Chain of Title

by Robyn Roze

  A cold smile inched across Sean’s mouth, firming his square jaw, but not reaching his hard eyes. The knifepoint suddenly thrust under Frank’s chin, tipped his head back at the risk of impaling it. “Stop worrying about Shayna,” he rumbled threateningly. “That’s my job now. Just understand this, Chastain.” Sean shifted smoothly into Frank’s personal space, his eyes gleaming with a dark promise as he towered above him. “When this is all over, however it ends, you and I have unfinished business.”

  Frank flinched and then winced as the knife cleanly sliced the underside of his jaw, cutting a trail to his chin. He refused to make a sound, wouldn’t give this punk the satisfaction. “Don’t involve the police or anyone else in your mess. They’ll only fuck up what’s already in play and risk Danielle’s life. Business as usual for you tomorrow...sport. They’re watching you. No mention of my visit to anyone, if you want your daughter back in one piece. Got it?” he snarled with narrowed eyes and gritted teeth.

  Frank nodded compliantly, while trying to work out exactly who Sean Parker was. Could he really get Danielle back?

  “You’d better be at that drop on time, Chastain,” Sean warned with a scowl.

  “I’ll be there early,” Frank spat out, combatively.

  “You do that,” Sean hissed scornfully, before slipping back into the shadows and disappearing into the night.

  CHAPTER 27

  The numbness had spread everywhere in her body except for where the cable ties chewed into her flesh. She exhaled loudly, blowing strands of her dark hair away from her face, only to have them flop back and stick against her sweaty skin. Now, resigned to her fate, Danielle had moved beyond the paralyzing fear, becoming a buzzing mass of instinct on high alert. Thoughts of Harper, her family, friends, and everything she had to look forward to in life gave her a razor sharp clarity unlike anything she had ever experienced. It also outraged her that anyone was trying to take it away from her.

  She would find a way to survive this. That was the mantra she chanted in her head, as she honed in on the sounds and smells around her. All sense of time had been lost. The room she sat bound in didn’t seem to have a window, so there was no sunrise or sunset, no sounds to connect her to the outside world. In the end, it didn’t matter how long she had been here—it already felt like an eternity.

  Some of her captors had left earlier and brought back pizza. The pungent aroma of hot cheese and meats made her empty stomach growl angrily and her mouth water uncontrollably. She was so hungry, but they hadn’t fed her anything since bringing her here—wherever here was—only bringing her water from time to time.

  She smirked in self-satisfaction and her nostrils flared on a deep inhale. The sharp scent filling her nose was welcome, a symbol of a small victory. It had saved her from the one called Ramirez when he had brought water to her earlier. She cringed at the memory. While pressing a bottle of water to her lips, his free hand had pulled at her breasts and then snaked quickly under the waistband of her running shorts. She immediately and intentionally filled his rough hand with warm piss. She was pleased with herself. The lasting sting on her cheek from his hard slap was a badge of honor.

  At least she had bought herself some more time. For what, she didn’t know. Right now, she couldn’t afford to think too far ahead. Moment to moment was all she had.

  She suddenly froze at the subtle shift in the weight of the air around her. She angled her head attempting to check her immediate surroundings through the slit at the bottom of her blindfold. The only light in the room was filtering through the open door from outside her prison. Holding her breath, she listened carefully, feeling her heart beat faster and her blood pump harder. Somebody was definitely in the room with her, closing in and circling behind her.

  Just as she braced herself, ready to make a plea for her life, a large gloved hand clamped over her mouth, gripping her tightly. “Don’t make a sound,” the unfamiliar raspy voice whispered roughly into her ear, his hot breath skidding across her damp cheek. She stiffened, feeling something cold and sharp next to her arm. Then one cable tie popped off and fell away. The man clasped her wrist tightly and warned, “Do as you’re told. Leave the blindfold on and you might make it out of this alive—understand?” She nodded in response. Was this person helping or leading her to something even worse?

  He placed her limp arm across her lap. Danielle flexed her hand hoping to encourage blood flow to her tingling fingers as the stranger swiftly cut away the other ties. He remained crouched next to her and she could feel his gestures in the air. Was he signaling someone? Were there others—like him?

  “Not. A. Sound,” he enunciated coarsely, his steamy breath in her ear again. “You’re going over my shoulder. Everything’s gonna happen real fast, so hang on.”

  Before she could blink, Danielle found herself dangling over the man’s back, tossed there with the ease of a rag doll. He quickly positioned himself against a wall. Her body swayed as his head and free hand cut the air in hard, precise movements. Signaling someone again?

  Then they whipped around a corner and she braced her hands against his lower back, gripping his heavy clothing firmly, so she didn’t bounce so hard against his body as he raced away with her. After jogging stealthily and effortlessly down a long corridor, he punched open a door and bounded up the stairs, two and three at a time. That’s when she heard the crack and pop of gunfire in the distance below followed by shouting and certain mayhem.

  It wasn’t long before Danielle was suddenly jolted to awareness by the cool relief of crisp night air on her skin. She was finally outside—free. Or was she? The urge to remove her blindfold now was fierce, but she stopped herself. Exhaust fumes invaded her nose and she heard the idling of a vehicle drawing nearer as her rescuer, or new tormentor, approached it cautiously.

  Without warning, she was swiftly unloaded and tossed into the hands of another man. He pulled her close and held her arms firmly at her sides, but made no move to restrict her further. She had the sense of being in a van again.

  The man outside the vehicle barked harshly, “Keep the blindfold on!”

  She nodded quickly, unable to speak. Should she be grateful? Say thank you? She didn’t know yet, didn’t know the intentions of her new captors.

  She swallowed her fear as the door slammed shut and the vehicle sped away.

  ****

  The trembling began in the chilly waiting room, followed by hot streaming tears. Shayna didn’t make eye contact with anyone, didn’t want their sympathy or rebuke. This was her fault. Her own decisions had led her to this point in life. Trusting her former husband to be the man she thought he was had been a huge mistake. Hadn’t she learned her lesson as a child? People were never who you believed them to be. She should’ve paid more attention to the business and what was going on with Frank. Maybe she would have found out he had a gambling problem. If she had, he might not have involved himself with people who could hurt Danielle.

  A wave of nausea rolled through her. She could only imagine what the doctor was going to tell her. Shayna’s hand clamped over her mouth to stop the scream threatening to escape. Why couldn’t it have been her instead of Danielle? She inhaled deeply. Not Danielle. For as long as she lived, Shayna would never be able to forget Dani stumbling toward her in the low beam of her headlights, looking like a creature from a zombie movie. Pale as snow with sunken eyes, a swollen cheek, a split lip, and with bruises everywhere, all the damage recounting her daughter’s fight.

  Shayna raked her hands roughly through her hair and did her best to tamp down the nearly overwhelming emotions threatening to crush her under their weight. She had to get a handle on this, had to be strong. She wouldn’t be any good to anyone like this. Sniffling and wiping at her nose with quick swipes under her eyes she sat up and leaned back in her seat. Concentrating on deep measured breaths, she prepared herself for what was to come.

  Staring straight ahead and focusing on a serene watercolor mounted on the gray wall, she silently thanked Sean for whatev
er it was that he had done to get Dani back to her. Tears brimmed in her eyes. Sean, who was yet another person who wasn’t who he had appeared to be. She quickly closed her eyes and shook off the tormented feelings. It had been almost two days since she had seen him or talked to him. Sean had given her explicit instructions on what to do and say in the intervening time since he had left. She had followed his words precisely. The price was far too high for any deviation.

  Who exactly was Sean Parker? Since that night on the Tuscan Dream, she no longer knew. He had become a cold automaton, seeming to look upon her as an enormous inconvenience, barking orders and treating her as if she were a stranger to be dispensed with as quickly as possible.

  She dragged in a ragged breath at the recent memories. They had gone to Gaetano’s immediately after returning to Mt. Pleasant. Sean spoke to Johan and Vlad as if nothing had happened, all back slaps and meaningless pleasantries. She had smiled on cue like a vapid pageant contestant and followed him on his rounds until they made their way upstairs to retrieve her cell phone. Sean had scrolled through all of her missed calls and listened to her messages before tossing the phone to her in exasperation and heading back downstairs without a word.

  Later, at his loft, Shayna began piecing together the puzzle of the man she had thought she knew. He had instructed her to wait in his home office. She obeyed, and busied her frantic mind by, once again, perusing the collection of photos that documented his past, all neatly organized in well-defined groups by family, business, and naval service on the tan walls surrounding her.

  There were numerous photos of Sean and other men that she hadn’t noticed the first time she was shut in his office. They appeared to be at groundbreaking ceremonies, but not in Mt. Pleasant—not from the landmarks in the snapshots. When she looked closer, a couple of the men seemed familiar. She was almost certain they had been at Sean’s the morning she had interrupted with breakfast, and he had quickly scuttled her off to his office. She caught glimpses of much younger versions of some of those same men in photos with his parents and others from the mission-accomplished style pictures with Sean. That’s when she noticed something she had missed before—the trident on his uniform.

  Sean Parker was an enigma.

  Shayna now recognized the man with the hard empty eyes staring back at her from those military photos. The same man had been giving her orders since that awful night on the Tuscan Dream. The same man had given Dani her life back.

  She inhaled deeply through her nose at the recent knowledge. Who exactly were Sean’s friends? Which ones had he inherited and which ones had he chosen? Which side was he on? Shayna shook her head knowing that in the end it didn’t matter. They were her friends now, too. They had returned Danielle to her, and she would forever be indebted to them—whoever they were.

  “Mrs. Chastain.”

  Shayna quickly pushed up from her seat and met the approaching doctor who gently herded her around the corner.

  “Danielle is going to be just fine. She’s not eaten in days and is also dehydrated. We want to keep her overnight and set up an IV to get fluids back in her system. She’ll start feeling much better after that.” The doctor paused and her large brown eyes softened. “There is no indication of rape, Mrs. Chastain.”

  A gust of air burst from Shayna’s lungs, completely emptying them. Shayna nodded hurriedly and refilled her aching lungs. “When can I see her?” she asked with a cracking voice.

  “The police are talking with her now. They’re going to want your statement, as well. They may let you see her for a bit before they talk to you,” she smiled expectantly, waiting with slightly raised brows for Shayna’s understanding.

  “Right. Sure,” Shayna responded, shaking the heavy haze from her head. She knew what to say to the authorities and what not to say.

  Sean had drilled it into her.

  ****

  Eleven-forty-five. Frank had already been at Breakers Cliff for a half hour. He had only received one call earlier in the day from an unfamiliar voice reminding him of the drop off and time. Warning him of the consequences if he didn’t bring the money.

  His nervous pacing halted when his attention shifted to the lights in the distance weaving along the switchbacks toward him. He swallowed hard and wiped his sweaty palms across his trousers. Just then, a chilly breeze broke over the cliff top in time with the crashing waves below. Frank took cover in his warm running car, not that he was naïve enough to think he was safe anywhere.

  A dark sedan ground to a halt in the gravel a couple hundred feet away. With the moonless night and darkly tinted windows, he couldn’t see anything and no one was getting out. His heart punched ferociously against his chest and he brashly decided to make the first move. He wanted to get this done, get his daughter back, get all of this behind him.

  Standing boldly next to his car, Frank did his best to control his breathing. He hoped Danielle could see him from the back of the car, hoped it would ease her fear some to know that she was going home. He stood in place not sure whether to move forward. Flashes of muted light painted the cloud covered night sky in answer to the distant rolling thunder. The uptick in the wind beat against his windbreaker. Frank chewed at his lip and flexed his hands. He reached for the rear door and pulled out the large black duffle bag stressed to the seams with bundles of cash, dropping it a few feet in front of himself. He then stepped back and waited.

  Finally, the driver’s door opened and a tall, dark figure eased out. A flash of lightning only gave him a glimpse of the man approaching. The stranger had a familiar stride, but Frank couldn’t place it until the man drew closer and lifted his hooded head anchored with a cold sneer.

  “Parker! What the fuck are you doing here? You said you’d get my daughter back!” Frank looked anxiously around Sean back at the car that was still humming quietly. “Where is she!” he shouted.

  “She’s safe now. No thanks to you,” Sean answered calmly without emotion.

  “When? How?” Frank threw his hands up, shaking his head. “I want to see her now! Tell me where she is!” he barked impatiently.

  Sean moved in closer. “That’s not going to happen,” Sean said with an air of chilling finality.

  Frank gave Sean a peculiar look. “What? This is over now, Parker. Where’s Danielle?” He stared into Sean’s cold eyes and stony face; a sudden realization hit him hard. “You were involved in this all along, weren’t you? Planned it out so you’d look like the hero.” His stomach clenched. This couldn’t be good—unfinished business and all that.

  A crack of thunder seemed to emphasize Sean’s snort of disgust. “This fucked up mess was all your doing, Chastain! You brought a shit storm of trouble down...on both of us!” He inched closer. “Any finger-pointing by you should be done in a goddamn mirror!” he yelled with contempt.

  Frank’s blood ran cold from the ruthlessness in Sean Parker’s eyes. He needed to talk him down. Try to reason with the deranged lunatic. He kept his voice low and calm. “Danielle will want to see me. I’m her father and she loves me.” He hesitated, running the calculations in his head and decided to say it. “They both love me.” He surreptitiously slid his hand inside his jacket.

  Sean’s mouth twisted into a snarl. “I guess your definition of love includes rape, huh? You sonofabitch!” He punched hard against Frank’s chest knocking him back against his Mercedes.

  Frank flinched at the accusation and from the steel at his back. His nerves ratcheted higher as his hand slowly and discretely moved further under his windbreaker, almost reaching his target. “I’m sure that’s what you have to tell yourself, Parker,” he spit out hatefully, firmly gripping his pistol.

  At that moment, a heavy crack of thunder resonated through him and before he even understood what had happened, his arm twisted painfully and his hand slammed down onto the hood, his grip faltering and releasing the gun to slide off with a clatter onto the gravel below. Frank felt a growing panic and confusion mixed with a searing pain in his side. The sky lit up with a
round of lightning flashes and then the first drops started to fall. He looked down and saw Sean’s hand on a knife handle, holding it firmly in place in his gut. His free hand jutted out to grasp Sean’s throat, but Frank could already feel his strength waning. His eyes flicked in fear from the knife and back to the remorseless eyes in front of him, the sharp taste of iron now seeping into his mouth, the warmth spreading across his abdomen and sticking to his shirt.

  “You had it all, Chastain,” Sean ground out with vehemence. “A life any man would envy, but you pissed it all away with your mindless fucks and gambling. You put Shayna and Danielle in the path of monsters right out of a horror movie.” Frank groaned and gurgled as the knife twisted in his flesh. A macabre grin inched across Sean’s face and he licked at the raindrops on his lips. “It seems that your loss is my gain.” Frank wanted to speak but unbearable pain prevented words from forming. “And now I’m going to collect what’s due me. You see, I don’t do charity, so that big bag of money is going to pay me and everyone else who had to clean up your mess.” Frank’s weak grip dropped from Sean’s throat as despair began to overtake him. Sean leaned in closer. “And then I’m going to take Shayna and make her forget you ever existed.”

  Sean started moving Frank away from the Mercedes and he was powerless to stop him. He felt certain that shock had begun to set in and the maniac holding him up with a knife stuck in his gut was the only reason he was still standing. Fear for Shayna and Danielle at the hands of this madman horrified him. He tried speaking but could hear how garbled his own words sounded.

  “What’s that, Chastain?” Sean asked angling in and shaking his head contemptuously, huffing loudly. “They will always be safe with me. Don’t waste your last moments worrying about that. I’d much rather you think about why this is happening to you.” Sean dug the SOG SEAL in a bit deeper causing Frank to gasp and groan louder. “You might’ve been able to see your daughter, because I would’ve considered sparing you—if you hadn’t hurt Shayna—raped her,” he said sharply, turning Frank while still keeping the knife plunged to the hilt. “Think about that on the way down.” Sean glanced up to the dark stormy sky as it now dropped heavier sheets of rain. Then he leaned into Frank’s ear and said bitterly, “If you believe in a god, you’d better start begging him now, because you’ll get no forgiveness from me.” And with that, Sean brutally scored the blade up Frank’s abdomen before ripping it from his body, releasing a gush of blood and then shoving him off the cliff.