Devil's Pact

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Devil's Pact Page 4

by Brook Wilder


  “Olivia! What the hell are you doing? Are you crazy?” Preston shouted.

  But she didn’t answer him. She didn’t even turn around and look at him, just stood there, blocking the entire gang of bikers with her own body as she stared them down.

  Even more surprising, the three men stumbled to an unsure halt, still several yards away. They sent uneasy glances at Capone, but the president’s murderous glare never wavered.

  “Well?” Capone shouted, rage suffusing his face with crimson once more. “What the fuck are you waiting for? Grab them!”

  “Wait!” Olivia said.

  Her voice was raised so all could hear her, but it was calm and reasonable-sounding, in direct contrast to Capone’s mad screams and demands.

  “Wait, don’t you want to know the truth?”

  Preston grit his teeth, his mind racing to try and figure a way out of this. Olivia was doing a damn good job of stalling them. Some of the men even looked at her with more curiosity now, and no one was stalking towards them anymore. But they were still surrounded. He couldn’t make a run for it and leave Olivia where she was, standing directly in the middle of all of them. They would tear her to pieces, a lamb tied up and led to a pack of starving wolves.

  Not that Olivia is any lamb, he reminded himself, watching her out of the corner of his eye.

  He never looked away from her, not once, as she held her chin tilted high in the air and her shoulders pushed back as she faced them down without flinching or showing even a hint of fear. Preston wasn’t sure if he should be proud of her fearlessness or horrified at her stupidity.

  “Preston isn’t a liar!” Olivia was saying, her voice still raised and echoing out across the clearing in front of the trailer, with that edge of calm that seemed to captivate the others. “If you know him at all, you know that’s true.”

  There were a few uncomfortable shifts in the men but no one spoke up, so Olivia went on in what Preston was starting to recognize as her ‘lawyer’ voice.

  “I was the one who had discovered that Preston had a twin brother. I was the one who discovered that he was the true perpetrator of the murder, not Preston. I was the one who went to the police with that information.”

  Preston’s breath froze in his lungs. What was she doing? Why the fuck was she saying that? Didn’t she realized that that wouldn’t make any of the men look more kindly towards her?

  It wasn’t like Knox. These guys weren’t likely to forgive her for snitching, or him for that matter.

  Suddenly one of the biker’s stepped forward and Preston recognized him as Capone’s right-hand man, the same asshole he’d grounded just a few short weeks ago after his altercation with Thor. The big, blond haired man was nowhere to be seen.

  “She just admitted it out of her own mouth!” the man sneered, “Let’s get these sons of a bitches and make them pay once and for all!”

  There was a small cheer of agreement from most of the men. A few still looked uncomfortable, but Preston knew with a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that it wouldn’t make a difference now. They were dead, or as good as. They would be within a few more minutes, that was sure.

  “Grab the girl!” Capone ordered. Preston’s whole body tensed as two of the bikers leapt forward and grabbed a hold of Olivia, but she ignored them as if they weren’t even there.

  “Weren’t you listening? It was me! Let Preston go! He didn’t have anything to do with this,” Olivia said, still fighting, still trying to save him even though she was being held tightly by two rough looking men herself.

  “How sweet,” Capone mocked as he walked closer to them, but not close enough to get within reach.

  More’s the pity, Preston thought. He’d love to at least give the man a black eye and bloody lip before he killed them both.

  “She really cares about him.”

  There was a sick laugh that was echoed by several of the men, and Preston detested the way they eyed Olivia now that she was being held and helpless.

  “Maybe,” Arthur said with a purring note to his voice, his gaze on Olivia, “maybe if you behave, I’ll keep you alive after we get rid of Osbourne. Have a little after party. You would like that wouldn’t you? You would be good for that, wouldn’t you?”

  Preston surged forward in reaction, but not before Olivia tilted her head back and spit full in Capone’s scarlet flushed face.

  “I don’t behave for anyone,” she said defiantly.

  In that moment Preston both loved and hated her for it. She’d just signed her death warrant.

  “Especially not a small, petty bully like you.”

  Preston wanted to kiss her more than he ever had before, but he knew that she’d just made a terrible, terrible mistake. He could see the intent form on Capone’s manic face before the words even came out of his mouth. Arthur’s expression twisted into pure madness as shook with fury.

  “Kill her. Kill them both. Tie them up and throw them in the trailer. I’m going to burn them alive.”

  “No!”

  Preston leapt towards them again, trying desperately to get to Olivia’s side. But she was being pulled further and further away from him.

  The other men attacked him, surrounding him and blocking his view of Olivia as they pummeled him with their fists. He fell to his knees and they kicked him, there heavy steel-toed boots bruising his ribs.

  The last thing he heard before he fell into unconsciousness was Olivia’s terror-filled screams. He hated them. He hated the sound. And then it was gone and so was everything else.

  His whole world was nothing but darkness.

  Chapter 7

  Olivia watched as the men finally parted to reveal Preston’s limp body. She wanted to cry out, to scream again, to run to him. She couldn’t do anything. But finally she could breathe again, when she caught the slight movement of his chest up and down. At least he was still alive, for the moment. She remembered Capone’s orders, his command to tie them up and burn them. If she didn’t do anything, these would be her last moments. Well, she sure as hell wouldn’t go quietly, that was for damned sure.

  Olivia couldn’t take her shocked gaze off Preston as a group of men pulled his still unmoving body into the trailer home and Capone told one of them to tie him up in case he woke up before the fire was lit.

  She was so numb at first that she hardly even realized she was being pulled towards the trailer as well. But, suddenly, as if a spark shot through her, Olivia threw back her head and screamed.

  Capone and his men just watched, impassive to her cries and pleas. Some were even outright grinning at her terror, but it just spurred her anger on, stoking it even higher. God help those men if she ever got out of this mess, because she would personally ensure that they spent the rest of their damned lives in the worst prison in Texas.

  If I ever get out of here alive, the thought whispered insidiously through the back of her mind.

  But she didn’t give in to it, or to the terrible desperation that filled her.

  Olivia fought like a wild cat, kicked and screaming, scratching and clawing at anything and everything she could reach, until her captor finally threw her up and over his shoulder, hauling her like a sack of flour the rest of the way. She could hear the rough laughter of the men behind her, but Olivia ignored it. It wasn’t important. They weren’t important. The only thing that mattered was not letting them tie her up. If she was tied up, she was doomed.

  “Charlie, get them tied up fast. I want to get rid of them and get the hell out here.”

  There was a note of impatience in Capone’s voice as he shouted the order and she could tell that the some of the other bikers were getting restless. What he meant was that he wanted them dead before anyone could second guess him. Olivia nearly smiled. It seemed like her words hadn’t been for nothing after all.

  “Please! Let me go! Let Preston go! He didn’t do anything! He didn’t snitch on his brother. You have no right to do this! You don’t have any proof. What’s next, killing anyone you
say so just because you don’t like them? Just because of a whim? Who will be next?”

  Olivia shouted the words in a last-ditch effort as the burly man carrying her ducked and tossed her inside the trailer.

  “Tie her up too,” the gruff looking biker said. “And get her a fucking gag before Capone loses his shit and decides to make an example of someone else.”

  “It doesn’t matter, you know,” Olivia said, forcing the words out through trembling lips. “Now that he knows he can get away with it, there’s nothing to stop him. Who’ll be next, do you think? You?”

  “Gag her,” he said again.

  But Olivia could see a thoughtfulness in his mean gaze that she hadn’t a moment ago. Progress. But not quick enough, damn it!

  The man Capone had ordered to tie up Preston – Charles, she remembered he’d called the biker – moved towards her next. She skittered away, but he was in between her and the door and there was no other way out. Maybe she could attack him? But she dismissed the thought almost as soon as it occurred. He was at least twice her size and three times her weight. There was no way she could overpower him.

  But she couldn’t give up. Not now. She couldn’t’ let them do this to her, to Preston. Where was the justice? He hadn’t even been the one to commit the murder, but he’d been sentenced to death anyway. And she was on death row right along with him.

  Charlie leaned forward, reaching for Olivia, and she lashed out with one foot, catching him hard in the middle. He let out a soft oof on impact, but he it didn’t stop him from grabbing her ankle and pulling her closer to him. She fought as hard as she could, but he might as well have been wrestling a kitten for all the effect it had on him.

  She let out a strangled scream, squeezing her eyes shut, waiting for the moment to come, waiting for his body to press unwantedly over hers, for her clothing to rip, for the pain. But nothing happened.

  Olivia was shaking uncontrollably, but when she forced her eyes she saw that he was bent close over her. But it wasn’t to hurt her. He was wrapping a scratchy rope around her wrists.

  Olivia pulled her arms away. He grabbed them, holding them in place while he made an irritated sound in the back of his throat.

  “Will you stop fighting me for a god damned minute? I’m a friend of Preston’s,” he hissed under his breath.

  “Like I’m going to believe that,” Olivia answer with a derisive snort. “You must think I’m an idiot.”

  “After what you pulled out there with Capone? Yeah, you’re an idiot. A very lucky idiot.”

  “Lucky?! Do you see where I am right now! I’m about to be burned to death for Christ’s sake.”

  “Well, you’re certainly not acting like a murder victim.”

  “Well, excuse me if I don’t just roll over and offer my throat for you to slit,” Olivia snorted again.

  This conversation was absolutely ridiculous. And it was over.

  “Why are you trying to trick me? I’m going to be dead in two minutes anyway.”

  She hoped it would be over fast, at least.

  “I’m not trying to trick you, damn it,” Charlie said quickly under his voice.

  His long, lanky blond hair fell over his forehead as he shot a surreptitious look outside and Olivia took advantage of the moment to swing both her fists out and landed a punch hard on his jaw.

  She winced, her knuckles throbbing as he stumbled back, rubbing the lower half of his face and shooting a glare at her. Three men were already closing in on them, all holding large canisters and Olivia gasped in fear when she realized it was gasoline.

  Charlie was still glaring at her when he resumed his kneeling position, pretending to tie her hands, but the restraints were easily loose enough to get out of.

  “I told you. I’m a friend of Preston’s. Capone doesn’t realize it. It’s the only reason he let me come with them, after I heard about him rounding up his little posse.”

  He shot another glance at the open door, careful to keep one eye on her this time.

  “You’re aren’t going to have much leeway to get out of here before the whole thing goes up. But trailers aren’t as flammable as people think. You’ll have fifteen, maybe twenty minutes tops after they light the gasoline on fire to get the hell out of here.”

  “What about Preston?” Olivia asked.

  She still wasn’t sure if she could believe Charlie or not, but at the moment she didn’t have many other options. Or any other options at all, come to think of it.

  “Wake him up. Drag him out if you have to.”

  “How?” Olivia cast a wide-eyed look at the front door and the shadows of men she could still see surrounding it. She’d never make it out that way.

  “Look, all trailer homes are basically the same. There should be an emergency exit hatch in a closet or beneath a bench in the back. Damn it, I don’t have time…”

  He bit off the words angrily as one of the bikers yelled for him to hurry the fuck up.

  “Where… where can we go? What can we…”

  Olivia trailed off. She couldn’t even form the thought out loud. Any possibility of survival still seemed so far out of reach. But there was a glint of a silver lining and she wanted to jump up and grab it with both hands.

  “Capone doesn’t know where you live. He didn’t even know who you were before today,” Charlie whispered hastily as he finished ‘tying’ the knot and started to back away. “You should be safe there for a few days. Just go back to your house and wait for my word, okay? I’ll make contact as soon as it’s safe.”

  He took another step back, but Olivia stopped him.

  “Thank you,” she said fiercely. “I don’t know why you’re helping me but thank you.”

  “I’m not helping you. I’m helping him.” He nodded at where Preston was still hunched over, unconscious. “Just do me a favor and save his ass, okay?”

  Olivia nodded solemnly.

  “I swear.”

  “Come on! I want to see some fireworks!” a rough voice yelled from outside, followed by another gleeful, “Yeah, it’s time for a barbeque!”

  Charlie was pulled from the trailer before he could say anything else and the door was shut and barricaded by something heavy. There was no way of getting out through the front. They were trapped.

  Chapter 8

  Olivia could hear the bikers just outside the trailer. She could hear their voices, though their actual words were muffled. She was grateful for that. She didn’t want to hear them talking about how they were about to end her life.

  Next came the sound of sloshing liquid. It was an odd sound, until she realized it was the gasoline from those canisters they had been carrying. They were dousing the entire trailer and the bitter, oil-slick taste of it filled the air, curling under her tongue.

  But what she heard next sent chills down her body. They were laughing. Those men, those monsters, were actually laughing. As if there really were at a BBQ instead of about to murder two people in the most horrific way imaginable!

  Rage such as Olivia had never felt before rose up inside her. She stoked the anger, just as the gang stoked the fire outside, and she used that anger. She used it to make herself move instead of just sitting there on the floor of the burning trailer like a rabbit waiting for the cook pot.

  Olivia tore at the ropes that the man, Charlie, had only wrapped loosely around her wrists. He had to give the appearance that they were restrained but, in reality, they came away easily under her touch.

  Her mind caught against that. Charlie, her unlikely ally. Could she believe him? Could she trust him? But, in that moment, her gut was telling her that he was her only choice. And, even more surprisingly, she did trust him.

  Charlie had told her that she had fifteen to twenty minutes max to get Preston awake enough to move and then get the hell out of there. Well, she had no intention of spending the next twenty minutes of her life inside that burning tin can. She was leaving. But she had to wake Preston up first.

  She looked over to where he wa
s still slumped over, unconscious, as she untangled the last of the rope and threw it away. She had to get Preston and get them the hell out of there as fast as she could.

  The sound of the flames hit her first, surprisingly loud as they roared like a monster trying to get inside. She could see their flickering orange and yellow arms climbing outside the window, searching for any crack or weakness.

  Olivia started to sweat. She wasn’t sure if it was from the fear that gripped her like a fist or the heat of the fire finally starting to make itself known, but she couldn’t stop the drops of perspiration from stinging her eyes.

 

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