Settling The Score (BBW Romantic Suspense Contemporary Romance)

by Diane Blake

  Craig had to pull himself together. He hopped in the shower. As the water hit his face, he pondered the cruel twist of fate that placed him in Jasinda's shower without her.

  Chapter 41

  "Wake up, bitches," Tommy's voice boomed.

  Jasinda opened her eyes and looked up. She stretched and yawned.

  Earlier, she'd appealed to Tommy's last shred of humanity, asking that he untie her and Kandi in order to let them sleep unencumbered on the unforgiving floor. He'd agreed, but kept them under tight supervision at gunpoint from various henchmen who had showed up to relieve the others.

  Jasinda had found half of a package of paper towels in the cupboard under the counter. It served as her pillow. Kandi used a dirty mechanic's coat that she found in the storage closet.

  The floor felt so much better than sleeping upright in the chair as they'd been forced to do the night before.

  Tommy entered the room. For the second day in a row, his wardrobe now consisted of black jeans and a dark-colored tailored dress shirt. Of course his neck remained scarf-free, proudly showing off the dragon tattoo.

  "Here. Eat." Tommy tossed a couple fast food bags on the peeling Formica tabletop. He also put down a couple coffee cups for them.

  Jasinda and Kandi tore into the breakfast sandwiches. "Good. You need to keep up your strength just a little longer," he commented.

  Jasinda drank her coffee in almost one gulp. She noticed that, unlike when he brought her the coffee on campus, this time it was just plain black.

  After they finished eating, Tommy said, "Alright, back into the chairs. And remember, don't get any bright ideas. While one of my men ties you up, the other one will stand back with his gun aimed right at you. Ready to pull the trigger if he detects any problems."

  "You've got to let me out of here. Today's the Big Game. I have to perform," Kandi told him as the henchman secured the ropes.

  Tommy laughed. "Funny you should mention that." He yelled towards the doorway, "Bring it in!"

  The bearded man who had kidnapped Jasinda wheeled in a flat screen TV on an old metal high school AV cart.

  "You want us to watch TV?" Jasinda asked incredulously as the ropes tightened around her wrists and ankles as well.

  "We're all going to watch it together, later," Tommy announced. "But first, we're going to make a phone call."

  Tommy pulled a cell phone out of his pocket.

  "That's one of those burner phones like your father gave me," Kandi observed aloud.

  "Correct," Tommy told her.

  The guy with the scar under his eye slipped into the room. Tommy instructed him to gag Kandi.

  Tommy then dug in his pocket for a slip of paper with a phone number on it. Tommy tapped the screen to put the call on speaker.

  Meanwhile, Craig's phone rang just as he gathered his stuff to leave Jasinda's apartment to head to the stadium. The screen read: Private Number. Normally, he wouldn't answer an unknown call, but in this case, he swiped to connect. He smartly figured that whoever took Jasinda would hardly expose their phone if they called for a ransom.

  "Hello, Craig Wilder here."

  Jasinda's heart practically leapt out of her chest when she heard the voice from the speaker. "Craig! Help! They're holding us at an auto garage of some kind and-"

  Tommy held up the screen to show her that the microphone had been muted the whole time.

  "Hello? Is anyone there?" Craig asked.

  "Jasinda, if you do something stupid like that again, I'll shoot you. Same goes for you, Kandi." Tommy removed the gun from his pocket. He held it menacingly in one hand while he maneuvered the phone in the other. "I'll be hovering my thumb over the mute button the whole time in case I need to press it quickly."

  "Last chance. Helloooo?" Craig inquired.

  Tommy slapped the mute icon to open the microphone. "It's your last chance to keep your girlfriend alive."

  "Who is this? Where are you? What do you want?" Craig demanded.

  Tommy kept his cool. "The first two questions are irrelevant. You need to focus on the last one."

  "I'm not doing anything until you let me talk to Jasinda. I want to know she's all right."

  Tommy gestured at Jasinda with the gun. "Go ahead, tell him how nice we've been treating you in this here five star hotel."

  "Craig? Can you hear me?" Jasinda asked.

  The relief came through loud and clear in his voice. "Jasinda, thank God. You have no idea how worried I've been about you. Are you hurt?"

  "Not really."

  "Not yet," Tommy corrected.

  Craig exploded. "I swear to God if you hurt her..."

  "You'll what, tough guy? Throw a football at me? Snap me with a towel in the locker room? Get with the program. You're not in charge here. I am. I'm giving the orders. You're going to do exactly as you're told or I'm going to paint the wall with Jasinda Reed's guts." He paused for a few seconds to let that sink in. "Oh, and don't bother trying to trace this call. My tech guy who set this up bounced it through so many Internet services, call scramblers, and cell tower redirects, that even he couldn't trace it if he wanted to."

  "How much do you want? I'm sure you know I'm very wealthy and-"

  "I don't want a cent," Tommy informed him. "Not from you anyway."

  "Don't listen to him Craig! He just wants revenge! They'll just kill me anyway!" Jasinda screamed.

  Chapter 42

  "Gag Jasinda now!" Tommy demanded.

  She struggled against the dirty rag by turning her head back and forth as the bearded guy forced it into her mouth. With her arms and legs tied to the chair, she couldn't offer much resistance.

  Craig's voice came from the speaker. "I'm sorry, I think you're breaking up. I couldn't make out what you said, Jasinda. Are you still there?"

  Tommy smiled. He'd been watching Jasinda closely. As soon as her facial expression gave away her impending outburst, he'd muted the call. Craig heard none of his girlfriend's warnings beyond the first word "don't".

  With Jasinda gagged, Tommy reactivated the mic. "You've talked to her enough, Craig. It's time for us to come to terms. It should go without saying, but just in case... No police. If you contact them, I'll know. We have people on the inside at various levels."

  "You're bluffing," Craig accused.

  "I assure you I'm not. Even if I were, it's not a chance you can afford to take. Also, no private security forces, etc. You've already seen what happened to one bodyguard you sent to watch over your girlfriend. I've got people watching you, Craig. If I get one whiff of any outside interference, Jasinda will be dead faster than you can say 'forty yard dash.' Got it?"

  "Yes."

  "Good. Now, if you want me to keep her alive for you, you're going to have to do a little something for me."

  Craig didn't like the sound of that. Of course, he knew that the kidnapper wanted something. The man's tone of voice just went right through him, like the kidnapper knew the request would push Craig to his absolute limit.

  "You already said you didn't want any money from me. So what is it you want me to do?"

  Tommy Dagostino smiled. "Throw the game."

  Craig's stunned silence filled a good thirty seconds as his brain tried to make sense of what the man had said. "Throw? You mean lose on purpose?"

  "Uh-huh," Tommy answered.

  Craig had to break it down to be sure he heard correctly. "The Big Game? You want me to purposefully make the Tigers lose the Big Game today?"

  "Precisely. There's more."

  "More?" Craig repeated stupidly.

  "The Tigers must lose. But it has to be somewhat close and convincing. Gotta give the fans their money's worth. So you're going to see to it that the Tigers lose by six points or more."

  "How do you expect me to do that?" Craig asked.

  "You're the star football expert. You figure it out. Let me give you the proper incentive." Tommy walked over to Jasinda. He held the phone next to her gagged mouth. With his other hand, he clicked off the gun's safet
y. He jammed the muzzle into Jasinda's temple.

  Jasinda's muffled pleas and cries of terror fed directly into Craig's ear. "Don't hurt her! I'll do it! I'll find a way!" Craig yelled in a panic.

  "I thought you might." The smug sarcasm overflowed from Tommy's voice. "In case you get caught up in the excitement of the game... The fans screaming in the stands... The coach gesturing on the sidelines... The adrenalin rush from playing on live TV for an audience of 100 million viewers around the world... If any of that causes your conviction to waver, don't worry. We're going to be right there with you the whole time – and I'll be holding your girlfriend's life in my hands."

  "You're bringing Jasinda to the stadium?" Craig asked incredulously.

  Tommy laughed. "No. We're going to be right in your ear, literally. You're going to wear a cell phone earpiece nicely concealed under your helmet. Jasinda and I will be watching you live on TV from a safe location and we'll be able to talk to you throughout the game. Well, she probably won't do much talking, but we'll see. Maybe I'll let her kiss the phone to send you good luck."

  "Why do I detect from your tone that you're actually enjoying all this?"

  Even though Craig couldn't see him, Tommy shrugged. "Everybody likes a good football game. I'm sure you have lot to do in the next few hours before the game starts. The next time you hear from me will be during the pre-game show. Oh, and you better answer on the first ring. I don't like to be kept waiting. I get bored when I have to wait. I might use that time to decide that Jasinda doesn't need a finger or two."

  Craig kept silent, but every time the kidnapper threatened Jasinda's health and well-being, his blood boiled.

  Tommy reiterated, "Remember, Tigers lose. By six points or more."

  "Why is the exact outcome of the game so important?" Craig asked.

  "That's not your concern," Tommy replied. "You're only concern is to do as I say or the next ice cream sundae Jasinda Reed serves is going to be to St. Peter at the Pearly Gates."

  Tommy tapped the screen to disconnect the call. The sound of clapping hands came from the doorway. Tommy turned in that direction. "Hello, Father. I didn't know you were there."

  The bearded guy pushed Sal Dagostino's wheelchair into the room. "I was just admiring the way you handled everything. Nice touch on the finger threat at the end."

  "I meant it," Tommy said.

  Sal smiled. "I know."

  Tommy opened the cell phone and yanked out the SIM chip. He handed it to one of the henchmen. "Here, go flush this."

  "Thought you said the call was untraceable, boss?" the henchman responded.

  "It is. Just an extra precaution."

  Sal said, "I presume from what I heard that the football player intends to cooperate fully."

  Tommy glanced towards Jasinda. "Of course. He has no choice."

  Sal smiled again. "Excellent, Tommy. Then proceed with the second phase of your plan."

  Chapter 43

  As hours ticked away bringing them closer to their inevitable fates, Tommy allowed the henchmen to temporarily remove the gags from Kandi and Jasinda.

  "This is hopeless. We're dead," Kandi wailed.

  "But it sounded like Craig agreed to everything," Jasinda replied.

  "You must be the most naive person who ever lived. First of all, you said it yourself when you tried to warn Craig."

  "I just panicked, that's all. If Craig does what Tommy asked, there's no need for them to kill us."

  Kandi rolled her eyes. "Are you stuck on stupid? Let's forget for one second your history with this family and all the elaborate craziness they went through to get revenge on you. Let's focus on: we've witnessed Jefferson's biggest crime boss, his son, and employees commit kidnapping, unlawful detainment, illegal sports fixing, and God knows how many other criminal violations."

  "When you put it that way..." Jasinda gulped.

  Kandi continued, "So, yeah, after the final whistle blows, do you really think Sal and Tommy are just going to throw a big post Big Game party and the two of us are going to waltz out of here into the sunlight?"

  Meanwhile, at the stadium, Coach Benson and the players engaged in their various pregame rituals and superstitions.

  The team assistants had laid out the clean, fresh uniforms on the chairs in front of each player's locker. Some players chose to shower before suiting up while others skipped that step.

  Members of the training staff taped some of the players' ankles. Taping, as they called it, provided extra support and helped to prevent strains and injuries.

  A table half-filled with water, milk, sugary beverages, and (of course) sports drinks which many of the guys endorsed stood to one side of the room. Various snacks encompassing a range from apples to chocolate chip cookies covered the other half of the table. Some players chose to chow down on an assortment of items while others limited themselves to mineral water only.

  A couple guys had sessions with an acupuncturist which helped diminish or entirely remove lingering pain from any injuries accumulated throughout the season. Massages were another popular activity. They loosened and warmed up the players' muscles.

  His teammates noticed that Craig kept to himself. He didn't take part in any of his usual routines. He seemed almost in a daze, just responding to people slowly or taking longer than usual with everything. Out of respect for what he was going through with Jasinda, nobody questioned his lack of enthusiasm or consistency.

  For his part, Mr. Wilder's biggest concern was concealing the cell phone in his uniform and the earpiece inside the helmet.

  Team assistants watched with eagle-eyed attention for any sign that a player needed something. They were tasked with identifying and providing anything to make a player more comfortable and help him perform at peak efficiency.

  One of them assigned to Craig said, "Mr. Wilder, is your eye OK? I notice you've been reaching into the helmet and rubbing it."

  "Just my contacts are irritating me."

  The assistant unzipped the travel bag slung over his shoulder. He retrieved contact lens eye drops. He offered the bottle.

  "Thank you."

  The assistant held out his hand. "Would you like me to hold your helmet?"

  "What? Why?"

  "So you can put your eye drops in."

  "Oh. Um, no. I'll just put them in like this."

  The assistant's surprised reaction indicated how unusual that would be. "Through your helmet?"

  "Yeah, it's comfortable right now. I don't want to take it off."

  Since support staff had been well-trained to always defer to a player's wishes, the assistant smiled and said, "Of course, Mr. Wilder. Let me know if you need anything else."

  With the entire team suited up and ready to hit the field, Coach Benson called for the traditional team prayer.

  Assistants, training staff, and others cleared out of the way. The players gathered in a circle. They joined together as if in a huddle. They closed their eyes and bowed their heads. At the conclusion of the prayer, Coach Benson added a special petition for Jasinda's safe return.

  On the way out of the locker room, the linebacker playfully punched Craig on the arm. "Really sorry to hear about your girl. While you're out there today, make her proud. Win the game for her."

  Coach Benson called Craig aside as the players filed out. "Look, Wilder, I sympathize with your situation. I know we have to keep the sponsors and the fans happy so I'm going to have to put you in there at some point. However, I'm going to do the best I can to keep you out of the game for the most part."

  If I don't play, how am I going to affect the score? And save Jasinda's life. Think, Wilder, think, he told himself. "Playing might be the best thing for me right now."

  "We'll see how it goes then," Coach Benson said.

  Exactly sixty minutes to game time, the Tigers and their opposition, the Blazers, each hit their designated respective half of the field for the official pre-game warmup and the league's mandatory pregame inspection.

  Fans cheered a
s the players emerged from the stadium interior. Players waved to the crowd along with their various trademark gestures like thumbs-up or fist pumps.

  On the field, the league inspector said, "Your turn, Wilder," as the man's eyes swept from head to foot. The football player held his breath when the league inspector's eyes swept over him. He had concealed his cell phone inside his flak jacket under the uniform. Thank goodness some quarterbacks wear flak jackets, he thought.