Wanted

by Kinrade, Karpov

  Leonard’s eyes flicked to the chest and then back to me. “A success. Thank you.”

  Success. I batted down a budding interest in the chest’s contents. Really, I wouldn’t want to know. What if it was something weird? Like a pair of walking clothes?

  “And I’m glad to be back,” Leonard continued, and then turned toward Jeremy. “And this, I presume, is your brother?”

  I nodded. It was odd, wasn’t it, just how much these people seemed to know. First Don, and now Leonard…but then, to be fair, who else would the boy in the kitchen be besides my brother? And I’d probably told Leonard about him… hadn’t I? Or likely the Count had communicated with Leonard in his absence. That made the most sense.

  “I’m Jeremy,” Jeremy introduced himself, apparently growing impatient for me to do the honors.

  “Pleased to meet you,” Leonard bowed. “Call me Leonard, if you please.”

  As they exchanged pleasantries, my mind wandered back to the odd video footage. No. Freaking. Clothes. There had to be an explanation. I grabbed my phone, searched on the internet for camera malfunctions, and began scanning the various articles.

  “Miss Kassandra?”

  I blinked and looked up. Jeremy had vanished from the kitchen. Leonard hadn’t. He stood next to his chest; his eyes locked onto me in open curiosity.

  “Miss Kassandra?” he repeated.

  I realized then that I must look a little odd, clutching my phone and ignoring everyone as I frantically flipped through search results.

  “Has something happened?” Leonard pressed.

  Like a video of just the Count’s clothes walking around in his office? Without the Count inside them? Of course, I could never show him that.

  “No.” I shook my head. I had to play things cool, safe. And anyway, maybe Leonard didn’t show up on cameras, either. He did look strange, so tall and thin. “It’s been fine here, but glad to have you back.”

  He nodded and didn’t say anything.

  Feeling the need to fill the silence, I said, “The Count is letting Jeremy stay here for a bit, and he’s changed the rules. He allowed me my phone.” I held up my phone as if that proved I wasn’t breaking the rules. I rolled my eyes at myself and kept babbling, “It’s been interesting while you were out. Learned a few things. You know, about souffles and falconry.”

  “Falconry?” Leonard’s head tilted to the side with interest.

  “You’re not a Falcon-ist?” What were they called?

  “Falconer?” he politely supplied the word. “Good lord, no. That sport went out of fashion a good two hundred years ago, maybe longer.”

  Well, the Count hadn’t gotten the notice. The fondness in his voice couldn’t be missed when he’d spoken of Ecaterina.

  “Falconry,” Leonard murmured as he returned to the chest.

  I drew a steadying breath and dove back into my own business. Why was I psyching myself out? There had to be a rational explanation for the video glitches, right? Like the camera glitching out on skin color. I felt good for about two seconds before I recalled it hadn’t erased me at all. But then, maybe just that section of the camera hadn’t been functioning…on both cameras. Well…it could happen. Couldn’t it?

  Or maybe it was some kind of a laser shield over the safe that interfered with video recordings. That was a thing, wasn’t it?

  “Are you certain nothing has happened, Miss Kassandra?” Leonard stood by the chest just watching me, brows furrowed in a perplexed line.

  “I’m fine. Really,” I insisted, plastering a big, fake smile on my face.

  My phone chose that moment to ping, announcing the arrival of a message. I didn’t have to look. I already knew who it was. But I looked anyway.

  “Thirty minutes.”

  I drew a sharp breath. Technically, I had longer than thirty minutes left. I had about four hours, but it didn’t really matter. I had the code. I’d give the damn thing to Don, hightail it back, pick up Jeremy and go.

  The phone pinged again.

  “Or else…”

  Right. Again, another ping.

  “Meet me here.”

  A location popped up on the screen.

  Now, there was no way out.

  12

  I pulled up behind the grocery store and parked my car next to a group of green, overflowing garbage dumpsters. Flies buzzed around the rotten fruit and veggies that had fallen onto the pavement. A health hazard if I’d ever seen one.

  And trust Don to pick such a disgusting location…but then, it matched.

  I clutched the key to the Count’s office in my hand so hard the metal grooves made angry red marks in my skin. The small slip of paper with the code to the safe burned a hole in the pocket of my jeans. I pulled it out and looked at the numbers again, though I had them memorized twice over.

  I checked the location on my phone.

  I had the right place, but where was—

  Don’s black Dodge Ram with tinted windows tore around the corner of the building, swerving a little as he headed straight toward me. He waited until I lost my nerve and dove for the passenger seat before squealing to a stop, less than two feet away.

  “Chicken shit,” he snorted as he hopped out of his truck. “You’re nothing but a chicken shit. It’s a miracle you pulled this off.”

  Ten minutes, Kass. In ten minutes, this will all be over. You’ve got that five hundred dollars hidden in the trunk. It’s enough to cover the gas to get you and Jeremy to Canada. All you have to do is pick him up from school and just drive. Forget the IDs, forget the—

  The passenger door yanked open and Don thrust his hand inside. “The code? The key?”

  I swallowed and forced myself not to think as I slapped them both into his sweaty palm.

  He studied my offerings as if they might take flight. “These better be real,” he said. “I know how to get to you and the boy if they’re not.”

  I nodded. “They are.”

  Don’t think. Don’t think how you’ve just betrayed the Count. Damn it. Don’t think.

  “Slide over,” Don barked.

  Shit. I didn’t want him in my car, but I had no way of stopping him. He already had the door open. I scooted back to the driver’s seat. “You’ve got what you wanted,” I said. “Deal’s done.”

  Don chuckled as he crammed his long legs into my car and closed the door. “Key,” he said, holding up the key in one hand and then, the paper in the other. “Code.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good, now use them.”

  “What?

  “You didn’t think that I was going to break in when you’re already there?” He looked at me with an incredulous expression. “Open that damn safe and bring me the contents.”

  He slammed both the key and the code onto the dashboard with such force that I cringed. Yeah, I got the message. He was letting me know I’d be the dashboard if I refused.

  “That wasn’t the deal,” I croaked, my throat drying up like a parched desert. Despair churned deep inside me. I should have known. I should have freaking known. This wasn’t going to end. He was never going to hold his end of the bargain. He’d be blackmailing me forever. Why, oh why, had I ever trusted him? Why the hell do criminals trust other criminals?

  “I’m in charge here, Kass,” he ranted. “And what I say the deal is, the deal is. That’s the way it—”

  “There’s something new,” I interrupted as a half-baked—ok, quarter-baked at best—plan began to form. He wanted to play devious? I’d perfected those skills when I’d been on the streets, begging for cash to score my next hit. Who knew I’d benefit from those now?

  “What?” Don stared at me in disbelief that I’d interrupted him.

  “The butler,” I followed up quickly, knowing I had about ten seconds before that fist came smashing my way. “He brought a chest. Huge. It’s important.”

  He held still. I exhaled a silent breath of relief. He was hooked. I could tell by the dilation of his eyes as greed slowly replaced rage. Now
, I just had to reel him in. Too slow and I'd lose him. Too fast and he'd become suspicious. I had to play this just right.

  “What's in it?” he asked.

  “Remember that small chest of jewels?” I waited until he nodded. “Well, this chest is bigger. Twenty times bigger.” Technically, I hadn’t said this chest was filled with jewels, but then, that didn’t really matter. I didn’t mind lying to Don. I’d say anything to get him out of my car so I could go collect Jeremy and run.

  Don pushed the car door open and stepped out while lighting a cigarette. He didn’t speak, he just paced back and forth, sucking his cancer stick, making me watch him take drag after drag. He knew it was a form of torture for me, that I hated things to drag out.

  It worked.

  By the time he finally flicked his cigarette onto the pavement, my nerves were frazzled.

  “I’ll take that chest, too. And if you don’t deliver it all?” He stepped onto his cigarette and slowly ground it with his heel. “This will be Jeremy’s head.”

  I swallowed. Whatever, Kass. Don’t let him get to you. You just need to get out of here, get Jeremy and run.

  “I’ll need time,” I said. I needed our trail as cold as possible before he even thought I’d run.

  “I’m not unreasonable.” He grinned. “A week?”

  A week? In my dreams I couldn’t have imagined him offering so much. I schooled my face into a look of outrage to throw him off track. “Not much time. This chest is bigger than the safe, Don.”

  He pounded the hood of my car with his fist. “A week. Don’t get greedy.”

  “Fine,” I snapped, reaching for my keys.

  But Don didn’t retire to his truck. Instead, in a flash, he was back in the passenger seat.

  “What the hell?” I glared.

  “Drive.”

  “Drive?” Shit.

  Don pointed to the left. “I don’t have all day. Drive.”

  What choice did I have? I edged the car around his truck and drove to the parking lot exit. “What are you—”

  “My house,” he said.

  My heart sank. A lot of bad things had happened to me in Don’s house. “What’s wrong with your truck? Talk about not having all da—”

  Don grabbed the back of my neck and squeezed. “My house.”

  There’s no way his fingers weren’t leaving a mark. Tears burned, but not because of the pain. The thought of me having to carry his bruises again dredged up so much of the past, the depression, the anger…the fear.

  “Drive.”

  I did. I don’t even recall the route I took. I just know about ten minutes later, I found myself parked in the driveway of Don’s rundown split-level, set back a bit from the street.

  Before I could react, he snagged the keys out of the ignition.

  “Out,” he barked as he exited the car.

  Shit. I should have seen that coming. Wake up, Kass. You’re not who you were. You’re strong now. I clenched my jaw. Right. And if there was one thing I knew about Don, he fed off people’s fear, sensing it like a shark does blood in the water.

  I steeled my nerves, kicked back my door and stalked after him. “Give me my keys,” I demanded, navigating across the yard filled with various motorcycles in stages of repair and decay and nearly tripping over a toilet with weeds growing out of it. How do toilets end up in people's yards? I've never understood that.

  “Oh, you’ll get them,” he promised. He shoved his screen door open and took three steps inside before turning to dangle the keys over his head. “Come on then.”

  My every instinct screamed that going inside that house was a mistake. I stayed on the porch and planted my hands on my hips. “I’m tired of playing games. Give me the damn keys so I can finish the job.”

  He cocked his head to one side. “You don’t want to see Jeremy then?”

  My heart fell to my feet. I was inside the house before he’d scarcely finished the last word. God. He’d taken Jeremy.

  The door slammed shut behind me, and as I whirled, Don grabbed my wrist, crushing my bones in a vicelike grip.

  “I thought you might pull this shit, you bitch, so I took out an insurance policy.”

  “What have you done to Jeremy?” I sobbed.

  “Nothing…yet.” He dragged me through the living room and down the narrow, dark hall. His carpet smelled like piss. “But I don’t trust you. The game we’re playing is gonna be mine and none of your bullshit.”

  He opened the bedroom door to the right and shoved me inside. I fought back, like my life depended on it, but Don was bigger, and in a battle of sheer muscle, he’d always win. Our confrontation ended quickly, with a punch to my jaw and a kick that sent me sprawling into a pile of dirty laundry in the middle of the room. Pain split my head, and the world around me spun. It took me nearly a minute to shove myself to my elbows, panting.

  “Jeremy?” I gasped.

  “Oh, Jeremy?” Don chuckled, crossing his arms. “He’s not here. I lied.”

  Shit. Shit. “So much for your insurance policy, asshole.” It was hard to talk. My jaw throbbed.

  Don laughed, a real, deep belly laugh. “That’s not the insurance policy. Believe me, you’re in for a real treat.”

  I regained my feet and staggered toward the door, but he just shook his head, watching me and grinning. Then, when I was a few feet away, he stepped back, slammed the door, and twisted the key in the lock.

  “No!” I screamed, rattling the knob, but it didn’t budge. “You come back here, you miserable piece of shit!” I shouted, pounding the door with my fist until I could feel the bruises forming.

  Don didn’t answer.

  I ran to the bedroom window and pulled the stained drapes aside, expecting to see a window I could open or break. Instead, I was greeted by a sturdy set of thick iron bars.

  “There’s no way out,” a small, despondent voice whispered from behind me.

  I froze.

  I wasn’t alone.

  13

  “Who’s there?” I gasped, whirling in a circle as I searched the room. Boxes, clothes, and trash cluttered nearly every square inch of the place. Anything—or anyone—could be hiding in here. “Jeremy?”

  I felt like a fool as soon as I said his name. The voice didn’t sound like his at all, and Jeremy would’ve rushed straight at me or called my name.

  When no one responded, I raised my voice a little louder, “Who is it?”

  Again, nothing but silence.

  Great. Now I was hearing things. I stayed by the window, feeling safer with a wall behind my back as I visually scoured the room.

  Suddenly, the door flew back on its hinges and Don strode inside, a small black bag in one hand and a bottle of Jack Daniels in the other.

  I watched as he kicked a cardboard box off a white plastic lawn chair and took a seat.

  “Want this?” he asked, balancing the bottle of Jack Daniels on his knee.

  “Not interested.” I wasn’t. The thought of getting back on that addiction train made me sick. I just wanted out—and Don locked in a jail somewhere far away or maybe dumped in the middle of the Sahara Desert.

  He dangled the small black bag and added, “Razors. For you.” He tossed the bag and it landed at my feet.

  I felt sick. “What are you up to? You can’t kidnap me. They’re going to miss me and—”

  “Chill,” he cut me short. “I’m not keeping you here for long. Let’s just say that I’m detaining you until a few things happen. Part of the insurance policy.”

  “If you harm Jeremy in any way, you’ll—”

  “And why would I harm Jeremy now?” he asked, interrupting me again. “He’s my guarantee, bitch. You’ll walk to hell and back for him.”

  I clamped my mouth shut.

  Don rolled his eyes, hefted himself off the chair and stalked forward. He was quick, but then, I guess I just didn’t have any fight left in me. I was too worried. I did push back, but he grabbed my hair and forced the bottle of whiskey into my mout
h. God, I didn’t want it, but my body did. A shudder rippled through me as the liquor rushed down my throat. I tried to shove the bottle back, to turn my head. I tried to fight, but I was gagging on the vile poison.

  “Swallow,” Don ordered. “Yeah, that’s my girl.”

  I choked. I’d never be his. Then, as the warmth of the whisky coursed through my blood, I wasn’t thinking about Don anymore. I hadn’t had a drink in such a long, long time. Part of me felt sick. The other part wanted to grab the bottle from him and finish it off.

  “No,” I gasped, finally succeeding in wrenching myself away. “Jeremy. What have you done with him?”

  “Nothing. Yet,” he chuckled.

  Don laughing was never a good sign. Then, something pricked my arm and I looked down to see Don holding a syringe.

  “What the hell?” I gasped. I never did needles. Never.

  “Good ‘ol Oxycodone,” he replied as he let me go. “You’re gonna feel reaaal good in about twenty minutes, so you better get back. I’ll follow. Just to make sure you get there in one piece. Can’t have you missing all the excitement now, can we? And anyway, you’ve got a job to do.”

  I stared at him.

  “Excitement?” I repeated hoarsely.

  “I’ll just get your keys, and then you’re free to go.” He paused at the door and looked back. “And don’t think of detouring anywhere else. You want Jeremy? He’s at the mansion. For now, anyway.”

  His words tore right through me. “What have you done?”

  “Better trot on back to the Count and find out, huh?” he challenged. Then, he was out the door and I heard the click of the lock.

  I lurched forward. I had to get to my phone. I must have left it in the car. I had to call Jeremy, warn him to stay hidden until I could get back.

  “Let me go,” a voice hissed from the mountain of clothing to my left.

  I paused. God, what was it with me and clothing? Was I going to see them all start rising from the floor to dance around the room now?