"One latte, one melt." Jumping at the sound of my order, I quickly grabbed my goodies and rushed back outside, jerking myself back into reality.
Hurry. You need to hurry. Scanning the area for a pharmacy, I eventually saw a tell-tale green cross flashing in the distance. Getting a wriggle on, I was just about to burst through the doors when something grabbed hold of my arm. Spinning around to give whoever it was a piece of my mind, I was suddenly wrenched back into a side alleyway and slammed against the wall. Both the sandwich and the cup of coffee crashed to the ground. Before I could regain my breath, my attacker reached into the pocket of his coat and pushed something small and blunt directly into my stomach. Though it was hidden from my view, there was no question in my mind it was a gun. I didn't need to look upwards to confirm the person wielding it was Kyle, but I did so anyway, recognising his features even though they were mostly shrouded by the hooded jacket he wore.
"Well, well, well. Fancy meeting you here."
I tugged at his arm, testing the strength of his grip. Unfortunately it was tight, and I went nowhere.
"You try that again and I pull the trigger." His face was now up close and personal with mine, and I could feel his spittle on my lips. Trying to pull away the back of my head came up hard against a brick wall, and I grimaced. Then I heard the click of a safety being released. "Now we can do this the hard way or the easy way, Jen. Which do you fancy?"
"How on earth did you find me?" I spat. This could not be happening. Mark had assured me we were not being followed on the way to work, and this wasn't part of my normal routine. How had the bastard managed to catch up with me so quickly?
"The hard way it is. I much prefer the hard way, Petal." Bringing a white cloth out of his pocket, he smothered it over my face. The smell was a bit like acetone. It was pungent, with a slightly sweet edge, and I had a fair idea this was nothing I wanted to breathe in. Struggling like mad, while trying to hold my breath, I did my best to get out of that alleyway, while making as much noise as I could. All I needed was for one person to come walking by, and the chances were they would raise the alarm. Frantic glances to either side of me revealed no such luck, and my desperate attempts to dislodge the creep were worthless. He was far too big and strong for me to get past. Kyle had me neatly backed up against the wall, and this encounter was only going one way - south. My head began to reel as the fumes of the drug started to work their way inside me, and I felt my legs wobble. Trying my best to scream behind the back of Kyle's hand I managed to bite him, once, before my vision started to blur.
As I sank into unconsciousness, my last waking thought was that if Kyle didn't somehow manage to kill me, Mark would.
When I awoke my head had a lightning storm of pain to contain. Gasping at the agony wreaking havoc behind my eyes, it took a moment or two before I could bear to open them. Where was I? What had happened? It didn't take long before it all came flooding back to me. Kyle. That miserable bastard.
Trying to bring my arm up to my head, I swore as I realised that not only was I naked but I was hogtied up tight in a ball. Rocking backwards and forwards a couple of times, it became apparent I was going nowhere fast. Don't panic, I tried to tell myself, but that's kind of hard when you find yourself naked and tied up. To make matters worse, Kyle was completely nuts. There was no telling what he'd do with me, and whatever it was, it was guaranteed to involve suffering - and lots of it.
As reality began to set in, I started shivering all over as panic and fear took over my body. This was not good. I needed to focus, make note of my surroundings, and use any little thing I could find to my own advantage. Swallowing against the all-consuming pain that was raging fires inside my head, I tried to figure out where I was being held. Any clues to my whereabouts would be helpful, especially if a chance to escape presented itself.
Take this one step at a time and remember to breathe. Breathing was very important. Blinking a couple of times to get my eyes used to the dim light, the first thing I saw was the bare wooden floorboards beneath me. They looked old and worn and were scratchy against my naked flesh. Looking higher, and wincing through blinding flashes of pain, I discovered I was in an almost empty room with peeling wallpaper. Lots of leaves and grand flourishes adorned it, and once upon a time, it would probably have been gold in colour. Now it had been bleached by the sun and rendered a dull yellow, and the pattern was reminiscent of an old damask bedspread I'd once had. Michael loved old things. He collected antiques as if they were going out of fashion, pun intended.
This was probably a townhouse he'd just bought, and if I had to make a bet, I'd say I'd been stashed in the attic. There was little else of note in the room. It had been stripped of furnishings, and there were darkened rectangles on the wall where artwork had once been hung. The windows were shuttered, there was an old tasselled velvet lampshade above my head, and an old brass handle adorning the single wooden door. Not much had probably changed since Victorian times, bar a couple of plug sockets that looked decidedly incongruous with my current surroundings.
Desperately needing some water I wondered whether to shout, but thought better of it. Kyle never played nice. He would want me to suffer, and as soon as I was awake I would be fair game. If I had any sense I'd remain as quiet as a mouse for as long as I could. My husband would be looking for me, as well as my mother with any luck. Between them, maybe they could beat Kyle at his own game. That was probably wishful thinking, but I was in a very tight spot, and I needed to cheer myself up. If I was honest with myself, there was a ninety-five percent chance this was not going to end well, and they weren't good odds in anyone's book. No one had seen me being abducted. It might have been an hour or more before the alarm was raised. There would be no clues to my whereabouts bar the probability that Kyle was involved, but no one had been able to find him before, so why should that change now?
The urge to bawl my eyes out was strong, but it was hardly likely to help my headache or anything else for that matter. Stay strong. It was easier said than done, though.
What did Kyle and Michael want? What did it have to do with me? Wheels within wheels spun inside my head. For lack of anything else to do, I began rocking my way towards the door, which I knew would be locked. It begged the question what did I expect to do with it if I made the journey, as my limbs were tied, but I needed to do something. Inactivity would have me delving deep into the realms of panic, and I didn't see why Kyle should win the war just yet.
Footsteps sounded on creaky wooden stairs, and I decided to play dead once more. Talk of the devil and he shall appear. There was the sound of a key in the lock, confirming my earlier suspicions, and the old wooden door moaned and groaned as it was pushed inwards. More heavy thuds of footfalls sounded, stopping just inches away from my body. I didn't bat an eyelid, though.
"You can stop the pretence because I have hidden cameras all over this room."
I didn't believe him. How could you conceal cameras in a room that housed no furniture?
"Fine. Have it your way." Kyle's booted foot found its way to my exposed ribcage with a swift kick and I gasped in shock. "Want to play 'let's pretend' again, Petal?"
Funnily enough, I didn't. Glaring up at him I hissed, "What do you want?"
Staring down at me, his hands crossed over his chest, he dropped his head to the side as he leered at my body. There wasn't a thing I could do about it, so I didn't bother trying. I was damned if I'd give him the satisfaction of watching me struggle.
"I thought you'd never ask." He pulled something out of the back pocket of his jeans, and though I could barely move a muscle, all instincts screamed that I retreat. Pulling an iPhone up to his chest, he tapped it against his black shirt as he gave me a crude whistle. "It's time to wind your husband up, Petal. I'm going to take some photos." He messed about with a few buttons on his cell, and then I heard the familiar click of the camera app being pressed over and over. He took shots of me from all angles and got several close-ups of my face. Obviously these were going to be
sent to Mark, but to serve what purpose? Ransom?
"Do you want money? Is that what this is all about?" I whispered, still too mad to feel violated. That would come later.
"Dad wants money. I just want to play. You know how I like to play, Petal."
Oh yes, I knew that all too well.
"Are these photos for a ransom then?" What I was trying to say was: is there any chance I'm going to get out of here alive? Unfortunately he didn't answer me; he was too absorbed in rifling through his latest snaps.
"Ah, yes, this one should do it. Just the right amount of fear and loathing. I think Mark will love it." I didn't.
"He'll kill you if you try and pull another stunt," I threatened. Mark probably would too, given half a chance.
"Not if I kill him first. Right, what's hubby's number? Better get this across to him so he can stop worrying."
"You're an asshole, you know that?" I glared at him and I was so angry my whole body shook, not that it did much good, tied up as I was.
"Want another boot in the ribs, Petal, or are you going to give me that number?" By the light dancing in Kyle's eyes, it was clear he was enjoying himself.
"Go to hell," I spat, then paid for my outburst as his foot crashed into my body. My eyes squeezed tightly shut as pain ricocheted all through me. There was going to be a massive bruise there shortly.
"It's not a problem. I can always have it blown up on a poster and delivered by courier. Of course, you'll have to wait another three or four days for this to be sorted, but I'm more than happy to have some extra playtime. You don't know how long I've been looking forward to this moment, Petal. I have so much planned." He rubbed his hands together in glee. "Maybe I should start a few of my projects now and take some more photos, seeing as how you aren't particularly keen to get the ransom thing going. I think I could change your mind fairly quickly you know."
All the courage and bravery of earlier fled after that threat. I remembered what had happened in the depths of Albrecht's dungeons with the pinwheels and electricity. He'd threatened to use chilli salves on me internally, but Mark had thankfully stepped in to stop him. This time, with no one around, he could do what he liked to me, and I had a feeling it wouldn't bother him overly much if he killed me.
There was no point in using delaying tactics. All that would do was increase my suffering by a few days. If Mark was going to be involved anyway, we might as well get this over with. Reluctantly reeling off my husband's cell phone number I took a moment to wonder if he'd pay the ransom. I had no doubt Mark would if he could, but what if Kyle asked for a crazy amount of money? One that he didn't have? What would happen then? Would Kyle start cutting body parts off until he got what he wanted? I wouldn't put it past him.
Hearing the bleep of a text message being sent, a cold sliver of fear wedged itself deep inside my chest. There was a very real chance I wasn't getting out of this mess alive. It was entirely possible Kyle would take the money and run. After he got what he wanted, he wouldn't need me. All I'd be then was a liability - one who could rat on him to the police. Would Michael allow him to kill me? I wouldn't put anything past him. Christ, how had I ever got myself tangled up in this mess?
Replacing his cell back in his pocket, Kyle got down on his haunches so he could hover over me. It wasn't a friendly move. The man probably wanted to see my reaction to whatever bombshell he was about to drop next, so I steeled my expression to make sure he wouldn't get a whimper out of me. It might only be a small victory, but against this man every one would count.
Smoothing a strand of my hair away from my cheek, he brought his face so close to mine I wanted to vomit, but somehow I managed to keep it together. It wouldn't do to piss him off if I could avoid it, and I was pretty sure that splattering the contents of my stomach over him wasn't going to make his day. The sooner he got the hell away from me, the better.
"Well, you'll be pleased to know that's done. He's got twelve hours to come to your rescue, otherwise he's never going to see you again. I think that was blunt enough, don't you? Do you think he'll come for you, Petal? Does he love you, or are you merely one of his numerous playthings? It'll be interesting to find out, won't it?" Kyle grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked so hard I saw stars.
"What about the ransom? How much did you ask him for?" I'm not sure why I wanted to know the sordid little details, but I just wanted to convince myself that Mark would be able to pay it. Mind you, even if he didn't have the money he'd find a way. Mark was nothing if not resourceful.
"Oh, did I forget to mention that this isn't about ransom, Petal? I'm only inviting him over so I can kill him, after I've played with him for a bit, of course." Kyle got up and stretched himself out, looking down at me with eyes that were blazing with a crazy blend of insanity and excitement. "We're going to have such fun, you and I."
My face recoiled in horror. If I'd heard him correctly, I'd just signed my husband's death warrant. "You fucking asshole," I screamed before I could stop myself, and Kyle's face lit up with obvious delight. This was worse than waving a red rag to a bull. I lost it there and then, uncaring of the consequences. Rolling towards him, my mouth latched on to his ankle and bit as hard as it could. Although the bite was through jeans, there was no question the bastard felt it because he jumped back in shock. Then I watched his foot lash out towards my temple in slow motion, and I did my best to wrench my head back as far as I could. But I wasn't quick enough. I heard the sickening thud as his boot connected with my head, and then... nothing.
Chapter Twenty - Mark
Talking to the metropolitan police officer, I gave him a brief outline of what had happened and why I was so concerned. The officer wrote up the details on a large form and asked me a few questions of his own. Had I done anything that might have upset my wife? Had we had an argument of any kind? Was she happy when she'd left the office? Those kinds of questions were aimed at ascertaining whether I might have hopped out in my lunch hour to murder my wife. The husband is usually always the first suspect for that kind of thing, and I'd had my fair share of grief when Jen was poisoned last year.
Cynthia stepped in, thankfully, confirming that she had seen Jen leave the office, and more importantly, she also stated that I hadn't. The officer seemed satisfied for the time being and said he'd assign a team to the case and keep me updated. Meanwhile, he advised me to stay at the office, just in case she turned up. It happened, I was told.
Just before he left, he asked me if I had any idea where she might have gone if Kyle had taken her, as I suspected. I shook my head helplessly. The last time they'd abducted me they'd gone to an abandoned warehouse, but they wouldn't use the same place twice. Reeling off those details would only arouse awkward questions that I'd rather not answer. Maybe I would send some of my security guys around there just to make sure, though. There was a possibility she might have been taken to Albrecht, too, but again I thought it unlikely. Michael and Kyle weren't going to go anywhere I might catch them. They weren't stupid.
Anyway, after a forty-five minute chat I'd given the officer all the details he needed, and he reiterated what he'd said before about keeping me updated. I shook his hand and watched him leave. What now? There was little chance the police were going to bring my wife back, but I'd take any chance rather than none. Now I needed to figure out a way of getting her back, and I was prepared to sell my soul to do so. There were no bridges I wouldn't cross to see the safe return of my wife. You need to talk to your mother-in-law. Khalil's words were going to come back to haunt me - but he was right. I needed to speak to Laurel. She had contacts I could only dream of, and if we put our heads together, perhaps we'd come up with answers.
Warily pulling my cell phone out of my pocket, I looked at her number and grimaced. There was nothing for it; this had to be done.
Sucking in a deep breath, I tapped her number. My hand was shaking around the phone, and I suspected it was due to a combination of Jen's disappearance and the prospect of having to be civil to my mother-in-law. Bolsteri
ng myself for imminent annihilation, I prepared for the worst. She wasn't likely to be friendly to me, and she was even less likely to want to help, but I'd never forgive myself if I didn't at least try. Jen's life was probably hanging in the balance, and I needed to try everything - and this, in my eyes, was a last resort.
"Hello." The voice on the other end of the line was not female, and it put me completely off my stride. Having been all psyched up to do war with Laurel, all the air in my body left me suddenly and I felt like a deflated beachball.
"Is Laurel there, please?" I decided to be as polite as I could. My beef was with the mafia lady and no one else.
"Who's calling?" The gentleman sounded slightly bored, and it was clear he had better things to do with his time than chat to strangers.
"Mark Matthews, her son-in-law." I wasn't confident that was going to get results, but I thought I'd try and be civil for the first two minutes. The man put his hand over the speaker as I heard him call out Laurel's name. I had to take the phone away from my ear for a bit until he'd finished yelling back and forth with the antichrist; which was my new nickname for Laurel.
"She doesn't want to speak to you." Although I knew that, it ticked me off a teensy bit more than I was already, and I was near breaking point as it was.
"Tell her she will, so she'd better get her ass over here right now before I make it my mission in life to make hers miserable." Civility went flying out of the window. Was it wise threatening my wife's mother who could have me killed in an instant? Damned if I cared right now.
The Velvet Collar Page 19
