowing scene at her cabin and shivered in spite of the heat. If Roland hadn’t shown up, she wouldn’t be here now, for that he was planning to murder her as soon as he’d had his way with her, she didn’t doubt for a minute.
“Who was that guy?” asked their new friend Pablo.
Roland didn’t mince words. “A piece of scum. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to take a look at the bridge.”
“Sure.” Pablo stepped aside to let the tall, lean form of Roland pass.
The man had to duck to fit into the doorframe Alicia noticed. She followed him in, then suddenly remembered the unconscious Kevin still lying on shore and turned around.
She knelt down by the water and scooped up a handful, then carefully carried it over to where the young man lay and splashed it on his face. To her satisfaction, the treatment proved efficacious, as Kevin blinked, sputtered, then opened his eyes and yelped, “He’s getting away!”
She knelt down beside him and patted his arm. “He got away, all right. How’s the head, son-of-Roland?”
Kevin tried to focus on his surroundings, then seemed to recognize her and produced a goo
fy smile. “Thanks for that.” Then he frowned as her words registered. He turned to the road. “What? He—he got away?”
“Yup. I’m afraid so. Must be halfway home by now.”
He flapped his hands up and down like a wayward chicken. “But-but-but-but—”
“Exactly what your father said, only you’re so much more eloquent. Tell me, have you always been father and son?”
He stared at her, not comprehending. “Roland? Father? He ain’t my father. I thought you knew. Not by a long shot he ain’t.” He barked a short laugh. “Can you imagine that guy being anyone’s father? Pity the child who lands Roland Thornton as a dad.”
What began as a gentle taunt turned serious, all of a sudden. She frowned, folding her arms over her knees. “I actually think he’d be a great dad.”
He opened his mouth to speak, then looked at her with bewilderment, closed his mouth again, opened it again, and said, “You have got to be kidding. The guy’s a maniac. I’ve been with him only a month and I’m ready to see a shrink. The moment I file my story I’m taking a long vacation and going into therapy.”
“I think he’s swell,” she said softly. “He saved my life, you know.”
“I’m sure that was just an afterthought. First thing on that man’s mind is protecting the interests of his family. He probably thought you hadn’t given us all the information you could, so he came back to pound on you some more.”
“Pound…” The thought of Roland pounding on her did much to lift her spirits. She wondered if he was as strong and powerful down there… where it counted. She blushed when she thought back to his face when he’d gazed down at her naked form. He’d seen her naked, hadn’t he? Absolutely naked, held down by two strong men, her legs spread open… God, she groaned inwardly. She’d really been on display.
“I think Roland Thornton is certifiable,” Kevin was still droning on. “But I guess it comes with the territory. You don’t run interference for one of the wealthiest families in the country and don’t get damaged as a consequence. Do you know that he’s killed people? I mean, actually spilled the blood of his enemies? Who does such a thing? In my book he’s no better than Don Corleone.” He frowned. “Though if you want to be precise he would probably be Sonny.”