“Because of him, my sister is dead. No more questions, Karen. The less you know about me, the better.”
She was silent a moment. “I have one more question. Did you really notice me at my husband’s trial eight years ago?”
He heaved out another sigh, his breath hitching at the pain in his ribs. “Yes.”
“What were you doing there?”
“That’s two questions.”
“What were you doing there? Please. Tell me.”
“I was curious,” he said at last. “I was pissed at the guy for stealing your daughter like that and not letting you see her for so many years. What a selfish prick. I wanted to witness the jury’s verdict. He deserved what he got.”
She was silent for so long that he started to doze off into the zone.
Her soft voice jerked him back to alertness. “John didn’t deserve what happened to him. It was my fault, not his. He died trying to save our daughter from a serial killer.”
Stoner squeezed her hand, but even that small movement caused pain to pulsate up his arm. “I heard about that. Your daughter’s doing okay now?”
“Yes.”
He hesitated. “It didn’t make you just a little bit happy that John Williams was dead after he’d deprived you of your daughter for so many years?”
“No.” She shook her head, her long bangs brushing forward to tickle his arm. “It just made me feel guiltier. I cheated on him, you know.” She spoke so quietly he had to strain to hear her. “I had an affair with his younger brother. He caught us together. That’s why he stole April and fled. It was my fault. I caused him to do that. I was an unfaithful wife. And the girl he stole, my daughter, wasn’t even his.” A small sob escaped her lips. “I was planning on running away with his brother and taking April with us. I was too much of a coward to tell John the little girl he loved so much wasn’t his.”
Stoner hadn’t known that. Hell, why would he? It wasn’t something she would be proud of. But it didn’t matter. Not to him. She was a good woman. A hell of a lot better person than he was. He couldn’t think of anything to say, so he said nothing.
She cleared her throat. “Before my cancer, I wasn’t a good person. You might have liked the looks of the woman you saw at that trial, but you wouldn’t have liked the woman I was back then. I was selfish and I used my looks, and my body, to get what I wanted. I said things at John’s trial that I later regretted. He wasn’t a bad person. He just loved April so much that he couldn’t bear to be away from her. He deserved her more than I did. He loved her more than I did. He was a better parent than I could ever be. Luckily, April has now forgiven me and I’m lucky to be allowed to have a relationship with her and my granddaughter. Never again will I take anything for granted.”
Stoner absorbed her words in silence. He understood. He’d made mistakes in his life as well and had learned most his lessons the hard way.
Her soft voice helped soothe his aches. Smooth, rich, addicting, it flowed over him, sweetened him, like chocolate swirled in black coffee. That’s what he was: bitter, black coffee and she was the sweet chocolate that soothed him, swirling the bitterness away. He smiled at his comparison, liking the way it sounded. Chocolate and coffee. He wasn’t sure why she was the only woman who’d ever affected him this way. He’d felt a magnetic pull toward her the moment he’d seen her on the stand in that courtroom eight years ago. For some reason, for which he’d probably never understand, some force had brought them together now. The fact that she cared about him and was attracted to him took his breath away, left him feeling giddy. He’d never felt giddy before, not even as a kid. She was too beautiful for an ugly old bastard like him. But dammit, he wasn’t about to let her go. Not now. He’d had the best sex of his life in that shower with her. He wanted more. She was right that there was something special between them. He had to survive this place. For her. If he died, he had no doubt she would suffer a similar fate.
And she was nothing but an innocent victim in all this.
He kept his eyes closed, but he felt her turn her head toward him, her soft breath on his cheek.
“I don’t care what kind of person you were before you came here or what type of life you led, Stoner. But if we somehow get out of here alive, will you let me into your life? Will you–?”
“Shh.” He lifted a finger to her lips. God, he couldn’t go there right now, no matter how much he wanted to. He didn’t dare hope for a future with her. It was unlikely at best, impossible at worst. “Let’s not talk about that right now. One day at a time, okay?”
“I want to get to know you outside of this place. I want to know if what’s between us is real or if it’s just the situation we’re in. Don’t you?”
“Oh, it’s real all right.” But once she found out he’d lied about more than just his name, she wouldn’t want anything to do with him again. His betrayal was bound to hurt her. But it was necessary. The less she knew about him, the better. Her life depended on it.
Though having Karen at the compound complicated his plans, he liked that she was here by his side right now. She was a welcome comfort in his dark, miserable prison.
“I’ll tell you what,” he said softly. “If we survive this place, I’ll take you to dinner, anywhere you want to go. Or,” he teased, “We can go straight to your house and fuck like rabbits until the snow falls.”
She giggled and squeezed his hand. “I didn’t know you had such a crude sense of humor, Stoner. I like it.”
The fact that she got him, that she wasn’t offended by his foul mouth or his crude comments, was another thing he loved about her.
Him and her…her and him…they were like beauty and the beast. An unlikely pair.
It was destiny.
That was the last thing he thought before the pain overwhelmed him and he blacked out.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Viper was undecided. Part of him wanted to kill Stoner outright, but if he did that, he’d never find out why Stoner was here. If he didn’t find out what Stoner was doing or who he was working for, then others might come in his place. The ultimate goal was to remove Stoner from the premises, piece by piece if he could, but not until Viper had uncovered whatever it was Stoner was up to.
The man was turning out to be tougher than most. The various tortures hadn’t worked. Neither had the whipping.
Now it was time to remove a limb. He’d start with a finger. Or maybe a toe. He’d heard that it hurt like a bitch to walk with a missing toe.
Or maybe he’d chop the guy’s hand off. Surely that would get him to talk.
Viper scratched his bald head. He stared out the office window. His marijuana grove grew right outside his window, where he could view the plants each day from behind his desk. Marijuana was not a hardy plant. It grew best in warmer climates. Which meant he would have to harvest the plants before the first frost, whether they were big enough or not. It had been difficult getting his operation to this size. He wanted to expand on it, make it bigger. He’d thought Stoner would help him do that.
But Stoner was a fucking imposter. It still rankled that the man had managed to fool him. Viper was not an easy man to fool. When Stoner had weaved that tale about wanting to work with him, at first he hadn’t bought it. He’d been too angry to even consider it. Now, after he’d contemplated the situation, he believed Stoner might be telling the truth. Greed was a powerful motivator. Maybe Stoner really did want to go into business with him. If Karen Williams would continue to show him how to micropropagate marijuana, they could make millions together.
But the real Neal Stone was here now. He wanted to deal too. The only problem with that was Neal Stone was a loner. He wasn’t a follower. He didn’t want to join the Cobras. His terms were that he would only do the deal if he operated from his own place. Viper was adamantly against that. Once a person entered the compound, they weren’t allowed to leave the group. Once a Cobra, always a Cobra. Only death would free a man from the Cobra’s oath.
Neal Stone hadn’t taken an
oath. But he’d entered the compound. He’d seen what went on here. He’d witnessed Viper’s marijuana grove. If they didn’t make a deal, Neal Stone would be competition.
Viper hated competition. He wanted to rule it all.
Viper stared out the window at the bushy green plants with their serrated leaves. He imagined if he were a plant freak like that botanist he’d kidnapped, he’d find beauty in the shape and design of the plants and their jagged-edged leaves. Seeing his future product growing so well made him happy, not in an earth-loving-green kind of way, but in a get-filthy-fucking-rich kind of way. Once he got the indoor grow room set up, he wouldn’t need to grow the plants outside like this, which was risky anyway. Once they got the cloning down pat, everything could be done from a lab. Faster. Easier. Less likely to draw the eye of law enforcement. Way more reliable. He wouldn’t have to worry about frost or cold winter months. He could do it all indoors. Right here at his compound. But he needed a lot of room to do that. Which was why he was remodeling a section of the compound into a huge grow room twice the size of his outdoor grove.
But he needed someone to clone the pot.
Ms. Williams was turning out to be a complicated mess. He wanted to kill her too, but he’d be a fool to get rid of a gift that could make him millions. He’d researched micropropagation online. He felt he had enough information to do it. He just needed the supplies and a lab set up here at the compound. But when he’d told the woman he didn’t need her anymore and he’d found all the information he needed online, she’d laughed in his face and told him even the most experienced botanists had a difficult time with the process at first and it took experience, and many failures, before she herself had gotten it right.
“It’s not something for amateurs,” she’d said. “I’m an expert at it now. I’ve been doing it for years. But you can go ahead and try it if you want, see how many times you mess it up, how many precious marijuana cuttings you waste. You can go through an entire stock plant in a few days if the explants don’t take. Plus, you’ll have to order all your supplies, set up a sterile, airtight lab, get the right medium…and you don’t know how to do any of that, do you? You’ll need an expert botanist to help you. Shall I go on?”
“No,” he’d snapped. Either she was fucking with him…or she was right. Viper himself wanted no part of the actual propagating. He just wanted the money from it. “I can just find me another botanist who will do it for me.”
“You could,” she’d agreed. “But it could take you weeks, months, even years to find someone. I’m here now. I know how to do it.”
When she’d refused to show the real Neal Stone how to do it, the man had backhanded her. But instead of cowering, she’d glared and informed them she would only do it for them if they let her continue to teach Stoner. She would show no one else but him. Neal Stone had struck her again before Viper had put up a hand to stop him. He didn’t want the woman injured. He needed her alive and able to work in the lab.
Viper had wanted her to see how pissed he was, so he’d forced her to watch while he whipped the shit out of Stoner. He made Rebel participate to try toughen the kid up, but the poor boy had been green in the face and had run out afterwards, probably to puke his guts out. If Viper didn’t need the kid’s veterinary skills, he would have already gotten rid of him. He had no place for weakness. Weaklings were useless.
Now the woman was in the cell with Stoner. Viper would let them be for a couple of days. If Stoner was still alive when he returned, the torture would begin again.
But this time, he’d make the woman dish it out. He’d hand her the whip and tell her to make Stoner talk.
If she refused, which he expected her to do…
He would have to torture her in front of Stoner. Not enough that she wouldn’t be able to work in the lab. Just enough to make Stoner give in.
That would do it. Stoner had a soft spot for the woman.
Or…better yet…he could threaten to let his men rape her.
Viper might not have to remove a limb after all. Threatening to let his men rape Ms. Williams might be all he needed to get Stoner to cooperate. Yes, that was sure to work.
By the time he was done with Stoner, the man would give him his real name.
Guaranteed.
* * *
Karen jerked her head up at the sound of footsteps. It was dark in the cell. The sun had gone down hours ago, but a small flicker of light from a full moon outside beamed into the tiny window, giving just enough light to see by. Stoner was passed out on the floor, his head cradled in her lap. They’d been here for three days now, Stoner fading in and out of delirium while Karen attempted to keep him warm, keep him alive, for one more day. The only indication of night and day was the light from the tiny window. Three times the sun had come up outside that window. Three nights of darkness had fallen upon them. This was the first night the moon had been full, its gentle light trickling through the window.
No one had come into the dungeon since they’d tossed Karen into the cell with Stoner. She was cold and hungry, and so thirsty it hurt to swallow. But she was more worried about Stoner. He’d barely responded since they’d whipped him and marched away. Had his mind gone when he could no longer bear the pain from the torture? She feared he would succumb to his injuries and they would both die in this cell.
“Karen,” a voice whispered. “Over here.”
Rebel.
Her heart slammed into her ribs.
Karen gently removed Stoner’s head from her lap, laying it on the floor, and jumped to her feet. She hurried over to the bars that caged them in. A small flame appeared as Rebel flicked a cigarette lighter and shined the light toward her.
“Here.” He stuck his hand through the bars. “Some water and some doobies for Stoner. It’ll help with the pain.”
Karen opened one of the bottles and gulped down several swallows. “Thanks.”
She took the joints from him.
“Tonya sent this.” He stuffed a rolled up blanket and a tube of antibiotic ointment into her hand. “It’s the best we could do for now. If Viper finds out I gave it to you, he’ll probably kill me.” Rebel hesitated. He peered through the bars to where Stoner lay near the far wall. “How’s he doing?”
“He’s alive,” Stoner’s voice rasped from the shadows.
Karen turned as Stoner gingerly sat up, grimacing in obvious pain. Her heart thumped. He was awake! He’d been passed out, delirious, for days. She’d been afraid he’d never wake up. She turned and made her way to his side. She lifted the water bottle to his lips and held it while he drank greedily.
“Thanks kid.” Stoner gazed across the cell to where Rebel stood outside of the bars.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” Rebel whispered. “I didn’t want to do it. I swear I would have called the cops, but Viper confiscated my phone.”
“I would have done the same thing in your situation,” Stoner assured him. “Don’t beat yourself up over it. All’s good. He’s got my phone too.”
Rebel cleared his throat. “Karen, don’t forget the lighter. Stoner will need it to light the doobies.”
Karen went back to Rebel. He passed her a lighter.
“Thanks Rebel.” She squeezed his hand. “Do you know if Runt’s okay?”
“He’s fine. He slept on the floor in my room with Scar the last three nights.” Rebel sighed. “Poor kid is so used to sleeping with the dogs that it’s hard to get him in a regular bed.”
“Viper’s doing, I imagine,” she muttered.
Rebel shook his head sadly. “Actually no. Viper doesn’t like anyone near his fighting dogs. He feeds and waters them himself because he doesn’t trust anyone else. He only allows me near them when they are injured and need stitched up or need their vaccinations.”
Confusion swarmed through Karen. “So why does Runt sleep with the dogs? I don’t understand.”
Rebel shrugged. “No one does. Maybe he feels closer to the dogs than he does to people. You can’t blame the kid, not reall
y, not when his father has treated him like shit his whole life.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, that’s why Viper was punishing him, because he caught him sleeping out back with one of his prized fighting dogs. It wasn’t the first time he caught him out there. The kid does it all the time.”
“Aren’t fighting dogs aggressive? Wouldn’t they bite him?”
Rebel shrugged. “Normally, yeah. But Runt’s not normal. He’s…special.”
Karen agreed wholeheartedly. “Yes, he is.”
“Well.” Rebel straightened away from the bars. “I’d better go before someone realizes I’m gone. I’ll keep an eye on Runt for you.”
He slipped away, disappearing down the dark corridor.
Karen went back to Stoner. She sat next to him on the floor. Unrolling the blanket, she tossed it over his naked body.
“Thanks.”
She helped him light a doobie and held it for him while he inhaled. He took the joint from her, leaned back against the wall.
“So, are you a regular pot smoker?”
He breathed out a plume of smoke. “I smoked it a little when I was a teenager, and a few times while here, but other than that, no.”
Relief swept through her. She had hoped he wasn’t a dope head, but he’d been impersonating a drug dealer, so she hadn’t known what to believe. “I heard somewhere that it helps relieve chronic pain and muscle spasms. Is that why Rebel brought it to you?”
“Yeah. Something like that.” He inhaled on the joint again, slowly breathed out.
“So you only smoked it here so it would be more convincing when you pretended to be Neal Stone?”
He put a hand on her shoulder. “Yes, but don’t make me out to be better than I am, Karen. I did what I had to do to get in here, and I’ll do what I have to do to finish this.”
By “this” did he mean his revenge? She understood that. When her husband had taken her daughter and fled, keeping Karen from April for over twenty years, she herself had been out for revenge. Looking back on it now, it seemed silly, childish even. She was just grateful her daughter was in her life now and that she’d been given a second chance.
Stoned (Unlikely Heroes Book 4) Page 17
