Taxi (Take It Off #11)

by Cambria Hebert

  I took the bucket because it was shaking in her grasp.

  My eyes widened when she sat on the floor and placed her cuffed hand palm down on the concrete and spread her fingers wide.

  “Do it.”

  She really thought I would just slam a bucket down on her hand? A hand that was already damaged and bleeding. Not to mention her wrist…

  “No.”

  “You’re wasting time. We have no idea when they’re going to be back.”

  I stared at her incredulously.

  “This isn’t just for you,” she noted. “This is for me, too. I want out of here just as badly.”

  Pain pierced my heart. “I know, sweetheart.”

  “Then do it.”

  The bucket hit the stone beside my feet with a loud clatter. I wasn’t going to crush all the bones in her hand.

  She made a frustrated sound and all but growled my name. “Derek.”

  I ignored her and tried to think of which way would most effectively and most simply break my hand. She wouldn’t do it, so I was going to have to do it to myself.

  Muttering, Rose pushed to her feet. I hated the way one side of her body was pulled down so she appeared lopsided. She didn’t seem to notice, though.

  I was about to get a lecture. The kind women give when they’re all riled up.

  It was actually a good motivator to break my hand much faster so I could get the hell away.

  We didn’t get the chance to lock horns. I didn’t get the chance to hear a lecture. And my hand stayed intact.

  All our plans were interrupted by the earsplitting sound of metal rubbing against metal.

  Rose’s breath hissed between her lips. “They’re back!”

  11

  Rose

  A girl knows she’s in trouble when two things happen:

  1.) When a guy keeps kissing you, like kissing you really good, even when you know your breath is worse than dirty socks.

  And

  2.) He tells you you’re important. (Not only that, but he says it with a Southern drawl and his voice is deep and throaty.)

  If you need me, I’ll be over here swooning. On the floor. Tell my kidnappers.

  I couldn’t even be pissed off Derek refused to break my hand. What kind of sexist crap is that? My hand was just as capable of being broken as his.

  I could do my job with one hand. He could not.

  But he kissed me.

  Apparently, his tongue and soft lips that consumed me completely also ate away at valuable brain tissue. I wanted to be mad, but it was hard when he was so adorably stubborn, with dark hair falling into his eyes and towering close by with his strong body quite literally dripping in chain.

  How come it didn’t make him look like a lopsided hunchback like me?

  And did you hear that sound?

  I’m positive it was my ovaries exploding. He was best friends with his nephew. Who’s ten.

  But all that could wait.

  The worry in his soulful eyes and the grim set to his kissable mouth was more important. He had a life to save. He shouldn’t have been here.

  I shouldn’t have been here either.

  Just when I thought we were going to get out of here, Taxi Man and his gun-toting boss showed up.

  Some of the bravado I was feeling disappeared. These men scared me. This entire situation scared me. Derek had been a nice distraction—a very capable one at that—but distractions weren’t welcome right now. We needed to work together and get out of here.

  Fast.

  “Good, you’re up,” Taxi Man said to both of us, dividing his gaze.

  Okay, fine. He was less watchful of me.

  Probably because of the pretty shiners and busted nose he was sporting courteous of Derek.

  Seeing Taxi Man brought back memories of him on top of me. I shuddered.

  Even though Derek wasn’t looking at me, he noticed my reaction and slowly moved a few steps to angle his body in front of mine.

  Taxi Man folded his arms over his chest, keeping far enough back so Derek couldn’t reach him. “You’re being moved,” he announced.

  “To where?” Derek demanded.

  The sound of a gun being cocked drew my eyes. Boss Man was standing there with that fancy rifle in his hands and a pistol tucked into the front of his dress pants.

  “Try anything fucked up and we’ll kill you.”

  “Thought you didn’t want us hurt.” Derek’s voice was calm, like he wasn’t even threatened.

  My palms were slick with sweat, and I gripped at the bucket handle behind my back, ready to swing it around at a moment’s notice.

  “We don’t. Not yet anyway. Doesn’t mean we won’t do what we gotta do.”

  “What do you want with us?” I half snapped. Either they wanted us unharmed or didn’t care. They couldn’t have it both ways.

  Frankly, even scared, I was getting tired of the threats.

  Both sets of eyes turned on me. However, Derek didn’t turn. His stare stayed locked on the men threatening us. The muscles in his back bunched, which told me he might prefer if I didn’t talk and draw attention my way.

  I’d prefer I wasn’t chained to a pipe.

  We don’t always get what we want.

  Speaking of chain, I noted without looking the way Derek was slowly pulling a length of chain into his palm. Guess my question was a good distraction.

  “We was just going to show you,” Taxi Man replied. I hated the sound of his voice. He acted like he was being all accommodating and giving me what I wanted by telling me.

  Gee. Excuse me if I didn’t vote for him as person of the year.

  Dumbass.

  And he had terrible grammar.

  “We aren’t going anywhere with you,” Derek intoned.

  “Look,” Taxi Man said, like he was put out and tired of us. “The faster you do what we want, the faster we can let you go.”

  Derek laughed, incredulous. “You’re going to let us go.”

  We were met with stony silence. Something about it made my skin crawl and a terrible feeling worm low into my belly.

  Taxi Man glanced at me. The way his eyes shifted over and then away was not confidence inspiring.

  They aren’t going to let me go.

  Derek, maybe. But not me.

  They’re going to kill me.

  But why? Why me and not him? Why did it feel like he was less disposable than me?

  Taxi Man took a step forward and reached behind him. Instantly, I went on high alert and so did Derek. He shifted backward closer to me.

  “Don’t try nothing funny.” Taxi Man spoke. The distinct sound of clattering keys filled the air as he produced them from his back pocket.

  To accentuate his demand, Boss Man took several steps closer, brandishing his weapon like he knew how to use it.

  I thought at first they would unchain Derek, but Taxi man turned and came at me. I refused to flinch or step back. I refused to cower at all. I lifted my chin and gripped my homemade weapon.

  When he got close, I was going to stab him.

  He must have seen the anger or maybe disgust in my eyes, because he stopped short and motioned for his backup.

  Derek stepped menacingly toward us, as if warning the men to back off.

  “Relax, tough guy,” Boss Man remarked. “We aren’t going to hurt her unless you do something that forces us.”

  “Nope. That pleasure is going to be all yours,” Taxi Man added.

  My eyes flew up to Derek. He frowned like he too heard the remark but had no idea what it could mean.

  The end of the rifle met my temple. The metal was hard and unforgiving. He pressed in so hard against my skin I could feel my heart thumping against the nose.

  I rocked on my feet, a little waver meant to steady me so I could throw all my force into my attack.

  Gun or no gun, I was fighting.

  I’d go for the one with the gun. Maybe upon injury, he’d drop it and I could take it and shoot them both.

 
; Oh yes. I would shoot.

  Mark my words.

  The sound of dragging chain had everyone near me stiffening. I glanced up.

  “Come any closer and I’ll shoot her right now,” Boss Man vowed.

  The arm with the cuff around it was snatched up, and I bit back a yelp. The skin was so tender, the jarring, sudden movement hurt.

  I spared a glance at Derek, rocking on my feet again. He shook his head imperceptibly.

  I frowned.

  He repeated the action.

  Slowly and carefully, I slipped the metal into the waistband of my skirt.

  Neither man noticed because the one with the gun was too involved watching Derek, and the other was unlocking my chain.

  The cuff around my wrist clattered against the floor. My arm screamed with relief. The muscles all the way up to my shoulder vibrated with exhaustion and felt like a cup of Jell-O. It was like I’d just lifted four times my body weight and did way, way too many reps.

  I lurched to the side, away from the gun and the men.

  Taxi Man seemed to be expecting it, and his hand locked around my wrist. The one that was raw.

  “Oww!” I howled in pain as he jerked me back around.

  “Son of a bitch!” Derek roared and lunged forward. The chain he’d been holding found its way around Taxi Man’s throat, and his eyes bulged.

  He released me to claw at the chain as it tightened and cut off his air supply.

  “Run, Rose!” Derek ordered as he squeezed.

  The way his biceps bulged beneath the T-shirt was almost mesmerizing. He was powerful enough to kill this guy.

  I hoped he did.

  I turned to flee as wheezing filled the room.

  The sound of a scuffle behind me erupted, and my steps faltered. Something heavy and hard smacked into my back, just between my shoulder blades.

  Pain exploded up my back and down the backs of my arms. I cried out and plunged forward, landing in a heap on the ground.

  My hands stung from the fall, but I ignored it and rolled. My back hurt terribly, but I had to keep moving.

  “Don’t move,” a deadly voice whispered. The nose of the gun pressed right between my eyes with such force it pinched my head against the concrete.

  The boss stared down at me, his eyes glittering with anger and his white hair ruffled.

  “Was it too much to ask that you just be civilized?” he asked.

  I’m thinking if anyone needed a course in manners, it was him.

  I tried to glance off to the side, to see if Derek was okay, but he wouldn’t let me turn my head. Instead, I was trapped, lying prone, with this man towering over me and what could be my cause of death pressed to my head.

  Someone off to my side was sucking in great gulps of air, and it sounded like it was painful. I figured that was probably Taxi Man… Derek must have let go.

  “Derek?” I called out, not caring if I got in trouble. I had to know if he was okay.

  He’d been trying to give me a chance to get out of here.

  “He’s indisposed.” Boss Man smirked.

  I grabbed the gun’s barrel with both hands and tried to push it free. What I got for my effort was the man over me all but lying on it to keep it in place.

  I whimpered.

  It hurt.

  Pain shot through my skull. I stopped fighting, but I didn’t let go of the barrel.

  “Unchain him,” Boss Man called over his shoulder.

  Taxi Man’s breathing was still labored when I heard the jangle of the keys. What felt like hours later, but was probably only seconds, the sick sound of flesh hitting flesh made me gag.

  Derek made a low sound, and I started struggling again.

  Boss Man looked down, his eyes cold and knowing. “Don’t waste too much energy trying to save him. In the end, he won’t do the same for you.”

  I paused, and our eyes collided.

  He nodded emphatically.

  “Rose,” Derek said, his voice low, “I’m okay.”

  He didn’t sound okay.

  “Let me up,” I demanded.

  To my intense surprise, the gun lifted off my head, and the man stepped back a mere fraction.

  “Don’t try anything.” He warned.

  I scrambled back, my eyes seeking out Derek.

  He was getting to his feet. When he looked at me, I noted there was a mark on the side of his face, already swelling and turning an ugly shade of blue.

  I made a sound and rushed toward him. The man with the gun made a tsking sound and stuck out his foot to trip me.

  I halted, but it was too late. I ran right into him and stumbled forward.

  I braced myself for the landing. I already knew what this floor felt like very intimately, so it wasn’t hard to image what was coming.

  Before I hit, Derek scooped me up. One arm wrapped around my waist and pulled. I sagged forward, all the air leaving my lungs in great whoosh.

  “Back off,” he growled over my head. It was totally intimidating, and the hairs on my arms lifted.

  I craned my neck. Taxi Man stood there with an ominous welt around his neck, looking like he was ready to kill.

  “Leave them,” Boss Man ordered. “It doesn’t matter anyway.”

  He pulled the gun out of the front of his pants and held it out to Taxi Man. Then he looked back at us.

  “We’re taking a walk. Don’t try anything.”

  Derek nodded. His hand curled around my upper arm. We were motioned to walk ahead while the men and their guns took up residence right behind us.

  As we walked toward the wide-open door, I squinted against the harsh sunlight shining inside. It felt like years since I’d seen the sun. Since I’d seen anything other than a dark and dingy space.

  “Keep walking,” Boss Man ordered and hit the center of Derek’s back with the gun just hard enough to make him stumble.

  Even though he faltered, he didn’t let go of me. His grip remained sure and steady.

  Out of the corner of my eyes, I glanced over at him. He met my stare with a sidelong glance of his own.

  “Get ready,” he mouthed. To punctuate the words, he squeezed my arm.

  Outside, the sun was hot and unrelenting. There wasn’t a single cloud in the bright-blue sky that seemed to stretch on for miles. I glanced around hungrily, looking for anything or anyone I could signal for help.

  There was no one.

  We were in the center of a very large field. A farm to be exact.

  Off to my right was a green expanse of grass that stretched as far as I could see. It was tall and dry as if it had been left untended for the entire season.

  Straight ahead was a corn field. All the stalks were taller than me, and the browning leaves swayed gently in the air. I knew right away that’s where we would head. We could find concealment in the crop, and it would hopefully shield us as we ran.

  We were instructed to move, turning so we were walking parallel with the crops. I glanced to the other side, suddenly realizing where we’d been kept all this time.

  Silos.

  Right here beside us was a group of three huge metal silos.

  They looked old, weathered, and kinda creepy. You know how old buildings take on that sort of haunted look when they’re no longer in use. That’s how these appeared. Abandoned and unwanted.

  Whoever’s farm this was probably didn’t even know their silos were being used for debauchery. Looking around, I had to wonder if they would even care.

  Derek’s fingers squeezed my arm, and I pulled my attention from our surroundings and glanced up at him.

  All of the sudden, he shoved me away. A sound of surprise ripped from my throat. He’d put all his weight into it, and I went flying across the grass.

  I stumbled and then fell onto my side. Strands of hair fell over my face, and I pushed them back and stared at Derek incredulously.

  But he wasn’t looking at me. He was charging the man with the rifle, knocking it aside and delivering a swift uppercut to his jaw.r />
  Recovering, I scrambled up and started to run. Taxi Man once again grabbed me by the wrist, and I howled.

  God! Why couldn’t he ever grab the other one?

  I swung around to face him, yanked the metal handle free of my waistband, and plunged it down into his shoulder. The makeshift weapon did its job and broke the skin, plunging in and drawing blood.

  “You little bitch!” he screeched. Without letting go of his gun, he reached for the piece of metal sticking out of his arm.

  As much as I loved that little weapon, I had to go.

  I started running as fast as I could.

  I heard Derek’s pounding footsteps behind me.

  “The corn,” he rushed out, and I increased my speed.

  I’d never thought a field of corn would ever look like salvation. I never thought the idea of getting lost in a field sounded like a good idea.

  As I ran, the thundering of my heart was the only sound I could hear, and my chest squeezed with effort as I sprinted with everything I had. In those seconds, corn represented everything. Hope. Survival. A chance.

  Right beside me, dirt exploded. Little granules sprayed my legs and arms. I stumbled but kept going.

  “Run faster!” Derek demanded. His legs were longer, his stride surer. He sped up past me but grabbed my hand to spur me along.

  “They’re shooting at us!” I gasped as even more dirt exploded around us.

  I winced when another shot went off, and I cowered, expecting dirt to fly at me, peppering my clothes and skin with grittiness.

  No dirt exploded this time.

  Instead, I felt the slamming, sharp pain of something hammering into my leg with intense force.

  I tripped.

  A burning sensation tingled up the back of my leg as I hit the ground, hard.

  “Rose!” Derek bit out. All at once, he stopped running and turned back for me.

  “Go!” I yelled, urging him on. “Go get help.”

  “I’m not leaving you,” he vowed, rushing to my side.

  I tried to get up, managing to get as far as my knees. Then I made the mistake of looking down.

  Fresh, dark-red blood slicked my pale skin. It was everywhere.

  I glanced up at Derek. “I’ve been shot.”

  Getting shot hurt. I wouldn’t recommend it.