Deal with the Devil

by Stacia Stone

  Assuming he’s not already dead.

  That thought sends tendrils of icy pain shooting through me. He can’t be dead. The universe wouldn’t be that cruel, not after everything I’ve been through. Why would fate finally send me someone to love and then just rip him away?

  I have to stay calm. I can’t think about what I’m going to do if Leo never comes back to me. But at what point do I start making a plan to take care of myself? I don’t even know where to start — where do I go? What do I do?”

  A loud ringing jars me from my thoughts.

  It sounds like a phone, but that can’t be right. There aren’t any phones here. Leo was pretty clear about that. In fact, I whined and complained about that fact for at least an hour on the way up here. He promised to pick us up burners when he had a chance.

  Maybe that’s what is taking him so long to get back, I wonder. Though I don’t actually believe it.

  The sound only gets louder as I move through the small cabin. The ringing is loud and shrill. It’s an old-fashioned sort of ring, like one of those plastic rotary phones off of a sitcom.

  I trace the sound to the kitchen, where it’s loudest. Admittedly, I haven’t spent much time in here. Leo does all of the cooking. If you consider preparing things that only require a microwave the same as cooking. But I’ve been in here enough times to remember if there’s a phone, or not.

  The ringing is oppressively loud as I stand in the center of the linoleum floor and look around. But there’s no obvious source for the sound.

  Please don’t hang up, I think. It has to be Leo. Which means there’s a landline around here somewhere that he never bothered to tell me about.

  The kitchen has a door, which I’d thought was weird when Leo first showed me around the house. He said it’s normal with winter cabins like this to put doors in every room. It helps the trap the heat in whatever area you happen to be in on cold days.

  Feeling like an idiot, I close the door while still inside the kitchen. A corded phone hangs on the wall next to the frame. It’s completely hidden when the door is open. The phone is the cheap kind that doesn’t have a caller ID.

  I grab it in the middle of the next ring.

  “Hello?” I gasp. “Leo?”

  “Mara!” The voice is high, strident and decidedly female. “Are you there?”

  “Who is this?” What the fuck?

  “It’s Mommy.”

  My stomach drops. There’s only one reason why she would call this number — only one reason why she would have it at all. And I’ve never called that bitch mommy even once in my entire life.

  “Where’s Leo.”

  “They have him, Mara. I’m so sorry this has got so out of hand.”

  Out of hand, that’s what she wanted to call sending a bunch of dangerous bikers after me?

  “What do you want?”

  “You just have to come, baby. Nothing will happen to Leo if we get the money. These men won’t stop until they get paid. Everything will be okay again if you just come sign the papers.”

  They have Leo. That’s the only part of this that matters. I don’t even care about the money. The bitch can take it all, if it’s that important to her. I just want him back in one piece.

  “Where are you?” I ask.

  “In Nicholville. It’s a warehouse on Sampson street.”

  She gives me an address. I hastily copy it onto a piece of paper. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

  It isn’t until I hang up the phone that I realize that I should have asked to talk to Leo. It’s in all the movies. Always make sure the hostage is alive before you give in to any demands.

  I trust my mother about as far as I can throw a baby grand piano. Why would I believe anything she says now?

  Of course there’s no caller ID not the phone. I try dialing *69 but a robotic voice just says “unknown caller” before the line disconnects. There’s no way to get her back on the phone from my end.

  Even if it is a trap, I can’t just leave Leo to the mercy of the Apocalypse MC all on his own. Especially not when it’s really me that they want. And they must have him. How else would they have got the phone number for the cabin? I didn’t even know the phone existed until she called.

  So what do I do? Wait for Cecile to call me back and hope that they don’t kill Leo in the meantime? Or stay up here at the cabin by myself and wait for them to come looking for me?

  Something has happened to Leo. I know that like I know my own name. It’s just one of those innate pieces of information that you carry with you — like the certainty that you’re alive.

  Leo is out there somewhere and he needs my help.

  So it really isn’t a choice, is it?

  The keys to the old truck are hanging from a hook near the door. Leo had warned me that we couldn’t take it anywhere in case somebody recognized it, but that’s sort of moot point now.

  It’s freezing cold as I stomp outside in the snow. I have to unlock the truck with fingers that barely have any feeling left in them. Somehow, the truck’s cab is even colder than it is outside. Like all of the freezing air has been absorbed into the metal.

  The engine takes a few tries to turn over. I keep turning the key in the ignition with my heart in my throat. The truck tires slide on a patch of ice as I try to pull the truck out onto the road. A burst of adrenaline surges through me, leaving my heart pounding and pulse racing.

  Would it be ironic if the truck slipped on a patch of snow and sent me careening off the side of a mountain to my death or just sad?

  Getting to Leo before anything happens to him consumes my thoughts. It’s terrifying to think about something happening to him. I tried to rationalize is all away. I tried to tell myself that love is just a trick of brain chemistry. And just because I feel it, doesn’t mean that we’re meant to be together.

  But now I know the truth.

  I want to be with him. I want to see his face next to me on the pillow when I wake up the morning. And spend my time thinking of ways to make him happy. I need to be with him — forever.

  The truck slides down the snowy mountain and I ride the brake the entire way. I’m convinced that I’m going to die every time the wheels start to slip underneath me. But I somehow make it to the main road without dying.

  Nicholville is somehow even shittier than I imagined it would be, even in the dark. I drive past row after row of abandoned houses and vacant lots, overgrown with weeds and covered in trash. It feels like an appropriate place for a last stand. What’s one more dead body in a place that’s already full of decay?

  I would know if he were dead, I assure myself. Somehow I would feel it.

  Wouldn’t I?

  The address Cecile gave me is for a warehouse on the far side of town. I drive by it once, looking for some sign of movement. But it’s the same as all the empty gray structures that stretch along the narrow road.

  I park the truck a few streets away and get out to walk. Snow crunches underneath my feet as a deep chill sets in my bones.

  It isn’t hard to pick out which warehouse is the right one. The gathering of motorcycles out front is a dead giveaway.

  Swallowing hard past the terror, I take a deep breath and go inside.

  I’m not sure what to expect when I meet Ares for the first time, but I’m still surprised by the reality.

  There're half a dozen bikers gathered on the far side of the warehouse when I walk slowly cross the cement floor. But I know which one is the leader without having to be told.

  Ares stands a little ahead of the others. There’s a deadly sureness in his relaxed posture that says he climbed to the top on a pile of bodies.

  He’s attractive — ash blonde hair and shirtless muscles bulging under his leather vest — but the look in his eyes borders on the maniacal. It’s pure, murderous crazy. If I ever thought that Leo was a bad man, I know that this guy is much much worse. I have no doubt that being a defenseless woman won’t stop him from doing horrible things to me.

 
“Welcome back, girlie.”

  Girlie? I shiver in equal parts disgust and terror. “I’m here. Where’s Leo?”

  “Leo…Leo….I’m drawing a blank. You’re gonna have to be more specific. Who’s that again?”

  My heart drops to the bottom of my chest. The guy has already won, but he’s still fucking with me. “Is he dead?”

  Cecile stands slightly behind the line of bikers, her hands working together nervously. I look at her and feel almost nothing. It’s worse than a stranger, because I know exactly what sort of person she is. Mack stands next to her with hatred burning in his eyes. He’s still favoring the uninjured leg and I feel a small spurt of satisfaction.

  “Let’s just get this done,” Cecile says, her voice a little pleading.

  “I’m not doing anything until I see Leo.” I invest as much stubborn determination into my voice as I possibly can. Even if I’m actually terrified.

  Ares takes a step toward me. I take an involuntary step back. “I think there may have been a little bit of misunderstanding, baby girl. Leo isn’t here.”

  His smile is wide and terrible.

  It is a trap. The realization doesn’t even surprise me. I never should have trusted my fucking mother to tell me the truth. I should be worried about myself, stuck in this nest of vipers, but all I can think about is Leo.

  “Where is he?” There’s a tremble in my voice.

  “I sent some of my guys to pick him up.” Ares’s voice is full of consolation that I don’t buy for a second. “He got a little excited and things escalated. Sorry, babe. I guess you’re on your own.”

  “Is he dead?” I repeat the question, even though I think I already know the answer.

  Ares just smiles that awful smile.

  Leo is dead. The floor disappears underneath me and I’m falling through darkness. There won’t ever be light in my life again. Tears burn behind my eyes and I don’t fight them. What’s the point of being strong when I don’t have anything left to fight for?

  “Don’t you want to know how we found you?” His voice is teasing. Obviously rubbing salt in my wounds gets him off. “It’s a great story.”

  One of the bikers retreats to the back of the room. I hear the sound of something dragging on the floor and I realize it’s a person. He drops Willy at Ares’s feet.

  “Now, this is the guy,” Ares says with a baring of teeth that I’m sure he thinks is a smile. “He’s been the most helpful person I’ve met since we left Philly. Isn’t that right?”

  I wince in sympathy as Ares nudges the lawyer hard with the point of one steel-toed boot. Willy makes a high-pitched sound of pain. He’s been hogtied with his hands and feet secured behind his back. A piece of duct tape covers his mouth. His face is covered in bruises and dried blood.

  “You want to tell her about it?” Ares reaches down and rips away the tape. Bits of skin probably come off with it.

  “Mara…I’m so sorry. They threatened to kill my family…”

  Ares cuts him off with a swift kick to the stomach. Willy screams in pain.

  “Stop whining.” Ares bends down and grabs a handful of Willy’s hair, wrenching the man’s head back. “All I had to do was take a hammer to one of your fingers and you were singing like a little bitch canary. Telling me all about that cozy little cabin in the woods you helped that fucker build years back. That’s where he’ll go, you said. You even had a number for the land line.”

  He drops Willy’s head so it lands hard on the cement floor.

  “Stop it.” I feel numb, and cold. Tears still track down my cheeks but I don’t bother to wipe them away.

  “You want to take his place, darling?”

  “You promised not to hurt her,” Cecile tries to move forward but Mack grabs her arm, holding her back.

  Ares barely spares her a glance before turning the full weight of his terrible gaze on me. “That’s up to her. Isn’t it, sweetheart.”

  “What do you want?” I ask as if it matters. As if anything matters anymore. Leo is dead.

  “Give me the contract.” One of his underlings hands him a thin stack of papers. “Good old Willy drew this up for us, nice and legal. You sign all that money over to me and I don’t start cutting you up.”

  “Hold on,” Mack cries. “That wasn’t our deal!”

  “Our deal was for a simple snatch and grab,” Ares snarls, turning on him. “Now I got four dead guys and a couple of hundred miles of riding tracking this bitch down. You can be happy with what I give you or I can take you out right now.”

  Mack wisely doesn’t argue. But it’s obvious from the murderous look in his eyes that he’d kill Ares over this if he could. If only Mack wasn’t as terrified of the Apocalypse leader as the rest of us are — and a complete chickenshit.

  A momentary spurt of satisfaction runs through me at the look of impotent rage on Mack’s face. Serves you right, asshole.

  The satisfaction lasts until Ares turns back to me. “What’s it gonna be, girl? We doing this the easy way or the hard way?”

  Indecision freezes me. I don’t want to give any of them the satisfaction. But I know that I won’t be able to withstand whatever it is that Ares plans to do to me.

  “Just sign the papers, Mara honey,” Cecile pleads. I realize in her own twisted way she’s trying to protect me, even if it’s too little too late. What will she do if I say no? Will she rush in to protect me?

  Probably not. But part of still wants to believe that some small part of her still remembers how to be a mother.

  Leo would tell me to just give them what they want. He wouldn’t want me to get hurt over money.

  Except Leo is gone, so it doesn’t really matter what he’d want.

  “What’s the hard way?” I ask, voice full of false bravado.

  Ares’s eyes gleam. “Oh, I’m so glad you asked.”

  The group parts to reveal a metal table, rusted and dark red with blood. Fear courses through me, but I fight to keep my expression impassive. I won’t give him the fucking satisfaction, even as my heart pounds like a gavel in my chest.

  “This used to be a meat-packing plant. Convenient, right?” Ares’s tone is conversational, like he’s the cheerful tour guide through a house of horrors. “We started in on Willy to get that phone number, but he didn’t last long enough for it to get fun. You look like you might hold out a little bit longer.”

  His tone is almost flirting as he describes torturing me. It’s sick.

  Ares holds up a long length of chain with a dull clank. “Normally we use this for dragging, but it’ll work pretty well to hold you down. Then I like to start slowly, maybe with the fingernails — pull those off one by one. It won’t do any permanent damage, but it hurts like a son of a bitch.” He laughs, long and low. “Or so I’ve been told.”

  My lip curls in disgust. But I school my features to fight any other visible reaction to his words. I refuse to let him see just how scared I am. Let him have fun with his little mind games while I frantically try to think of a way out of this. One that doesn’t involve letting him have Papa’s entire estate.

  Because what’s gonna stop them killing me afterward, anyway?

  “Not many people last through that, but I’ve got faith in you.” He pulls a long knife out of its leather loop at his hip. It gleams dully in the low light. “Next we’ll get to work on that pretty face. That’ll probably get your attention. What do you think, boys? Maybe I’ll take this to the corners of that sexy little mouth of yours. Make it so you’re always smiling. Girls are so pretty when they smile.”

  I could run. I used to run track in high school. There’s a minuscule chance that I could make it to the door before they catch me. But then what? Where the hell am I going to go? I don’t have a place left in the world.

  Ares raises an eyebrow at my prolonged silence. He obviously expects me to be crying and begging for my life in the face of his threats. Breaking down just isn’t my style, even if the fear is very real.

  “This isn’t going to w
ork,” I say, fighting to keep my voice calm. “Even if I sign those papers, none of this will hold up in court.”

  Ares doesn’t appear worried. “That’s why you’re going to give us all the account numbers, too. We’ll keep you here for a bit until everything’s transferred. Nice and easy.”

  They’re going to kill me, I realize with distant awareness. Even if I give Ares everything that he’s asking for, I’m still a loose end that needs to be tied. If I called the police, the FBI would get involved. Murder, extortion, racketeering, blackmail…the list of crimes they’ve committed in the last twenty-four hours is a mile long. What’s the life of one girl when you’re facing several lifetimes worth of years in prison?

  A brief look of frustration passes over his face. “What’s it gonna be, bitch? You gonna play this smart or do I start taking body parts?”

  “Fuck you!”

  “Then hop up on the table, darling. Let’s have a little fun.”

  He starts to advance on me. Until a familiar voice cuts through the air.

  “You first, asshole.”

  Leo looks awful but alive. My heart soars for one glorious moment and my knees go so weak that they can barely support me. I’ve never believed that swooning is real, until this very moment.

  That’s before I realize just how much danger he’s in right now.

  And he’s hurt!

  Dark blood stains soak the front of his shirt. The hand holding his Glock racks with tremor. His other hand disappears into his suit jacket, obviously holding onto the source of his injury.

  He’s been shot, I realize with another surge of sick fear. And he’s one man against a dozen. There’s no way that he can take them all on at once, especially injured.

  It’s bad, too. I can tell from the white of his skin and the eyes that he squints in pain.

  I try to run to him. But ruthless arms grab me from behind and pull me back against a hard chest.

  “So, lover boy returns from the dead. It’s like a fairytale.” Ares’ voice is mocking and sure of itself. He knows he still has the upper hand. “Or maybe Romeo and Juliet. Don’t they both die at the end?”