Intoxication: Blue Line Book Three

by Brandy Ayers

  “How did you find us? This place is totally off the grid.” Jon had been so careful about everything. Never using the phone in the house, even though it was a burner. The county the cabin stood in didn’t have electronic property records yet, according to him, so the only way to see who the owner of the place was involved wading through filing cabinets in the basement of a government building in town. No utilities were needed, solar panels and a generator provided electricity, and water was pumped in from the well and filtered through a system in the utility closet. So how had they been tracked?

  “See, now this is where my skills are undervalued, by your brother, hell by everyone I’ve ever known. Because it is true, I couldn’t find the two of you, Chief Gallo did a fine job of covering your tracks. But what he didn’t do is make sure his men were using burners as well.” A proud smile stretched his face, but did nothing to make it any less terrifying. “All I had to do was track the calls made to his second in command. They usually kept those conversations short, so it took a few tries, but I got it a couple weeks ago. Once I found the end of the access road where he made the calls from, it was as easy as waiting in the woods until he left.”

  Camille could only nod, because it had been a smart plan, and she knew Jon would blame himself for the rest of his life if he discovered how they had been found.

  “You know, the other guys and I all had bets about who would find you first. Who’d get to do the honors of killing you.” Mac bent down to open the bag full of surprises at his feet, his eyes leaving Camille for the first time since walking into the kitchen. “Complese is going to hate handing over that fifty bucks.”

  Seeing her opportunity, Camille charged him, swinging the knife down in the direction of his neck, hoping to get a slice into his carotid artery or even his spine. Before the knife’s sharp edge even came close to the asshole, he rolled away, a gun in his hand, and that damn smirk still on his face.

  “Did you really think you’d get away with that? Put the knife down.” He waved the gun down, indicating she should put the gun on the floor.

  Unable to hold back the sob building up in her chest, she let the knife fall to the floor at her feet, and kicked it away.

  “You know, just for that I’ve decided to have a little extra fun with you.” Keeping the gun trained on her, Mac pulled the duffle bag toward him, pulling out handcuffs, another gun, and a small pouch. “I’ve been debating what to do about the cop. Your brother wants him dead too. I thought about just blowing the house up, but that calls too much attention. Now I’m thinking you can help me with this little problem. You know how to shoot a gun?”

  Two months ago her answer would have been a big no. But since coming to the cabin Jon had made it his mission to teach Camille how to protect herself, because at some point they would have to go home, and then he wouldn’t be around all the time. She had fought him at first, insisting the self-defense moves he was teaching her would be enough. But he insisted.

  “Yes, I know how to shoot a gun.”

  “Good. I figure we don’t have much time until your boyfriend gets back, so this will be easier with you knowing what you’re doing.” Mac stood to his full height, towering above her as he stalked closer and grabbed her neck in a punishing grip. Hot breath slid across her skin, making her sick to her stomach as he whispered into her ear. “This gun--” he held up the piece in front of her face-- “is going to be the one to put a bullet in your old man’s head. But it isn’t going to be me that pulls the trigger. That’s too easy.” He slid the tip of the gun down her cheek, along the slope from her chin to her neck, and continued a path down between her breasts. “No, you are going to be the one to do the honors. The second he walks in that door you, sweet Camille, are going to point the gut at his head and pull the trigger.”

  “Fuck you. I’m not doing a goddamn thing you say.” Just the idea of her shooting Jon sent a wave of disgust rippling through her stomach, threatening to push the contents out onto the floor. “I’d rather be raped and tortured then kill him. So just get on with it and stop with the histrionics you drama queen.”

  Camille grunted as the fist holding the gun pummeled her in the stomach in two quick punches. “Make no mistake, you will be raped and tortured, either way. But you do have one choice in how this all goes down. You can either kill the honorable Chief Gallo yourself, quickly and get it over with. Or we can stay holed up here for days, just the three of us, with the Chief tied up watching as I make his woman bleed to death right in front of him. I’ll make him watch as I fuck you raw. As I cut your flesh into tiny ribbons. And the last thing he’ll ever see on this earth is the life being drained from you bit by bit before I finally take mercy and kill you first, then him. So what will it be?”

  Knees giving out, Camille collapsed onto the floor, Mac letting her go to crumble in onto herself. She retched and sour liquid spewed from her mouth. Mac was a sick fuck in every sense on the word, and she had no doubt he would follow through with his plans. She couldn’t let Jon’s last experience on this earth be the picture her tormentor had painted. If they were both going to die anyway, maybe it should be her that did it. She could do it fast. Jon had been impressed with her accuracy during target practice, said she could hit the nuts off a squirrel from five hundred feet.

  Mac shuffled around the kitchen, doing god knows what and she laid on the floor next to her own vomit, sobbing into her hands. But now her despair was at least partially an act, because Jon was right, her aim was good. She also knew where on the body to hit to make it look real, but still miss everything vital. Her anatomy classes had been some of the easiest for her. Just memorize the location, function, and names of organs, bones, veins.

  Once she shot Jon, Mac would let his guard down. He’d gloat. It would give her another opportunity, and she’d be smarter about it this time. She could do this, for Jon. She could shoot him.

  “Made your choice yet, little girl?” Mac grabbed her hair and pulled her to her feet, dragging her over to stand in such a way that she would be the first thing anyone coming through the front door would see.

  “I’ll do it.” She took a deep breath. “I’ll kill him. I don’t want him to see what you’re going to do to me.”

  “That’s what I thought. I’m honestly a little disappointed this is the way things are going to happen. I think I would have enjoyed making him watch. I’ve never been one for voyeurism before, but in this case, I think I would have liked it.” Mac pulled the second gun from the back of his waistband and pointed it at her, backing away from her so Jon wouldn’t be able to see him when he walked in. “But it will be fun fucking you later with the same gun you’ll use to kill the man you love. Maybe even while the metal is still hot.”

  Revulsion surged through her again. How did someone become this fucked up that they found the pain and torture of another person amusing and exciting? She would never understand it, and didn’t care to try. The only thing she could concentrate on was the shot she was about to take, making sure her aim was true.

  As they stood and waited for Jon to arrive, Mac continued to torment her, telling her what he would do to her, how he would leave Jon’s body right where it fell and take her for the first time while she looked at his dead body. After a while she tuned out his mad ramblings, though at one point she became aware of his hand, not gripping the gun, rubbing his crotch.

  The deep rumbling of Jon’s truck and the crunch of gravel announced his arrival. Mac fell silent, but Camille could practically feel the excitement radiating off him. He bounced on the balls of his feet, like a kid on Christmas morning waiting to be let loose so he could rip into his presents.

  Mac forced the gun into her hand. “Don’t get any ideas. You try to pull something and it will just make everything worse. Don’t forget I know a lot of men with the same desires I have, and they’d love to be a part of this.”

  The truck door slammed shut, and Camille’s heart thudded in her chest. She tried to focus, to slow her breathing and heart rate. S
he held the gun firm in her right hand, the left curled under to help hold it steady. As much as she tried to compose herself, she couldn’t stop the tears tracking down her face. If she missed, even by an inch, she would kill the only man she had ever loved.

  The front door swung open, and Jon stood there, a look of determination shifting to one of shock. Mac whispered behind her to do it now, but she ignored him.

  “I’m so sorry, Jon. I love you.” She squeezed the trigger, not yanking it back, just like Jon had taught her. The loud bang of the gun going off echoed through the room, and Jon flew back, his body coming to rest half in the house, half on the porch.

  Panic seized her as blood bubbled up from the wound in his shoulder and poured down onto the wooden floor. Mac’s raucous laughter bubbled up from behind her, and he surged forward hovering above Jon’s still body. Too still. A scream in the distance startled her, until she realized the anguished sound came from her own mouth.

  Mac turned to her, a wide smile on his face. She pulled the trigger again, but it just clicked. No more bullets.

  “Have you learned nothing yet? I’m not an idiot, Camille. I only gave you enough bullets to shoot your dear Jon.” The smile widened as she frantically pulled the trigger, sobbing at each empty click of the gun. “I’m going to have so much fun with you.”

  Camille jumped as another gunshot rang out. Had he shot her? She looked down, but didn’t see any blood on her body. A gurgling sound pulled her attention back to Mac. Blood poured from his chest, a shocked expression frozen on his face.

  “You’re not that smart, asshole. You should have checked the supposedly dead guy on the floor.” Jon struggled to sit up as Mac’s body sank to the floor between them. “Good shot, sweetheart.”

  Camille scrambled to him, stepping over the now still and dead Mac on the floor. “I’m so sorry Jon. I had to. He was going to make you watch. I had to, I’m so sorry.”

  “Shhhh. You did good, my sweet girl. You did amazing. You saved us.” Jon wrapped his good arm around Camille, and held her close to his chest, kissing the top of her head. “Fuck. I forgot how much being shot hurts.”

  “Crap, we need to get pressure on that wound.” Running to the kitchen, Camille grabbed every towel she could find and raced back to Jon, now standing on his own two feet and leaning against the wall, looking down at Mac. She pressed the towels to his shoulder, stemming the flow of blood. Inspecting the wound, she had to admit the shot had been really good. Totally through and through, no bones seemed to have been hit, and she missed everything vital. “I think you’ll be okay.”

  “I’ve got you, I’m perfect.” Jon took his eyes away from Mac, and began inspecting her in the same way she had him. “Are you okay? Did he touch you?”

  “No. He liked to talk first. Was the same way when they worked me over the first time. Had to tell me everything he was going to do before he did it, but he didn’t get around to any of it yet.”

  Jon tilted her face so he could see her cheek better.

  “Okay, he slapped me once because I was mouthing off, but nothing serious.” The angle of her face had her looking at the ground, where a black box rested on its side by their feet. “Jon, what’s that?”

  Jon followed her line of vision to see the box as well. “Shit. This is not how I wanted this to happen.”

  Camille bent to pick up the package, stunned into silence for once.

  “I love you sweetheart. Open it.”

  She did as he asked, and the most beautiful ring she’d ever seen rested on a velvet pillow. “I shot you.”

  “Yup. And I’m hoping you won’t do it again when I ask you to marry me.”

  They both laughed, but Camille’s quickly turned into sobs. “Yes. I’ll marry you. And you better not have bought any more condoms.”

  Epilogue

  Three Weeks Later

  Camille

  The briefing room in the Middleburg Police Station wasn’t the most homey of places, and truth be known, Camille would rather be just about anyplace else. The station didn’t hold a ton of warm and fuzzy memories for her. The first time she had been there being when Bryan arrested her, and the second time was after she had escaped from the warehouse and collapsed in the lobby.

  But she had asked Jon if she could come to hear the update on Rich and his whereabouts, so she sat silently in the back of the room, Jon’s warm hand engulfing hers, and waited for Luke to get the guys settled. Cami glanced over at the man sitting next to her, his arm now free of the sling he’d been forced to wear while his shoulder healed. No matter how many times she saw it, the vision of him in his crisp blue uniform always got her going. He’d explained to her once that not all police chiefs wore the uniform, some wore suits, but Jon liked to think his wearing the uniform brought him closer to his men, made him one of them, instead of standing apart. Whatever the reason, Camille loved watching him get dressed each morning, and loved taking it off of him, piece by piece, each night.

  Trying to ignore her soaked panties at just having him near her, Camille turned back to the front of the room where Luke finally began speaking.

  “Good morning everyone.” He glanced down at the podium, seeming to gather his thoughts before looking back at the crowded room. “We’ve all been putting in a lot of hours on this case and trying to catch Rich Artiga. I’m proud of the work we’ve done, and the low level dealers we’ve managed to get off the streets. But we need to cut this drug ring down at the head. Once Rich is gone, the rest will crumble. And now, thanks to the work of not only Detective Formosa, but also Officer Reilly and Officer Coy, we have information that might finally lead us to his door.”

  Luke stepped back and Detective Formosa took over his position at the podium. No matter how many times they interacted, Camille could never think of the woman as Ana. Her take no prisoners personality almost demanded you address her with respect, no matter how many times the woman insisted you call her by her first name.

  “After the attempt on Ms. Artiga and Chief Gallo, we were able to trace evidence left in the vehicle of Mac York back to a three-block neighborhood on the edge of town where we believe Richard Artiga is currently holed up.” The confidence radiating from Formosa impressed Camille. She wished she had been more like the detective the last few years; always in control and afraid of nothing. “Additionally, an informant has come forward with information that we are perhaps not the only people looking for Artiga, and there is a reason he has not fled the area as of yet.”

  The door to the briefing room opened and an officer that Camille was only slightly familiar with walked in, with a rather pissed off expression on his face. “Who is that again?”

  Jon leaned closer to her, whispering in her ear so no one else would hear. “Officer Reilly. Good kid, a little overly ambitious. But a good cop all the same.”

  Reilly stood along the wall and Camille noticed that as Formosa continued to talk about the case, the rookie cop couldn’t stop staring at her. Not just looking like everyone else in the room, but practically mauling her with his eyes. Heat glowed behind his eerily green irises as he took her in, and not just with the obvious anger, but lust as well. Formosa did her best to ignore him, but it was obvious, at least to Camille, that the detective was all too aware of the new addition to the audience.

  “You see it too, right?” Sophie leaned over from the row of chairs behind them to whisper conspiratorially in Cami’s ear. “The heat between those two?”

  “Absolutely. Any idea what’s going on there?” Cami and Sophie had become great friends over the last few weeks, and they were constantly trading station gossip back and forth.

  “No idea. I’ve tried to invite Ana out for drinks and she always refuses. She’s a tough nut to crack.”

  If Ana Formosa had managed to resist the sweet and charming Sophie, then that was an understatement.

  “We will be taking volunteers for a stake-out task force to surveil the neighborhood, and the buildings most likely to be a good hiding place for Art
iga and his men.” Several officers raised their hands, including Reilly against the wall. “Please see me and Luke after the briefing to coordinate schedules. This is the best lead we’ve had to date, and we need to take advantage of it while we can.”

  After a few more assignments from Luke, the meeting ended and the officers dispersed to prepare for their nights.

  “You ready to go home?” Jon took Cami’s hand, kissing the back of it which sent a storm of butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

  “Hmmm, yes.” Camille brought her lips to the edge of Jon’s ear to ensure no one nearby would hear them. “And when we get home I want you to rip the clothes off me, bend me over the kitchen table, and fuck me while you’re still wearing your uniform.”

  Jon groaned low in his chest. “We need to get out of here. These pants do nothing to hide the rock hard erection you just gave me.”

  Camille giggled as they headed to the door, but before they could make their escape, Sophie blocked their exit to talk about her upcoming nuptials. Originally, she and Luke had wanted to wait until after the baby came, but it turned out that Luke couldn’t wait that long to make it official, so their wedding had been moved up to just a few weeks from then.

  “Cami, Lex, and I are planning a spa day in two weeks to prep for the wedding. So don’t plan anything for two weeks from today, got it?” Cami mocked saluted her new best friend, and beamed with happiness. She’d never had a girls spa day before. And she looked forward to getting to know Lexis a little more as well.

  A burst of activity across the room drew all their attention.

  “Damn it, Ana, you do not need to be out there. Leave it to us and take a step back for once in your life.” Reilly was trying to keep his voice down unsuccessfully, and Ana’s face was red and scowling at the rookie, her hands balled into fists at her sides.