“What’s your name?”
“Shayla.”
“Will anybody else be joining you?”
“No. Just me.”
“Why don’t you take a look around in the gift shop next door while you wait?” The waitress pointed to an adjoining shop, which bore the sign CANDLES AND CANDIES.
“Sounds good.” Candles and candy—two of her favorite things.
The gift shop had uniquely scented candles, the licorice and juniper ones smelling amazing. Displayed on a tall carved wooden bookcase were ornate candle holders and funky lighters. Then there was the candy. The shop had real candy with real ingredients, not the grocery-store-aisle stuff. So yeah, she planned on buying a few things and hoping the gift shop had a website she could order from for later too.
Her phone chimed in her back pocket as she stood in line with a basketful of items. A text had come in from Sue, Brass Cat’s receptionist, office manager, and minor equipment-malfunction repairwoman.
CLICK THIS LINK! SIMPLY ENTERTAINMENT BEING INVESTIGATED!!
The link she clicked showed footage of the producer of Simply Entertainment saying “no comment” over and over after being asked questions such as “Did you know you were supposed to report all moneys received from other countries?” and “Did you know that publicly slandering guests on your show with no proof would garner this many lawsuits?”
The reporter covering the investigation story informed the audience that Simply Entertainment was being shut down, effective immediately, due to several violations, many occurring from lawsuits and backlash from the Weird World segment.
Guess I’m not the only one they pissed off, she texted Sue.
Another text came in from Sue.
I just read this. Scary!
Shayla read a screenshot of Hunter’s Finding Hidden Truths blogsite. The tone was nothing short of pissed and vengeful. In his most recent post, he vowed to find the people responsible for making false claims against Simply Entertainment, specifically the Weird World segment.
There is proof that genetically altered humans exist, and I will get the proof one way or another. That was his enigmatic promise to his loser readers. The next sentence she read gave her chills. There’s a woman out there with answers to some of our greatest questions. Today, you’ll get your answers, readers, or she will be held accountable. Suddenly, she wasn’t hungry anymore. She put her basket on the counter and told herself to pull it together and make sure she held on to her pepper-spray key chain when she sat next to Hunter.
How do I reason with the unreasonable?
“Girl, you look like you just saw a ghost,” the cashier said as she ran Shayla’s new debit card through the payment machine.
“An ex-boyfriend,” Shayla admitted in a strangled whisper.
“He’s here?” The cashier, her name tag saying Yvonne, Candles and Candy Shoppe: Owner, looked around the store at an elderly couple and teenage girl, then through the side opening of the diner. “In the diner? I’ll make a phone call. Just point him out.”
Shayla smiled at Yvonne’s kindness. “Thank you for that, but no, he’s not here. He, um, he and a business partner are being investigated for some shady business practices, and he… I think it’s an actual threat he’s made against me on his blog.”
Yvonne brow furrowed. ”Stay safe,” she urged Shayla.
Shayla gave her a reassuring nod. She’d do her best to stay safe, but she didn’t want to let Hunter terrorize her any more than he already had, otherwise she’d never feel safe.
Hunter wanted her held accountable. Not only was he crazy, but probably half the people who followed his stupid blog were nuts too. Was he going to live stream their meeting? Or maybe whip out a gun and pull her into a windowless van and try to beat the “truth” out of her? The Weird World interview had given her first and last name, the name of her business, and the town in which she lived. Various crazies wouldn’t have a hard time finding her, and they might go looking if Hunter kept up the weird shit.
“There’s a table ready for Shayla.” The waitress’s voice cut through her mental freak-out. She’d have some lunch, regroup, figure out what to do.
A gentleman stepped up to Shayla’s side. He was handsome in a lean, hungry-salesman kind of way. She stepped back because she didn’t want any of what he was selling. Not the slim-cut suit, not the black-rimmed glasses, jet-back hair, and short, well-groomed beard. He smiled at Shayla and advanced. She narrowed her eyes and went to follow the waitress, but he grabbed her arm.
“There’s been a change in our plans. We won’t be staying,” the man informed the waitress in a clear, friendly voice. He squeezed Shayla’s arm hard and whispered in her ear in a soft sweet tone as though she was a lover he’d missed, “Not a word, or the cashier gets splattered all over the candles. Walk with me.”
There was an SUV waiting outside. Don’t get in the car. The most important rule of surviving an abduction attempt. She turned to look back at Yvonne, to make sure she was okay. There was a burly man leaning against the counter with his back to her. He smiled at Shayla and opened his suit jacket to reveal a gun in a hip holster. So Shayla was trading one life for another.
A shot rang out seconds after the very hungry salesman had hustled her out the door of the gift shop and into the boxy-looking gray SUV.
The hungry salesman swore and shook his head. “Fucking Gary, you idiot.”
He seemed more irritated than upset over the senseless waste of life. She didn’t dare look in the shop. Why shoot Yvonne, though? Shayla had gone when he asked her, so the big guy inside the shop hadn’t needed to shoot the shop’s owner. But he had, and that changed things. Shayla fought the man trying to hold her down. He caught the punches she threw at his throat, but she did manage to tear into his cheek with her nails. The skin felt wrong. She had wanted to see blood, dammit, and there wasn’t any. She clawed at him again, but he got the upper hand and pinned her against the seat while he ran some type of scanner over her whole body.
“Good, no wires on ya. No sharp teeth either. Still don’t trust you.”
The door locks clicked, and he forced the safety belt across her waist. When the belt snapped in place, the strap tightened and held her plastered against the seat—apparently that model SUV had a kidnapping retrofit kit. He tore out of the parking lot, then opened the driver’s-side door a crack and tossed her purse out.
Shit! There goes my phone. Her only means of contacting help.
They made a couple of stomach-lurching turns, and then the drive got easier for a moment until he yelled out, “Goddammit, how do I have a truck on my tail?”
The SUV’s windows were tinted Hollywood-celebrity-affair dark, which meant nobody on the street could see her terrified face. The hungry salesman drove them over a curve, behind a convenience store and through a fire lane. His GPS navigation lady’s voice just kept saying, “Reconfiguring.” He must have gotten sick of hearing it too, because he hit a button, and navigation lady was silent.
Shayla didn’t have to fake her scared, shaky voice as she asked, “Do you work for Hunter Knowles?”
“I deliver to whoever pays me well.”
He paused at a light and grabbed her hands. He managed to handcuff her in a matter of seconds. He put a heavy, shiny blanket over her whole body. “The blanket’s got real silver in it,” he said, as though it was supposed to mean something. Were silver blankets a new abduction trend? Did he order it out of some ridiculous magazine, maybe something called Mercenaries Monthly or Killer Accessories, the Unnecessary Edition? He checked his rearview mirror and stopped at a corner before taking a syringe from a compartment in the console. He pulled the cap off with his teeth and jammed the syringe into her arm. “That’ll mess you up good if you try to heal. Or whatever.” He put the cap on it and dumped it in a small plastic box.
“What the hell did you give me?”
Hungry Salesman hit the gas and sped around another corner, narrowly missing a bike rider. “That shit keeps you
from healing. A little thing like you can’t give me much trouble, but better safe than sorry.”
“You think I’m some sort of superfreak? I thought you just delivered to the crazies who believed. Don’t tell me you believe in that bullshit too.” He just shrugged at her question. “What are you planning to do with me?”
“Hush now, love. Gotta make a call.” He pressed a button on the phone and told whoever answered, “Hey, it’s me. I need a pickup. I’ll call you later with the location, but I’ve got to find a place to ditch the SUV.”
She couldn’t make out what was said on the other end, but the tone sounded loud and angry. His hand tightened on the phone. “Fuck you. Gary got sloppy, and some cashier shot him up, plus I had a truck tailing me for a few miles. The delivery’s gonna be late.” So Yvonne had been one step quicker than sloppy Gary, apparently. Shayla suppressed a grin. She hoped Yvonne had shot the big dude right in the head. Her captor hung up the phone but kept it out of Shayla’s reach.
Hungry Salesman pulled off a wig of dark hair to reveal a sandy-blond crew cut. He scrubbed his hands over his face a few times, and skin-colored latex peeled off, along with his beard. His nose, cheeks, and chin were fake. The man underneath the disguise looked like he belonged on a Midwestern dairy farm. Those eyes when he caught her gaze, though, were still freaky mean. And hungry for something. Hopefully just the money he’d earn from the “delivery.”
He must have seen her sizing him up, because he warned her, “Don’t give me any shit, or I’ll knock your ass out with some special K. That shit works on regular humans too.”
Something hot and weird flowed through her veins, the burning, tempting feeling of her gift, stranger than ever, just begging to be used. The power, the need—it nearly choked her. She could shut the feeling down, but she wanted to live. Her captor’s shoulders were tense as he moved through traffic and made a hard right down a narrow dirt road. Shayla needed to get him talking again.
“So, uh, is kidnapping lucrative?”
He grinned at that, so probably a yes.
“Do you have a big team, or is this a small business venture?” No answer to that, just a grunt. The next question would be a good one. “Are you interested in making a better deal than the one you’ve made for my delivery?”
“That’s bad for business. Looks unreliable.”
What a shame. A renegotiation would have bought her some time to think. Now she would have to mess with his head. She needed a little more information first.
“You don’t really believe all this fairy-tale creature, medically induced superhero stuff, do you?”
He shrugged. “I’ve seen some weird shit, girlie. But most of the time, it’s probably just people being paranoid, Salem-witch-hunt-style.”
“Yes, Hunter is paranoid. I’m just a woman trying to run a business, trying to keep my crazy-as-hell ex from hacking my business again and from, you know, killing me ’cause he’s brain damaged.” She gave a frustrated huff and sighed. Her captor’s grip on the steering wheel relaxed a little, but his smile was hard.
“I don’t care either way, but short, skinny girls with no superhuman traits are a hell of a lot easier to deliver alive and unharmed. Yeah, he wanted you alive. Don’t know how long he’ll keep you that way or who he’ll turn you over to. Not my problem.”
“So, by he, you mean Hunter Knowles? If so, I happen to know he can’t pay. He’s lost a ton of money. Foreclosures and lawsuits. Messy stuff.”
“Nice try, Goldilocks.”
Game on. Time to fuck with the guy’s head. It almost scared her how easy it was to trust her instincts and strike out. She imitated a tone that she knew, just knew, made this man scared, like, piss-your-pants scared. Maybe a parent or father figure? A pervy uncle?
“You should have planned this shit better, you lazy fuck. You’re not gonna be able to deliver. What’s gonna happen then, boy?”
He grabbed her by the hair. “Shut up, you little cunt.”
That voice scared him, all right. He turned back to the road and sped up, wiping sweat off his brow.
“Your business is done. You can’t deliver me. There’s no hope for you.” Shayla’s voice was a shove. That was the only way she could describe it. The words she used were the tool this time, but her thoughts were what went to him. Hopelessness, despair, pain—she delivered those miseries in her words. The ease with which she did that almost scared her stupid, but she needed to keep her head on straight no matter how good she was at something she shouldn’t be able to do.
He pulled his gun and aimed it at her head. “I don’t need to deliver you. I can fucking skip this job.”
He could kill her, but doing so would torch his reputation. Hunter or whoever had initiated the mission had asked for her to be delivered alive. For answers.
“You’re stuck with me,” she insisted. “You can’t shoot me. You can’t even aim. The gun is too heavy.” Sweat trickled down her neck, and she crossed her legs to hide the shaking. Putting enough strength behind her words to pull him down, to make him feel exhausted and scared and unsure about every move he made took a ton of energy. She didn’t know how long she could keep up the effort.
“You’re a fucking mindbender! I thought they were just a myth, like fucking unicorns and shit!”
Shayla smiled sweetly and used her gentlest tone. “It’s not a big deal. Don’t worry about it. Just let go.”
The tension leaked out of his shoulders, and he sighed. She grabbed for the gun as he came back to his senses. One shot fired somewhere inside the SUV as they struggled. He slammed on the brakes, and the SUV ran up a curb, stopping inches from the side of a building. The impact of the stop forced the gun from their hands, and it fell to the floor. She grabbed for it again. He got it first, so she swiped the keys from the ignition, and the seat belt released her when the engine cut off. She ducked low and ran from the passenger seat.
He caught up to her in seconds, so she faced him, hoping like crazy she could be every bit the badass “mindbender” as he’d called her.
“Give me the gun,” she commanded. The words were strong, and the effort behind them was stronger. She made him want to hand over the gun, but he fought himself and her compulsion. She had to step it up. “Now,” she said. “Before I throw you into the river inside a bag of concrete and let you choke and drown.”
“Shit.” His voice shook as he said it. The gun fell from his hand and hit the ground. The metal-on-concrete sound jarred him back to reality a little, but she moved faster than he could. She grabbed up the gun, jumped back from him, and squeezed the trigger point-blank at his head. Twice. After he hit the ground, she grabbed his phone.
Thank God the lock screen wasn’t engaged, or maybe the little burner-looking phone didn’t have one. She sat against the building they’d nearly crashed into minutes ago, fingers trembling as she keyed in a number she knew by heart. Grant answered on the first ring, his deep, strong voice comforting her.
“Grant, baby, I—”
“Shay? Where are you? We lost you a few roads after the diner. We’re probably not that far from you.”
“You followed me?”
“Yes, baby doll. That’s how we saw you leaving with some guy.”
“Not by choice.”
“I didn’t think so. Please, where are you? Are you safe?”
“Corner of Barret Road and Crater Street. Looks like some kind of storage facilities or something. The driver—I shot him. He’s dead, but…I think he shot me too.” She heard a whole string of curse words on the other end of the line. Blood spray and other questionable things from Hungry Salesman’s head covered her, but she hurt so fucking bad. The shot that had gone off inside the SUV? The bullet hadn’t vanished into thin air or been buried in a seat—it was in her chest.
Chapter Fourteen
Grant slammed on the brakes to his truck and threw the gear into park. Aaron Carter jumped out of the passenger’s side. Against the faded brick building was a glimmer of blonde hair and fai
r skin. Shayla sat with her knees pulled in and her hands pressed against her chest. She was covered in blood. She was alive, but that much blood could only mean one thing. Grant ran to her.
“Baby, Carter and I followed you. I’m sorry. We had to. We were gonna talk to Hunter after you were through with him. I planned on making sure he never messed with you again. However I needed to make that happen.” He hugged her to him. “I love you, baby. Please be okay.” Not that it was within her power to grant his wish.
“Most of the blood belongs to the driver.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “I shot him. But before that, we fought for the gun, and I think…” She paused, and her breathing turned shallow, and tears streamed down her face. “I think there’s a bullet in my chest.”
Grant gently moved her hands away from her chest and pulled up her shirt. Blood was flowing from a small hole below her left breast. He pulled off his soft cotton undershirt and put pressure on the wound.
“The driver’s dead!” Carter yelled. “Don’t touch anything. The police and an ambulance should be here any minute.” The area was quiet and dead except for the chaos that their presence brought. If there were any people inside the storage facilities, they were most likely keeping themselves there and safe until the cops got there. If anybody else showed up and started shooting, Grant was going to have to go bear and tear out throats.
“Hey, Grant?”
“Yes, baby?”
“When this is all over, let’s take that beach trip. I need to tell you how…” Shayla sagged in his arms. “So tired.” She barely got the words out. Her teeth started chattering. Grant pulled her into the bed of his truck and laid her flat, all while keeping pressure on her wound.
He tried to stay calm. The bear wasn’t calm either. He was growling out in fury that Grant hadn’t initiated Shayla into a shifter sooner.
“Carter!” Grant hoped Carter knew the answer to his question, ’cause if he didn’t, Grant would have to take a shot in the dark.
Stranger Creatures 2: Bear's Edge Page 14