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Gage (Contract Killers Book 1)

Page 4

by Jenika Snow


  ****

  Neeka was placed, by force, in another room, this one much more spacious and well furnished than her holding cell. Rye had gone out of his way to make this look like a bedroom, like she wasn’t being held prisoner. There was a window, barred, but it did let sunshine in.

  Several days had passed since she’d met with Rye, and during that time no one had taken her blood. Her wounds had since healed, but she still felt like shit, couldn’t stop thinking about her father and if he was okay, and wondering how she could possibly get out of this.

  A knock sounded on her door, and she turned from her seat in front of the window, her heart racing because she didn’t know what she was about to experience. Was the testing going to start again? Was Rye finally done with her? He’d said she was special, that he needed her, but he was a fucking psycho.

  The young man that entered was the same she’d seen that first day she’d gone to Rye’s office. He couldn’t be much older than she was, and he refused to look at her. He held a silver tray in his hands and set it on the small table by her bed.

  “Today is grilled chicken with a light butter sauce, steamed green beans, and garlic mashed potatoes.” He didn’t look at her as he spoke, but he never did. He lifted the silver lid, showing her that he spoke the truth. He covered it again and turned to leave.

  She didn’t give a shit about the food or anything else that concerned Rye. What she cared about was escaping and helping out the men that the psychotic doctor was performing experiments on.

  “Wait,” she said to the young man. He looked nervous whenever he came in here, and she thought maybe he’d be a weaker opponent, someone that she could actually fight to get her freedom. The other guards were big, mean, and always had this scowl on their faces.

  She stood and took a couple of steps toward him, noticing how he did glance at her then, and how his body had tensed. She’d been watching him every time he came to her room, noticing a guard right outside before the door closed and automatically locked.

  “I need to get out of here,” she said in a soft voice so the guard she knew was on the other side couldn’t hear them.

  The young man didn’t speak.

  “Do you realize he’s keeping me here against my will?”

  Again no answer.

  “Do you understand the atrocious things he’s doing to people, and that you’re an accessory to it all?”

  He’d looked at the ground again, refusing to keep eye contact with her.

  “Look at me, you weak asshole.”

  He did lift his head again, but there was only nervousness on his face. “I work for the doctor in whatever he way needs.”

  Asshole.

  Okay, so the prick wasn’t going to help her. She’d have to go to the next plan she’d been thinking about since she was put in this new room. It might not work—no, it probably wouldn’t work—but she had to try something. Sitting here and waiting to be used was not an option. Her father would want her to fight, to kick ass if she could.

  “Can I get a pitcher of water?”

  He gave a brisk nod, and then turned around knocked on the door, signaling the guard he was ready to get out. He left without a backward glance. There was no handle on the inside, and she’d been watching his routine when he left, knowing he had no keys on him, and if she wanted out she’d have to make a plan.

  Even though her room was more furnished than her last dwelling, it still held the bare minimum when it came to furniture, especially things she’d want to use as a weapon. Aside from the bed, a dresser that was far too heavy for her to move on her own, and a chair, which had been bolted down to the ground by the window, there was nothing else. Even the bathroom attached to the room didn’t have anything she could use. The mirror was reflective plastic, and the back of the toilet didn’t even have the lid on it, which was one of the first things she’d checked since it was heavy enough to do some damage to someone.

  Looking down at the tray, she saw the plastic utensils and the plastic cup. Yeah, those would be unless. Ten minutes later, the guy came back in her room with a plastic pitcher filled with water.

  He handed her the pitcher, and she felt the heaviness in her hand. Her heart was beating so fast, and she knew that even though this might not work, she had to at least try to get away. He nodded, and turned away. She gripped the handle of the pitcher, her muscles tensing, her breathing becoming faster.

  “Excuse me?”

  He turned around, and that was when she reared her arm back and slammed the pitcher against the side of his head. The plastic cracked and water splashed everywhere. He stared at her, stunned for a moment, his eyes wide, his mouth parting open. She balled her hand into a tight fist and swung out. She’d never hit anyone before, and when her hand connected with his jaw she gasped in pain.

  His head cocked back, and blood started tracking down his temple from where she’d knocked him in the head with the pitcher. His gaze turned distant before he fell to the ground.

  Can it be that easy?

  But she wasn’t a fool, because even if this asshole was out she still had to worry about the guy on the other side of the door, and possibly more down the hall.

  Her heart was working overtime as she stared at the closed door, praying the guard hadn’t heard the commotion. Several seconds went by, and she breathed out in temporary relief. She grabbed his ankles and pulled him toward the other side of the bed and placed him there so he wouldn’t be seen if someone came in.

  Knocking on the door, she kept her mouth shut and her body on alert. Looking over her shoulder, she could just barely see the feet of the man she’d knocked out peeking out, and hoped that would give the guard that came in pause.

  A second later her door opened, and she pressed herself against the wall behind the door. The door blocked her from the guard’s view as he walked in, but when he came into view and saw the feet he rushed toward the bed. She didn’t wait to see what would happen when he found out it was the man working for Rye that was unconscious.

  Neeka slipped out the door and shut it as quickly as possible just as she heard the guard’s curse ring out. Either she was the best escape artist alive or Rye had some lousy guards. Most definitely the latter, but still, she was lucky enough to have gotten to where she was now. The sound of the guard pounding on the door came through loud, echoing off the high walls. He’d contact his buddies through the walkie-talkies they all had, so she had to be quick and smart.

  She had no idea where to go, taking several different turns down the long hallways, feeling like she was going lower and deeper into this compound. She kept looking over her shoulder, expecting to see someone right behind her. Panic filled her further when she heard male shouts ring out behind her, but still at a distance.

  She pushed open one of the doors, this one not having a palm scanner on the wall. The elegant decorations soon became the sterile white. She knew this was the completely wrong place for her to be going, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to turn around, not when she could still hear the guards coming closer.

  Neeka continued to run, her bare feet smacking the tile as she rounded more corners. She skidded to a stop when she saw three men in black fatigues down the hall in front of her. They immediately started shouting and charging toward her. She turned to go back the way she came. She gasped when two more men started coming from that way, as well.

  She looked around, having only a short window of time before they reached her. She sprinted down a hallway that was empty, about to cry when she realized it was a dead end, but then she saw a large metal door to her right. That one was locked, and she was about to scream in frustration when she saw another one further down the hall. She pulled on that one, expecting it to also be locked, but when it opened, she couldn’t help the relief that coursed through her. She slammed the door shut and leaned against it, the room so dark she couldn’t even see an inch in front of her. She turned around and stepped back, hearing deep shouts on the other side and trying frantically t
o find some place to hide.

  Neeka backed up.

  It must have automatically locked when I shut it. But why was it open to begin with?

  She continued to back up, but then her back met something hard and wide. She felt her eyes widen, and not wanting to turn around for fear of what she was pressed up against, which she could tell wasn’t a wall, she did just that. Even though the room was completely dark, she could easily see the dim glow of two light blue eyes staring right at her. They seemed neon in the dark, with an almost iridescent hue to them. She slapped a hand over her mouth and backed away, but the owner of those eerie eyes moved closer, following her until finally light spilled into the room as the door behind her swung open. She could finally see who was in the room with her, and she gasped in fear and shock.

  Adaym.

  “How the fuck did she get in here?” one man shouted from behind her.

  “Who the hell left the door open?” another said.

  “The doctor is going to have someone’s head.”

  Pain slammed into her arm, and she looked down to see a syringe sticking out of her flesh. She looked back at Adaym, hearing his animalistic roar and seeing him charge forward. The chain around his ankle stopped him from reaching them, but she could see the rage on his face. She didn’t know if it was directed at her or the guards, but it didn’t matter because darkness claimed her seconds later.

  Chapter Five

  Gage walked into the rundown front lobby of the Dew Oaks Motel. An elderly man sat behind the counter, his bright orange hunting hat setting off the faded and hole-riddled overalls he wore.

  “I need to know if a young girl came here about two weeks ago,” Gage said right off the bat, not about to prolong this. “She would have been with at least one man, maybe more.” He took out a photo of her and slid it forward.

  The elderly man slowly looked up from his tattered hunting magazine and stared at him with beady black eyes. He glanced down at the photo and then back at his magazine. “I might have seen her. It’ll cost ya, though.”

  Gage lifted a brow. No way was this old fuck trying to swindle him out of money like a back-alley hoodlum. “What will it take for you to tell me what I want to know and show me the check-in book?”

  The man looked back at him before tapping on the counter. “How much ya got?”

  Gage could have showed the old man his Beretta, but he had no intention of hurting a man that was well into his seventies. Gage went after the evil men, the ones that hurt people for sport alone. “How about one hundred for whatever you know, and another hundred for not knowing anything if asked.”

  The old man mumbled something incoherent and tapped the counter. Gage exhaled and pulled out two one hundred dollar bills, slapping them on the stained and chipped laminated counter. The old man grabbed a book from under the counter and pushed it toward Gage. He opened the book and started flipping through the pages. He looked at the date Neeka had been taken, and the week after that, in case they held her somewhere in the meantime. He scanned the pages for anything that looked out of place.

  “Anyone of these assholes seem shifty when they signed in?” Gage asked and looked at the old man. He pulled the book toward him, looking over the page, and then placed his grease-stained finger on a name.

  “Was this girl with him?” Gage showed the man Neeka’s photo again.

  The old man glanced between the name and the photo, nodding before picking up a toothpick and going at what little teeth he had left.

  “Tell me about why this one stood out.”

  “Two guys checked in and asked for the farthest room. I watched them, because they seemed like people that might party or trash my establishment,” the old man said without apology. “I wouldn’t be havin’ none of that. The two went in the room, and I seen a third get out of the car carrying a pretty li’l thing in his arms. Got eyes like a hawk, yes I do.” He tapped on the picture as he smiled, showcasing a mouth full missing teeth. “That was yer girl, all right.”

  “What else?” Gage asked.

  “I seen one of the guys leave. He was driving a piece of shit van. But there was another car that pulled up before then. One of the guys that had checked in signed out and left the keys and a new hundred on the counter, but I was watching, you better believe it. Who gives extra money unless they want someone kept quiet?” The old man stared at Gage, as if emphasizing the little transaction that was going on now. “They took a left on sixty-one, but then took a sharp right off of Harrison.” He scratched his jaw. “Harrison only leads to one place.”

  The silence stretched on, and Gage felt his nerves and the darkness rising. “Spit that shit out.”

  “Kliffborne.”

  Gage didn’t give a shit why the old man hadn’t gone to the authorities if he thought things were sketchy, because he had the information now, and that’s what mattered.

  “I can’t be callin’ no cops over here. I like my business just that, my business. They’d be poking and prodding, findin’ all sorts of stuff that don’t need finding.”

  Gage didn’t care one way or another, but nodded. Gage knew what and where Kliffborne was. It was several hours west, a barren desert filled with cacti, thistles, and red dirt. It was now void of activity and human life due to chemical testing that had been done out there back in the fifties, but as far as he knew the actual building was still standing.

  Is that where Neeka is?

  Gage thanked the man for his time and turned to leave. The air was hot and stifling, a complete one-eighty from Shyloh. Shyloh was right next to the mountains, the air more dry and fresh, but winter was coming on strong and had a chill surrounding everything. Gage swiped a hand over his brow, sweat already starting to bead on his skin as the sun blazed brightly over the horizon. Although it was starting to become dusk, the temperature was still hot as hell. He got into his SUV and started the vehicle.

  He was close to finding Neeka. He could feel it in his veins, in the way his blood pumped fiercely through his body. That familiar darkness rose up, and he didn’t deny himself, didn’t try to stop it. Gage had no doubt there would be a lot of bloodshed, but then again, it came with the job, and he was looking forward it to.

  ****

  Neeka slowly woke to the sound of voices near her. She groaned, rolling onto her side and immediately wincing at the tender spot on her arm as it pressed against the hard, unforgiving table.

  “Ah, the princess awakens.”

  She blinked several times as the room slowly came into focus. She realized she was back in her “holding cell”. Rye sat a few feet away from her, along with two armed guards on either side of him. As she slowly rose and sat on the edge of the bed, she noticed how the guards tightened their hold on their rifles. Neeka couldn’t help it. She laughed out loud at the sight. The guards moved closer. Rye lifted his hand, stopping them from moving closer.

  Maybe she was losing her mind? Maybe he’d finally broken her?

  “I have to admit, Neeka, you surprised me. Although, I must tell you, poor Jaxon will be bruised for some time.”

  She assumed Jaxon was the young man she’d knocked out.

  “Good,” she said in a calm voice, one calmer than she thought she was even capable of given the situation. “I’ll keep trying to get out of this shithole.”

  He shrugged and smiled. “I’m sure you will. You were a very stubborn child, and now a woman.”

  He smiled at her, and she hated the chill that went through her.

  “Although the police have given up, I’ve been informed he’s contracted a less than upstanding citizen to help in finding you.”

  My father hasn’t given up on me.

  “But, your father is on his deathbed, Neeka, and sooner rather than later he’ll be gone. He’s all you have in this world, and when he’s no longer on this world I’ll be the only one you have.”

  Dread settled into her. She didn’t want to think of her father passing, but Rye spoke the truth. Edward McCarthy was on his deathbed. Sh
e held his gaze, refusing to look away before he finally rose and gestured for the men to follow him.

  “You will be kept in these quarters until you have learned to cooperate. You need to learn how to behave. Once you do, I will be more than happy to switch you to more lush accommodations, once more.” Rye stared at her, his look brooding.

  She watched the three men leave, and when they were gone she took a deep breath and folded her hands in her lap. Sorrow and hatred made a slow, nauseous boil in the pit of her stomach. Her heart clenched painfully at the thought of never seeing her father again.

  Just more reason to get out of here, and kill Rye if you get the chance.

  Chapter Six

  Gage scoped out the facility. The place looked deserted, but the slight movement he saw by the entrance told him this place wasn’t as void of life as everyone might think. Thistle was sporadically scattered around, thorns from the offending bush scraping against his fatigues as if they were alive and sought to draw blood. He’d parked his SUV a mile away from the compound, navigating the vehicle into a trench and off the road. His night vision goggles were in place, and he turned on the infrared, seeing the heat patterns of at least two bodies.

  The clouds shrouded the moon, shadows creeping across the ground like tentacles of darkness. A dilapidated chain link fence at least twenty feet high surrounded the massive structure, the barbed wire secured along the top of it as if to warn spectators that hidden dangers lurked on the inside. There were weathered and aged areas of the fence, which would make getting in a hell of a lot easier. But even if everything had been intact he would have still found a way to get in. Nothing would stop him from getting Neeka back.

 

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