Hope of the Future

by Ariana Browning

  Hope hoped to kill him with a look. “I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of hearing me scream.”

  Scar-face slid the back of his hand across her cheek. “Such perfection. Silky soft. Love the way you sweet talk me.” Hope moved away from his touch, but Drew seized her throat. He tightened his grip until she couldn’t breathe.

  Hope thrashed about, trying to get Drew’s hand free, no such luck. If he kept it up, he’d learn she couldn’t die. She couldn’t have that. She had to fight, had to show him she was dying. That’s what happened to humans when they died. They died.

  What would happen if he saw her die and then—no, that couldn’t happen.

  Another man stepped forward. Thinking better of it, he stepped back, not wanting to end up like his friend who stood off to the side, nursing his head.

  Drew let her go. Hope sucked in a relieved breath. Breath that whistled through her lungs. She choked on the anything-but-fresh air. “Too bad I can’t have the honor of killing you. Now,” he stated, “shall we try this again?”

  ELEVEN

  RONIN STEPPED CLOSER TO the man who betrayed them. He pocketed the IDs Greg prepared. “It’s a sad state of affairs you’ve gotten yourself into, Greg.”

  Greg struggled against the ropes. Ronin had tied him to the table in the small room. “Furk you, Ronin,” he spat. “You couldn’t pay me enough to tell you where they took that woman. She’s a bad luck. Stay away from her if you know what’s good for you. Somethin’ not natural about ‘er. Somethin’ ancient and evil lives inside of that one.”

  Ronin shook his head, wondering where Greg had lost his marbles. “Do you know her?”

  “Da furk I need ta know ‘er for?”

  “So you have no clue who she is, but you’re gonna assume you do?” Ronin’s anger rose. He couldn’t believe Greg would think such things about Hope. Okay, he had that problem in the beginning too, but he would never have handed her over to someone for a profit, as Greg had, believing it was worth it. The more Ronin thought about it, the more his anger rose.

  A look that Ronin wanted to remove, smothered Greg’s face. “You fancy on ‘er there, Ronin? Shoot! How long ya known ‘er? Bitch ain’t worth it. Fetches good price, though.”

  Ronin’s fist made itself at home in the side of Greg’s face. Blood and spittle flew into the wall, dribbling downward in a miniature Rorschach painting. “Where is she?” he snarled. Rolling his shoulders, he worked to calm down.

  Greg spat a clot of blood toward the side, snorting. “Like I’m telling you sheed.”

  “How much was she worth?” Ronin asked.

  “A lot,” he barked out. “A whole furking lot. You can’t imagine what sort of offers you’d get for that little cunt.”

  The muscle in Ronin’s neck throbbed and strained to the brink. He clenched and unclenched his fists, cracked his knuckles, circled around Greg. A foul taste settled in his mouth. Every minute wasted was a minute Hope lost. The ones who kidnapped her could take her farther away, they could harm her, or—he didn’t plan to go farther with that thought.

  If something happened to her—

  “Do you have any clue what they wanted her for, Greg?” Ronin ground out, stopping the train of thoughts that wanted to keep overtaking him. He had to focus on finding her. Then he could focus on what he would do to the men if they harmed Hope.

  A craving for death seeped into Ronin and warmth followed. The blissful delicious warmth he loved so much settled within. A reward of someone’s life handed to him came forth and deep yearning for the hunt surfaced.

  “They said she’d screwed someone over. She’s a danger to our future or some weird sheed like that. Furk if I know. When you see that much coin, promised to receive? You tend not ask many questions. You be a good boy, ya take the holograph, and ya tell ‘em they’ll be the first to know if ya see ‘er.”

  Ronin’s rage coiled, his mouth grew dry, adrenaline raced through him. His focus tunneled on Greg’s face. Ronin’s hand twitched into a fist with the urge to strike again. He took a deep breath.

  He’d been in a special branch of the WIA—they renamed the CIA to the World Intelligence Agency—who specialized in retrieving evidence from uncooperative individuals. By that time, they didn’t have to be prisoners. When someone like Ronin entered the room, everyone paled, even his superiors.

  He flexed his fingers and circled behind Greg. “You are one stupid man, Greg. They don’t want her dead because she screwed someone over. She is an innocent caught in the crossfire. They hate her. That’s it. Because of you? She was thrown into the lion’s den. Not that you care, but you will once the pain starts. And you’re going to tell me everything you know.”

  “Ha! Bullshit I will, Ronin. You don’t scare me no more. Those days were long ago.”

  Greg was defiant until Ronin circled back around him. When Greg saw Ronin’s face, the amusement died. He paled, his eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to scream. With a quick thrust of his hand to the man’s voice box, Ronin cut him off. The scream turned into a squeak.

  “I still need you to tell me where she is.” Ronin gave him a tight smile. One that never touched his eyes. Ronin slid his knife from its sheath, Greg’s eyes nearly bugged from his head. Ronin grabbed one of Greg’s fingers, then held the knife near the first knuckle. “Each finger has about two cuts one can make. No point in wasting any bit of finger, eh? Let’s begin. . . .”

  “Are you sure this is the right place?” Cayla asked.

  Ronin placed his back flat against the brick wall. They were getting ready to go inside the warehouse—or what remained of it—where they were told they’d find Hope. A vicious grin touched his lips. “That man had no interest in lying by the time he told me where to find her.”

  Cayla shivered and shook her head. “Whenever I see that look on your face, I wonder about you. Is he alive?”

  “Would you want him to be?”

  “After what he did to her? No.”

  “I got enough out of him before the blood loss was too much. You didn’t come to me because I was fair and gentle, remember that.” His anger at the circumstance rose.

  Cayla appeared ready to hurl. “I want her alive, Ronin. I need her to—”

  Ronin raised a finger, cutting her off. “Listen.”

  Everything grew silent. A drop of water landed on Ronin’s cheek. Then another, and still another. Soon after, the flood began. Under the torrential downpour, the sounds of shouting arose from inside the building. Ronin waved for Cayla to move forward, pointing to a broken window, further along the wall, near the corner.

  Keeping their backs to the wall, they both moved along the brick with stealth-like grace. Cayla was first to peek around the corner. Water dripped from the ends of her hair, and her nose. She ducked under the window, then raised two fingers behind her, pointing them sideways. Two men, both carried rifles. They guarded the door to the warehouse. Ronin nodded, helping her back, making sure to avoid the window.

  Then the voices came through the broken window above their heads.

  “What I want to know is when we’re going to get her out of here? If it’s going to take a while, we may as well enjoy our time with her.”

  Cayla’s head whipped around to face Ronin. Her eyes widened. Hope had already been through so much. She didn’t deserve to be someone’s sex toy. Everything she’d been through had left a hole in Hope’s heart.

  Ronin reached down to grab Cayla’s wrist. He gave her wrist a reassuring squeeze. They had to figure out how to get past those first guards, to get into the warehouse. Five men surrounded Hope. Ronin and Cayla struggled to get a good view of her. With their obstructed view, they saw Hope tied to the chair, and nothing more.

  The men who were with Ronin and Cayla, moved further into position around the exterior of the building. Soon.

  Cayla sucked in a sharp breath, which drew Ronin’s attention. She pointed at the window, then maneuvered around Ronin so he could get a better look. Cayla’s face was white, an
d tears were forming.

  Once he was in front of the window, Ronin took a peek around the corner. The man shouting on the ancient radio in his hand, moved clear of Hope again.

  Half of Hope’s face was swollen. One of her eyes was on the way to swelling closed, blood covered the front of her shirt, a nasty scab had formed next to her mouth. Her head should’ve been hanging, but it wasn’t.

  Instead, she held her head high and her chin stuck out in defiance. “You know I have a disease, right?” Hope snarked. She was intent on giving them a reason to hurt her. Did she never stop?

  Cayla heard Hope’s remark too. Shaking her head and dragging a finger along her throat, she was trying to tell him, she’s trying to get them to kill her. She doesn’t think we’ll save her.

  Ronin focused on the window. A feeling of déjà vu overwhelmed him, adding to his already tense state. The muscle in his jaw tightened. His ears rang with anger. The torment of the rain did nothing to stop the pounding in his head.

  Drew grumbled on the radio, “Right.” Switching it off, he moved over to Hope. He seized her chin, then crushed a rough kiss to her lips, trying to shove his tongue down her throat. Hope squeaked under his grip and recoiled, thought better of it, then leaned forward and chomped on his tongue. Drew stumbled backward with a yelp. His blood slid down her chin, as well as his own. He cursed and gagged.

  One of the other men handed Drew a rag to wipe his mouth. He swiped it over his mouth then threw the rag off to the side. Once done, he stomped forward and curled his fingers around the lower part of Hope’s neck, then pressed the blade of his knife under her chin. “I will cut you the fuck up.”

  “Remember . . .” she wheezed, “disease. . . .”

  Scar face stared at the blood that dribbled onto his hand. What she said struck him in the stomach. He snatched his hand away faster than the speed of light, and stepped back, his mouth slack.

  An eyebrow rose. “You’re just saying that.” Drew’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t seem to believe his own words. “They wouldn’t pay so much for a woman with a disease.”

  “And yet, maybe that’s why I’m worth so much. You’re an idiot if you think they would tell you the truth. Maybe I broke someone’s heart and they’re hell bent on revenge.”

  He snorted. “Previous comment repeated. You’re one stupid whore, you think I’ll listen a word outta that mouth. We got plenty of time on our side, princess. All my men been doin’ reeaall fine jobs. It’s time they have fun. And you’re gonna give it.”

  Hope gave him a tight smile. “Not you? Ooo, here I was hoping I could spread some disease to ya.”

  Drew kept his mouth well away from hers. “Keep talking about diseases, honey. Don’t you worry. I’ll wait and finish ya off . . . for good.”

  Hope swallowed the lump forming in her throat and fought the urge to cry. Her heart tightened.

  She refused to allow her fear to take over. That wasn’t her. She had absorbed too many humans feelings from being around them all these years. Hope didn’t know how to be herself anymore, but she planned to die here and now, before facing the others who came.

  Adding extra sweetness to her tone, she said, “I can’t wait.”

  “Oh, you can,” he said and cut the front of her shirt open. He jerked, twisted, and snatched it from her body, then threw it to the side. “And you will—”

  The door crashed open. Everyone’s attention moved toward the entrance. Guns went off from all sides. Cayla rushed in behind Ronin. Once through the doorway, they both fired their automatic weapons. Others swarmed in behind Cayla and Ronin, providing cover fire.

  Relief tingled through Hope. Drew didn’t have time to react before Ronin targeted him. A hail of bullets struck him in the chest and spun him around, flailing wildly. The kidnapper’s gaze met Hope’s the instant he stopped spinning and collided with the floor. His eyes glossed over and death retrieved his soul.

  Hope’s attention shot over to Ronin. There was a protective determination in the set of his jaw. His gaze flicked over her shoulder and the gun went off once more. Bullets whizzed past her head, like an angry swarm of bees. The moist sound of bullets fup, fup, fupping into flesh and bone came next, followed by the thump of the man as he hit the floor.

  Cayla appeared next to Hope under a hail of protection to cut her free. “You’re okay,” with tears in her eyes, she shouted to be heard above the noise.

  The gunfire settled, leaving the building in a haze of pungent smoke. The scent more powerful to Hope than everyone there. She gagged. Cayla helped her stand. Ronin came over to her side as well. He slid his coat off and removed the top-most shirt, then helped Hope put it over her half-bare chest.

  The look Hope saw in Ronin’s eyes almost caused her to cry. His scent swirled around her, comforting her in its warm embrace. Hope winced from stretching too far and Ronin and Cayla exchanged glances when they caught sight of the nasty purple and blue bruise forming. Ronin offered his coat to Hope and she shrugged into it.

  “Come on,” said Ronin. “We have to get out of here.” Without thinking, he wrapped his arm around Hope’s waist to help support her, expecting her to object, and seemed taken aback when she didn’t tell him off for babying her. Instead, Hope leaned into him and allowed him to hold her weight.

  The three of them entered the rainy world beyond the building, shrouded in a veil of water. Beyond them, the surroundings blurred into a grey mist. For that brief time they may as well have been alone.

  Once they pulled back onto the street, another vehicle pulled up behind them. Hope turned to check, wincing again when she pulled her stomach. “We’re being followed.”

  Cayla handed her a bag. “We were supposed to meet up with them earlier after retrieving the IDs. They found Ronin and I knocked out at Greg’s place. They helped us find you.” Pointing to the bag she said, “A sandwich and bottle of water. You need to get food in you. We don’t have anything for pain.”

  Hope glanced up toward the rearview mirror. Ronin was watching her. She narrowed her eyes. “I’m fine.”

  “You don’t look fine.” Ronin didn’t sound in the least bit happy. From the lack of gratitude, or from what they’d done to her, she wasn’t sure.

  Hope smirked. The move made the scab on her lip break back open and she flinched. “What? Don’t think I’d win a beauty contest?” Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, she bit a piece of sandwich, then spoke around the food in her mouth. “Relax tough guy. You found me, you saved me. Throw a freaking parade why don’t ya. You’re the hero of the moment.”

  “Thank you?” he scolded.

  She gulped a few more bites of the sandwich, but couldn’t eat more and shoved it into the bag.

  “Thank you,” Hope said under her breath.

  Cayla bit back a smile in the passenger seat. Hope did as he told her. Perhaps the plan would work out. Out of the corner of Cayla’s eye, she caught Ronin shake his head and grin. A grin reserved for Hope. On the outside, it appeared nothing more than aggravation, but under that stern stare was something more.

  Cayla had been on the receiving end of that look many moons ago. When Ronin was frustrated with someone, he got a certain look in his eye, but if he liked that someone, it was different. Ronin was exasperated with Hope, but underneath was an intense attraction, maybe more than that.

  “If you two are finished bickering, perhaps we could map out a course to our next stop?” Cayla asked, trying to rein in her laughter.

  “Ugh, Cayla don’t,” Hope said. She gathered what Cayla implied with her tone. She slid to the side so she could lay on the seat. The moment she hit the leather, she sucked in a breath.

  “I’d never,” Cayla said, reaching to get the bag from Hope’s hand. “It’s nice to hear you speaking like a human being for once is all. Get some rest. You look like crap.”

  “Right,” Hope drew out the word, making it clear to Cayla that she was annoyed with her insinuation that there was anything between her and Ronin. Whenever Cayla wat
ched Hope, she felt like Hope’s mother. She couldn’t stop herself. The girl possessed the ability to make people around her want to protect her. That was if they got past that icy exterior and found the softer side.

  Hope’s soft voice murmured from the backseat, “How long until our next stop, chauffeur?”

  Cayla bit her lip and Ronin caught it. He looked anything but pleased over her entertainment by Hope’s attitude. “As long as it takes,” he said.

  Half asleep, Hope replied, “Always the comedian. My hero. . . .” her voice drifted off.

  Ronin glanced over his shoulder. Sleep sent Hope’s expression into one of serenity for a change, but it looked horrific. Once she woke up, she would be in more pain, worse than she already felt, despite hiding it.

  Under Ronin’s shirt, Hope appeared so small. The muscle in Ronin’s jaw ticked. The moment his gaze fell upon Hope’s wounds, it seemed that Ronin felt the strong urge to rip apart the man who’d done it, to tear skin from bone and destroy every inch of him again and again.

  Cayla had a hunch that Ronin finally understood why Hope was the way she was. He seemed lost in a million thoughts right now. Maybe he noticed Hope wasn’t as cold as she let on. No. The woman asleep back there in the seat was anything but mean. She believed it her duty to prove she was, but she couldn’t be.

  They drove on through the streets in silence, bumping around, forcing Ronin to keep the car steady. The hush of the abandoned zone eerie to one’s senses, the entire world seemed to have disappeared.

  Movement from Hope brought Ronin’s focus back to her. Her head had turned further to the side, revealing the scar along the underside of her chin. Ronin’s grip on the wheel tightened, but he focused on the road ahead.

  Hope didn’t deserve any more pain. It was clear why she was the way she was. Now maybe he understood why Cayla worked so hard to protect her. Ronin’s own protective nature had taken over back at the building.