Bad Boy Rebel (Salma Rebels Book 1)

by Skye Darrel

  I place a hand on Maral’s shoulder. “The woman who came with me is in danger. I love her very much, you understand? I need to save her, I need to reach the road.”

  Maral takes a moment to absorb my words. “Follow me,” she says.

  30

  Princess Against Monsters

  Natalie

  The sky grows brighter in the east. Hoyt Dunkel takes a different road driving me back to Asher’s house, where Verne Resnik is waiting. I try to stay calm in the passenger seat of his police cruiser and succeed for the most part, scribbling in my notebook to keep my mind busy, staring outside to watch the trees whip past.

  Dunkel holstered his revolver when he put me in his car. He didn’t bother putting me in the backseat. He must think I can’t do him any harm and he’s probably right.

  “What you writing, missy?” he says.

  “It’s Ms. Whipple to you. I’m preparing my last will and testament.” Actually I’m drawing scraggly lines over and over. Waste of good paper too.

  “I ain’t gonna kill you,” Dunkel says.

  “Oh, so you’ll let me go?”

  “That’s up to Resnik. Play it smart and you might live.”

  Doubt it.

  I flip to Asher’s portrait, the one I finished that night in the back lot of Goldilocks. It feels like a lifetime ago. I think back to what happened after I’d finished and smile in the dark car. Then my smile dies. I can’t bear to think what’s happening to him now. If he’s even alive.

  I glance at the monster beside me. “You’ve been looking for Swann all along.”

  “Can’t have that runaway tramp mouthing off about me,” Dunkel says. “My name means something in this town, and it’s gonna stay that way. I’m a good man,” he grumbles, nodding to himself.

  I remember how scared Maral Swann looked in that cave, the haunted look in her eyes. I think back to how evasive Dunkel had been in his office when Asher and I confronted him. “Did you rape her two years ago? Is that why she needed Priscilla’s help?”

  Dunkel jerks the wheel and we swerve over the road before he steadies the car. My pulse skyrockets.

  “I did nothing of the sort,” he says hoarsely. “She wanted it. The little harlot was begging for it so I gave it to her.”

  I shudder. Hoyt Dunkel is as much a psychopath as Resnik, just a different kind.

  “You and Asher Wade brought this on yourselves,” he says. “Coming to my office threatening me. I had to act.”

  “You lured Juno to Rene’s apartment.”

  “Juno Newlin and the Wades were thick as thieves. If anyone knew anything, it’d be her.”

  “You’re an asshole, Hoyt.”

  “What if I am? What can you do about it, missy?”

  Not much, admittedly.

  As a new day dawns, we stop at the curb in front of Asher’s house. It’s already hot outside.

  Two red pickup trucks and a blocky SUV are parked ahead. Men stand by the trucks talking like it’s a typical morning, and though I don’t see any guns, I’m sure they have them in reach. They give me cold looks as I shuffle past with Dunkel on my heels.

  He brings me to the living room, where Verne Resnik is sitting on Asher’s big sofa with a leg crossed. Wearing a dark suit, Resnik watches as Dunkel orders me to sit in a chair facing the sofa.

  “Where’s Hansel?” I say, suddenly more worried about that scruffy pup than myself.

  Resnik studies me with empty eyes that reflect nothing. “Listen,” he says.

  The house makes its creaking noises before a mournful howl pierces the quiet.

  “I had him locked upstairs,” Resnik says. “He was Priscilla’s dog. I didn’t have the heart to put him down.”

  “So you murdered her but spared her dog.”

  “Her dog didn’t threaten to destroy my casino. Her dog didn’t threaten to end everything I worked for.” Resnik’s eyes flicker. “Priscilla Wade betrayed me.”

  I clutch my bag. “She didn’t want anything to do with your twisted world.”

  “You know nothing about me,” Resnik says. “You’re an outsider, Ms. Whipple. If you had left town, you would not be sitting in that chair now.”

  “Nothing wrong with this chair. It’s comfy.”

  Resnik’s smile is fearsome. “Bring them,” he yells.

  I turn to see Sledge, that hairy nightmare lumberjack with the brutal features, shoving Juno and Cora into the room. My chest crumbles. Eli enters as well, but he’s not being guarded.

  “The boy warned us about your plans after Asher questioned him,” Resnik says. “He didn’t want Asher Wade to kill his father. Now that’s loyalty I can admire.”

  Eli’s eyes are on the floor, hands in his pockets. Cora sobs quietly, held by her mother’s arm. I catch Juno’s gaze and she gives me an encouraging nod, even now. I nod back.

  “I haven’t decided what to do with the Newlins,” Resnik says.

  “You promised you wouldn’t hurt Cora,” Eli blurts out. “That was part of our deal!”

  Stupid, stupid, stupid. I want to scream at him.

  “Your father would not hesitate to do what’s necessary,” Resnik says flatly.

  “I’m not my dad,” Eli says.

  No, he’s not. His dad would’ve stood up to his dad.

  Resnik waves his hand and Sledge shoves them out of the room again. Juno gives me a parting look, as if it to bid me farewell. Cora sobs louder. Eli stands unmoving until another of Resnik’s men steers him out by the shoulder.

  I close my eyes for a moment and think of Asher’s face. When I left that cave, Titus had him at gunpoint. I can’t imagine Titus would show any mercy.

  “If you’re gonna kill me,” I say, “get on with it.”

  “I won’t lie to you,” Resnik says. “You won’t leave Salma’s Hope alive. But I must know something first.”

  So much for playing it smart. “What?”

  “Have you told anyone else about what you’ve learned these past weeks? Your parents? Friends? Does anyone else know? How did Asher Wade get his hands on that recording?”

  Standing beside the sofa, Dunkel smiles smugly.

  “You’re gonna kill me anyway,” I reply. “I won’t tell you a thing.”

  “There are different ways to die,” Resnik says. “Some far less pleasant than others. Titus is an expert in such methods. He won’t just take your life, he’ll take your dignity and honor. Speak, and I won’t hand you over.”

  I feel a pang of homesickness and wonder what my parents are doing right now. I wish I could see Asher one last time.

  I wonder if Gatsby’s house will ever get sold. I wonder if anyone will ever find my notebook filled with my drawings.

  My mind slips, tears burning at the back of my eyes. I don’t want to cry, but Resnik is a hammer that beats you until you break.

  A phone on the coffee table rings. Asher’s landline.

  I flinch.

  After four rings, the phone goes silent. Then it rings again.

  “Get that,” Resnik orders me. “Tell the caller Asher isn’t home.”

  Dunkel presses his gun to the back of my neck. I walk to the coffee table and pick up the phone, holding it to my ear with a sweaty palm. “H-Hello?”

  “Who’s this?” Deputy Murphy’s kind voice does wonders for my spirits.

  “Natalie Whipple,” I say quickly.

  “The summer camp girl! How you doing, Ms. Whipple? Asher Wade thereabouts? I need a word with him, it’s important.”

  Resnik taps the speaker button so he can hear. The cold metal of Dunkel’s revolver pushes into my spine.

  “Asher’s not here,” I say, my mind racing.

  “Some folks are looking for him,” Murphy says. “State troopers with an arrest warrant or some such thing. There’s a Mr. Branigan with them who says Asher punched him at Goldilocks. He’s outside the station right now waiting with the troopers. Mighty irritated.”

  My heart skips a beat. “Mr. Branigan is my boss,” I say s
lowly. “Please tell him Asher isn’t home right now, tell him I said that. He should come back another day. Bye now.”

  I hang up and sit again with bag in my lap, my fingers rubbing the patch made from Asher’s shirt. I know my boss. No one tells him what to do, least of all me. With any luck, Branigan will come straight here and bring the troopers with him.

  “So where were we?” I say to Verne Resnik.

  The man studies me for a moment, and I have a feeling he sees right through my ruse.

  He smiles for a moment. “Have you been to my casino, Ms. Whipple?”

  “I told you when we met I don’t gamble.”

  “And I told you we all gamble, but some of us don’t know it.” He looks at Dunkel. “We’re leaving. Take the Newlin women and Eli with you. Tell the others to clean up. Everyone out in five minutes. Go straight to the casino.”

  Crap.

  The chief leaves me alone with Resnik.

  He walks over to my chair, standing over me, and his eyes are stone cold.

  “Um . . .”

  He slaps me across the face so hard I fall out of the chair and hit the floor. Fire sheets the left side of my head. I think I bit the inside of my cheek because I taste blood. He grabs my arms and jerks me to my feet and he swings his hand again. This time I cover my face, squeezing my eyes shut.

  All I feel are his fingers sweeping the hair out of my eyes, patting my shoulder. I hear how hard I’m breathing.

  “Open your eyes.”

  I meet his empty stare, and though his expression is blank, I see something twisted and malevolent.

  “You will come with me, Ms. Whipple. I trust you understand now what kind of man I am.”

  31

  Knight in Black Armor

  Asher

  We walked all night to reach my Mustang, two wanderers on the roadside, and not a single car passed us. Maral carried my sister’s duffle bag the whole way. I nearly fainted again when we found my car, and Maral helped me behind the wheel before she climbed into the passenger side.

  I’ve been driving since. Following the road back to my house. Maral sits in the passenger seat holding that bag, stuffed with a few possessions she took from the cave. She’s still worried I’ll take the bag from her.

  “It’s yours,” I say softly. “Pris wanted you to have it. It’s yours.”

  Funny how a simple bag can mean so much.

  If I weren’t my sister’s brother, this girl wouldn’t trust me at all.

  She told me during our hike to the car why Pris never took her to the police. Any police. My sister had wanted to, but Maral begged Pris otherwise. The girl didn’t trust any authority, not after Chief Dunkel, not after everything else that had happened in her life.

  Maral Swann ran away from her home in South Carolina at age fifteen. Her father was a junkie, and her mother worked the streets. She hadn’t been to school since she was eleven, but no one bothered to check. She fell through the cracks.

  She spent a few weeks hitchhiking her way up I-95, “doing favors to pay her way,” she told me, and I didn’t ask what kind of favors.

  She ended up in Salma’s Hope, half-starved with not a dime left, stranded by a trucker at a dingy motel near the highway exit.

  Ruby’s Motel.

  One of Resnik’s people happened to be in the area doing a deal. He picked her up, took her back to the casino, where they put her to work. They didn’t care how old she was, and they didn’t ask.

  She doesn’t trust any authority. The only kindness she’s known all her life is my sister. Even with me, she’s skittish.

  “We’re almost there,” I say, turning onto Beech Road.

  “Priscilla’s house?”

  “Yeah. Our family home.”

  My chest tightens when I see two police cruisers parked at the curb in front of my driveway. Branigan’s green Porsche parked nearby.

  No sign of Verne Resnik or Natalie. Her Beetle is still in my driveway.

  The cruisers are state police.

  Four troopers in tan uniforms are checking my front door and Branigan stands behind them. When he sees me pull up, Branigan tells one of the troopers and points at me, his face vicious and excited.

  He finally came with his arrest warrant.

  I can’t decide if the timing’s good or bad. I’ll just have to make it good.

  Maral shies against her seat. “You said no cops!”

  “They’re not here for you.”

  She doesn’t believe me.

  I remind myself to be patient. “Stay in the car, I’ll talk to them.”

  The troopers watch me with hands on their sidearms as I get out. Branigan the Third marches over, but even he looks aghast at my appearance.

  “What the hell happened to you?” is his greeting.

  I’m shirtless. What’s left of my shirt is wrapped around my waist. I still have my vest on, stuffed with extra mags for my rifle. My jeans are dusty and blood-stained, the rest of me no better. I’m running on adrenaline and a desperate need to find Natalie.

  My vision of Branigan wobbles, and I see two of him before they blend together again. “Long story,” I say at last. “Did you see Natalie?”

  “Huh?”

  “The real estate agent you sent to this town. Have you seen her?”

  Branigan shakes his head. “I didn’t see anyone.” His face hardens. “She was here this morning. She answered your phone. Where the hell have you been? You know what, I don’t care. Officers! This is the man who assaulted me.”

  I think for a moment. Resnik must’ve taken her to the casino, the only place he could’ve gone. Need to get there, but first—the troopers.

  A sharp-looking woman approaches me carefully. Her nametag reads A. Ruiz. She sizes me up for any immediate threat. “Mr. Wade?”

  “Yeah.”

  “We have a warrant for your arrest.”

  “I know.”

  Ruiz orders a young trooper named Odell to check my Mustang. The remaining officers stare at me like I’m a ghost, but so far no one has unholstered their guns and I need to keep it that way.

  “He’s got a girl in his vehicle,” Odell yells. “Weapon in the backseat!”

  I turn around to see Trooper Odell holding up my modified AR-15. “It’s an automatic,” he shouts.

  That’s a felony in this state.

  Ruiz puts her hand on the grip of her sidearm, seconds away from slapping me in handcuffs and reading me my rights.

  “A woman’s in danger,” I say. My voice sounds calmer than I feel. “Men kidnapped her and took her to the casino outside town. You need to go there.”

  Branigan snorts. “You’re the only danger here, Wade. Look at you. My God, I knew you were crazy but this takes the cake.”

  I look Ruiz in the eye and feel a connection between us I hope is real. “Were you in the service?” I ask her.

  “Marines,” she says simply.

  “Army,” I say. “Special forces.”

  She stares at me in silence.

  “All I’m asking is you check out this casino first.” I put my hands out. “Cuff me if you want. Arrest me later. Just check it out first.”

  “Who’s the girl in your car?” she says.

  I answer with the closest thing to truth, “My sister’s kid. Got lost camping.”

  Branigan’s face goes red. “Why are you listening to this lunatic, officer? He assaulted me!”

  Ruiz looks at him and looks at me. I can see her mind weighing the probabilities and possibilities.

  She looks over my shoulder. “Did the girl say anything, Odell? Is she injured?”

  “No obvious injuries,” Odell says. “Appears malnourished. She says he’s telling the truth.”

  “Get back in your car,” Ruiz says to me. “We’ll follow you to the casino. If you make one suspicious move, it’s over, understand?”

  “Roger that.”

  Branigan sputters. “You’re going to listen to him?”

  “I have probable cause to
investigate a crime,” she says, walking back to her cruiser.

  Branigan throws up his hands and stomps back to his Porsche.

  I get in my Mustang while Odell jogs to his squad car with my rifle. Starting the engine, I glance at Maral.

  “We’re going back to the casino,” I say. “That woman who came with me to the cave, her name’s Natalie. We’re going to find her and find the men who hurt you. Do you understand?”

  Maral nods. “Find Hoyt Dunkel?”

  “Him too.”

  I make a U-turn and speed up, both cruisers in my rearview mirror and Branigan’s Porsche bringing up the rear. I see Natalie’s face in my mind before I floor the gas.

  The parking lot of Lucky Cherries is deserted. Besides a row of red pickups. I park my Mustang at the casino’s main entrance. The cruisers stop behind me. Branigan slides his Porsche in front of my car and comes out fuming.

  “Why is that man angry?” Maral whispers.

  “He has a stick up his ass.” I look at Maral and she sort of smiles. “Sit tight, okay?”

  She hugs her bag.

  When I get out, Branigan is in my face. Then he looks at the blood on my pants, and for the first time since I’ve known him, he holds his mouth, waiting for the officers.

  Ruiz orders Odell to watch me while she and the other troopers approach the thick double doors of the casino’s entrance. She pushes, but the doors don’t budge. Ruiz presses an intercom, speaks with someone. The doors open.

  “Watch your back!” I say.

  “You stay right there,” Ruiz yells.

  Branigan starts to follow them.

  “I’d wait outside,” I tell him.

  He gives me the middle finger and hurries in.

  Odell stands five feet away with one hand resting on his holster.

  I lean against my Mustang. I try to ignore the pain throbbing in my guts, the nausea in my stomach. My face feels warm and I may have a temperature with infection setting in, but the last thing I want is an ambulance. Not until Natalie is safe. I’m ready to die for her. If I could save her by dying, I would in an instant.