“Nice dress.” The back of his finger trailed softly down my arm.
My heart spasmed as he stepped around me, his finger traveling over the exposed skin at my back.
“It used to belong to my wife, you know.”
I swallowed, tears burning my eyes.
He stopped in front of me, his expression turning stone cold before he raised his hand in a flash and cracked it across my cheek.
I stumbled back, clutching at my face.
“She was a slut, too.” He grabbed my arm, pulling me against him. “And I had to teach her some very tough lessons.”
He grabbed my face, his thumb and forefinger digging into my cheeks.
“My daughter trusts you, but I do not think she should. I will not allow her to associate with liars and whores.”
Breaths shot through my nostrils, puffing onto his hand. His gaze grew even more malignant, the next layer of his mask disintegrating and showing me the delight he’d take in punishing me.
Fear was pulsing through me in such violent waves I thought I might pass out.
There was no escape from this.
There was no Kaplan.
No Rhodes.
No Eric.
43
Eric
“What the hell are you doing here?” My jaw was clenched so tight I thought my teeth might fracture.
Seeing my father standing there after all this time made me sick.
“Saving your life.”
My brow furrowed. I hated that I owed him that. I hated that I looked like him. I hated that I was his son.
Gramps had been my real father.
My eyes flicked to the table, my body convulsing as I took in his lifeless legs. Falling to my knees, I crawled over to him. His torso was coated in blood, his lips parted, his vacant eyes gazing at the ceiling. Shuffling my arm beneath him, I lifted his body against me.
“Gramps.” I choked out the words, pressing my lips against his smooth head and feeling the wail travel up my body. It exploded out of me, a loud anguished roar that made my muscles tremble. The sound melted away to be replaced with a desolate whine.
My fingers dug into his shoulders, clutching him to me as tears singed my eyes. I squeezed them shut, sobs shaking my entire body. I held them in, my anguish vibrating through my muscles in silence.
This couldn’t be real. He couldn’t be gone.
“Son, we have to keep moving. It’s not safe here.” Dad’s voice cracked as he crouched down in front of me, gently wriggling Gramps out of my grasp. I would have fought him if I hadn’t been shaking so badly.
Dad laid his father on the floor. Sorrow washed over his expression as he carefully closed his father’s eyes.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner, Pop.” His lips wobbled. “I’m sorry.”
I wanted to push him away. He had no right to speak to Gramps that way.
Get here sooner? Where the hell had he been all these years?
I looked over at the two dead bodies.
“Who are they?” My whisper was metallic.
“My past.” Dad’s voice came out rough and gravely. “I’ve tried to avoid this happening for the last eight years, but it’s catching up with me. I’m sorry.” He stood tall and brushed a hand over his face. “Grab your stuff, just the essentials. We need to keep moving.”
My glare was black and menacing as I slowly rose to face him. “What the hell is going on?”
“I don’t have time to explain right now.” Dad raised his hands. “But you have to come with me.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” I stepped away from him. “I’ve gotta go get Caity.”
I’d just lost the most important man in my life; I wasn’t about to lose the most important woman.
Charging into my room, I whipped off my bloodstained shirt and dropped it on the floor. My eyes burned. That was Gramps’s blood.
Sucking in a breath, I forced myself to turn away and snatch yesterday’s shirt off the end of my bed. Yanking it on, I grabbed my wallet and the rest of my gear.
Dad stayed hot on my heels.
“Don’t be an idiot. Eric! You think these are the only two? There’ll be more men out to get you.”
“Why?” I wrenched my bag out from under the bed and scowled at him.
He gripped the doorframe, his head drooping with a heavy sigh. “Because I was a foolish man and I stole from the wrong guy...and now that they know you exist, they’re gonna make you pay for it.”
My jaw worked to the side as I tried to absorb his words.
I wanted to launch into a diatribe about what a fucking loser he was, but I didn’t want to waste the time. I made a move to shove past him, but he blocked my way.
“Please, you have to come with me. Let me hide you. Keep you safe.”
“I’m not running away. My only concern now is Caity. She needs me, and I’m not going to abandon her just to save my own ass.” I shoved his shoulder but he sprung back, grabbing my shirt.
His sharp, angular features grew hard. “You think that’s what I did?”
“I don’t give a shit why you left.” I tried to wriggle free of his grasp but he fought me, clinging tight. Using my shoulder, I shoved him back against the wall.
The air was knocked from his lungs and I took advantage of his weakened state, driving my fist into his cheek. His head spun back, blood spurting from his nose as he crumpled to the floor.
Leaping over him, I raced out of the house, not even sparing a final look at Gramps. I had to get Caity. That could be my only focus or I’d combust, burn up in a fiery hell of knowledge.
My life was splintering around me and the only thing I had left was my girl.
Revving the engine, I spun my jeep out of the driveway and sped to L.A.
44
Caitlyn
A malicious smile curved the edges of Mendez’s lips. He still held my face, making my teeth cut into my cheeks. I blinked, desperately trying to figure a way out. His face was giving me nothing. There was no goodness to play on, there was no shred of anything I could appease to make him think twice about this.
Maybe Quella.
He had a soft spot for her.
My mind groped for something to say.
He let me go, shoving me away from him before back-handing me. I fell to the floor, sobs quivering my belly. I felt like I was starring in a Spanish soap opera, except this time there would be no ad break to end the drama.
I kept my eyes on the ground, waiting for whatever would come next.
What did he plan to do with me?
Unlike Miguel, this guy was straight; I could tell by the way he eyed me as I walked into his house that first day.
Pressing my lips together, I tried to ease the shakes as he dug his fingers into my armpit and pulled me back to my feet. His hand was hard as he brushed the hair off my face, running his fingers down my neck and giving it a rough squeeze.
“I’m going to—”
There was a quick rap at the door.
“Quel!” he barked.
“Lo siento, Señor, pero sus asociados han llegado,” came a nervous reply.
I had no idea what she said, but he let me go. Stepping back, Mendez straightened his suit, adjusting his tie and stretching his neck before looking at me.
“We’ll finish this later.” He pointed at me. “Do not leave this room.”
He walked to the door and yelled something in Spanish. A few moments later, one of his guards appeared.
“Asegúrese de que ella se queda aquí.”
The guard nodded at him and eyed me curiously before closing the door. He obviously knew better than to question his boss...whatever the hell his boss had said. I was guessing it was something along the lines of don’t let her leave or I’ll kick your ass.
The silence left in the room was deafening; the only thing to break it was the flick of a lock on the adjoining room door. I raced toward it, tugging desperately, but it wouldn’t budge.
My legs bu
ckled. I crumpled to the floor, tears shaking my body. Gripping the carpet, I let out a soft moaning wail, panic stealing any sense of calm from me. My mind felt like hot mush, my thoughts floating in a black sea.
I had no idea what horrors awaited me or what Mendez might do when he got back from his meeting.
My head popped up.
His meeting.
Was that now? Was that what that lady had said?
Wait, asociados. Did that mean associates? As in business associates!
Hope spurted through me.
I scrambled to the bedroom door, clawing the carpet as I crawled. My dress caught on my knee, ripping the split. I tugged it free and bundled it against my belly, blundering to my feet. Pressing my ear against the wood, I waited—listening, hoping.
My breaths were erratic, punching out of me, begging my deliverance to come at any moment.
It started with a loud bang, a thud of a door and officers yelling.
“FBI, freeze!”
A sobbing laugh spurted out of my mouth.
Gunfire quickly followed and the screams of confused staff rang through the house. I yanked on the door trying to pull it open, but it was locked, as well.
“Shit.” I knelt in front of it, calling into the keyhole. “Please, let me out!” I pressed my ear against the wood again, then bent down to look under the door. “Is anybody there?”
There were no shadows; the guard must have left. I plopped onto my butt and spun around, leaning my head against the wood. I supposed I was safest in here anyway. The FBI would surely sweep the house and they’d find me.
Thank God it was over.
Hopefully they’d find the girls quickly and get them out of the terrifying fray.
The muffled shouts of FBI agents continued to swarm throughout the house. Machine gunfire punctuated the calls, a new wave of panic traveling through the house as Mendez’s men fought back.
My heart beat erratically, breaths shooting out of my nose.
And then it went silent.
I held my breath, praying no agents were injured in the short battle. Pressing my ear to the door, I strained to hear what was going on, but I couldn’t make out anything distinct, the muted noises blending into one messy sound.
There was a thud against the wood and I scrambled away from it.
Yes! The calvary!
It was over. I could go home.
Standing back, I blinked at tears of relief until the door flew open...and all hope failed me.
45
Caitlyn
My chest heaved as I took in the sight of Miguel, his broad frame filing the doorway. He stood there smirking at me; his intense gaze could strip paint. Mask or not, his expression was the same: he wanted me. I could only guess what for. All I knew with definite certainty was that he had absolutely no intention of handing me over to the FBI.
I whimpered, spinning for the adjoining door. Wrapping my hands around the handle, I shook it violently and banged the wood.
“Help me!” I screamed.
My cries were silenced swiftly. His strong hand wrapped around my mouth, squeezing me into submission as a cold, metal edge caressed my neck. It felt like a knife, a big sharp one that could slit my throat in a second.
“Do not make another sound.”
My head bobbed and I let him shuffle me back toward the main bedroom door. Peeking out into the hallway, he began running us along the corridor when the sound of scurrying feet started up the stairs.
“I want each room checked and cleared!”
Rhodes!
My eyes grew wide with elation. He was coming. He’d find me.
Miguel quickly backtracked, ducking into Quella’s room and heading for the mirrored closet. I tried to struggle before he dragged me in there and closed the wall behind us, but the point of his knife made my body acquiesce. The sharp sting was only a small taste of what he’d do to me if I screwed this up for him.
Scuffling feet entered the room. Miguel went still, pulling me against him and digging the knife a little further into my skin.
The instinct to stay alive beat through me, slamming into my aching head.
A trickle of blood oozed down my neck. It tickled as it trailed over my skin, but I dared not move. Biting my lips together, I stayed statue-still as the men swept the room.
I figured Miguel was waiting for them to leave before making his way down the stairs. He didn’t want to make any noise behind the wall and alert anyone. If I did, he’d slit my throat before they could even get to me. At least if I stayed with him, there might be a chance of escape. Kaplan said the house was surrounded; they could pick us up in Miguel’s getaway car.
“Clear!”
“Clear!”
“Good, check the next room.”
Tears popped onto my lashes as I heard Rhodes’s voice.
A cellphone rang. Miguel tensed, his arm around my torso squeezing hard. He was growing impatient.
“Yeah, Rhodes....uh-huh...Excellent.” I heard the smile in his voice. “They found the girls.”
I closed my eyes. In spite of my current status, relief flooded through me.
They were safe.
My mission was complete.
“Copy that,” Rhodes said. “I’ll keep searching up here for any other occupants.”
Please find me! Search a little harder!
Someone stepped into the room. “Both rooms clear, sir.”
“Okay.” Rhodes sounded hesitant. “Any sign of Caitlyn Davis yet?”
My chest heaved and the urge to scream was nearly too strong to resist. The knife dug in so hard, I flinched. A whimper sounded in my throat and Miguel’s hand came back over my mouth.
“I will kill you,” he breathed into my ear.
“....Quella Mendez is already with the men downstairs.”
“Does she know anything?”
“No, sir. She said her friend was sick and went upstairs to lie down.”
“Well, she must be up here somewhere then. We’ll sweep the rest of the rooms and if we can’t find her, bring Quella up here for questioning. I’m not leaving without Davis.”
“Yes, sir.”
We waited out the shuffling feet and remained still even after the room was silent. Miguel must have been counting or something, because I heard him finally mutter, “Cien” before yanking me down the stairs.
He set a quick pace and I ended up tripping down the last few stairs and twisting my ankle. He had no patience, throwing me roughly over his shoulder. I beat his back and screamed while I got the chance, but he took the blows without flinching.
No one came running down the stairs to find me; my cacophony went unnoticed and was rapidly silenced when he dumped me into the trunk of a car.
“No, wait!”
The lid slammed shut and I was shrouded in darkness. The engine rumbled to life and the car screamed out of the garage. I was knocked around, whacking the back of my head before being thrown forward and jamming my fingers as I tried to stop myself from smashing into the hard edging.
I whimpered and cried, terror eating away at the air in my lungs. As we sped to who knew where, my body was tossed and thrown about like a Raggedy Ann doll. I wasn’t measuring the time, but it felt like we sped along for nearly an hour. I waited desperately for the car to stop, for some kind of roadblock to discover me.
As soon as the car slowed and pulled to the side, I began my scream-fest. “Let me out! Someone help me!”
The trunk popped open. The sky was a dusky blue, the sun setting in the distance.
“Shut up!” Miguel slapped me.
I bit the edge of my cheek, tasting blood. I was tempted to spit it at him, but another face appeared.
Shadow Man.
He gazed down at me, his expression hard and stony.
I tried to pull his mask free but before I could, his hand reached toward me. There was a white cloth in it. I struggled away, slapping at him, Miguel caught my wrists and wrenched them clear.
H
olding the top of my head steady, Shadow Man pressed the cloth over my mouth and nose until my violent struggling turned to slop. My arms went limp, my head lolling to the side, and the world around me fuzzed.
“She’s worth at least a hundred thousand. My debt is now clear.”
The distorted voice crackled in my ear and then faded into silence, oblivion capturing me in a cruel hold.
46
Eric
I made it back to L.A. by nightfall. Pulling into my driveway, I shoved up the hand brake and leapt from the car, nearly leaving my keys in the ignition. I wrenched them free and dove up the stairs, wrestling the front door open.
“Scott!”
I’d tried calling him every fifteen minutes on the way up, but his phone was off.
“Scott, you home?” I strode down to his room, flinging the door open.
Piper gasped, clutching a sheet across her naked body. “What the hell, Eric! Don’t you knock?”
“Sorry,” I muttered, looking at the floor. “Where’s Scott?”
“Here.” I spun around and saw him standing behind me. A towel was wrapped around his waist and his hair was wet and spiky.
“I’ve been trying to call you,” I snapped, frustration and embarrassment making my voice sharp.
“Oh, yeah, sorry, Piper and I were...” He pointed through the doorway, trailing off as he caught his fiancee’s pointed expression. He cleared his throat. “You got my message?”
“Yeah,” I breathed. “That’s why I’m here. Where is she?”
“I don’t know.” Scott winced, looking a little sick over the whole thing. “She said she was going out of town with Quella, right? But she didn’t tell me where.” He flicked his thumb down the hallway, indicating my room. “She left you a note.”
I busted past him, lunging into my room and snatching the note off my bed.
Tearing into it, I quickly scanned the words and plonked onto the mattress.
Sorry to put you through this, but I’m working an undercover job and this is the only way to keep you safe.
Snake Eyes Page 24