Love was a strong word, but she’d meant it, just as she knew he did. The trust she had in him was greater than the trust she had in herself, and she didn’t want to be the reason for his demise.
The air was thick but cold, and it stuck to her skin. A hood was hung over her head before they went outside. Pulling her up the outer stone stairs Flick heard an idling engine and the crying women she had met previously, at least that’s who she assumed they were.
Someone lifted her off her feet, and she was shoved into a cold, hard, plastic pull down seat. Her feet were bound, and she was bent into the brace position to tie her ankle restraints to the cuffs.
‘The gang’s all here,’ John said.
Flick couldn’t see him she couldn’t see anyone. But the women were definitely here, and if the elbow that brushed hers was anything to go by they’d all been arranged in the same position.
‘No pushing, no shouting, and no crying.’ John listed the rules. ‘If you piss me off, I’ll shoot you and they’ll take your price from my cut. So I don’t wanna do that, but if I have to, I will. We’ve got a bit of a journey ahead, so I’d tell you to get comfortable, but I doubt that’s really possible. No talking and no crying.’
Having said the latter twice must mean that was the most important rule, or at least most important to John. With a few clicks and mumbles, the van started to move.
Flick figured that in this position she could probably get her hood off. But that might just piss John off, and wouldn’t really serve a purpose. She knew where they were right now, and she wouldn’t have a window to look out of, so she couldn’t see where they were going to follow their progress.
Her thoughts went back to Rushe, still in that room, on the bed they’d made love on. She knew he’d be driving himself crazy with the possibilities. Flick chose to turn that particular function in her own brain off.
The thugs it seemed could make all the noise they wanted to, and they ignored the sniffles initially. A couple of times John snapped at the women who cried, but Flick tried to block it out. She thought about Rushe, about the things they’d done together. Despite everything, Flick felt lucky to have met him, to be a part of his world, though for too brief a time.
If it hadn’t been for the dangerous predicament they were in, Flick doubted he would have declared his feelings so spontaneously, or voluntarily. But he had, and he’d vowed to come for her, to liberate her. Then what?
Flick realised that the only way she could get through this was by thinking about her future with Rushe. He had said that there were things she needed to know, and she’d listen to every word he said. Once he explained what this was about, or rather how he got involved in it in the first place, Flick was sure they could move forward.
Dreaming of a future with Rushe distracted Flick from the scuffles and the whimpers. It helped her to block out what she was about to face. Not knowing the details drove her insane, but speculation only came back to the worst-case scenario time and time again, so Flick thought of Rushe.
A man so powerful, and so enduring as Rushe struck her with awe. He’d picked little her to get into a bother about, and no one had ever seen her like that. Rushe would walk through fire for her, and he wouldn’t give one thought to any pain he might have to tolerate in the process.
One of the girls was crying again, and John shouted back, but there was a scrambling, like someone was climbing around.
‘Where you going?’ John asked, and the scuffling paused.
‘I’m gonna have me some fun,’ Skeeve said, and Flick didn’t like how close his voice was.
‘You’re gonna fuck her in the back of the van?’
‘She deserves it.’
‘Whatever.’
John’s one word was her last line of defence. Here, now, Flick had no way to defend herself and she knew, she just knew, he would come for her.
‘Hear that little girl?’ Skeeve taunted.
Her hood was grabbed and Flick was yanked upward, but he didn’t pull her hood off, he took a handful of her hair with it.
‘Go to hell.’
‘Where’s your boyfriend now?’
Thrown from her seat, Flick ended up on the hard metal floor on her face. But with her hands still tied to the ankle binding, her rear stuck up and out. Skeeve’s hands fumbled around with her tee-shirt, and though Flick tried to get away, she was wedged in the aisle between the rows of bound women lining the back walls of the van, and so had nowhere to go.
‘Bet you’re still wet,’ Skeeve said, pushing her tee-shirt up to her waist. ‘Nice of that superior sonofabitch to warm you up for me.’
More women cried, the grate of his zip had Flick trying to climb forward, but there was nowhere to go, she was trapped. Skeeve was going to rape her, and there wasn’t a thing she could do to stop him. So with the hood still over her face, she pressed her cheek to the floor.
‘You’re too chicken shit to tell him,’ Flick said. ‘You’re so scared of him, you wouldn’t dare challenge him. Remember in that shack; remember when you were crying and cowering from him; begging him for your life?’
‘You fucking bitch!’
Skeeve’s sticky hand landed on her backside, but wheels screeched, and with a thumping jolt the van suddenly skidded, sending her and all the occupants bouncing off each other like silver bearings in a pinball machine. More crying, more shouting, the noise level grew until the scrape of metal on concrete was almost drowned out. The van skidded further and with a thud, rolled once, and then again.
Hot, wet, panting sounded in the air when they drew to a stop. No one said anything, no one moved, and Flick wasn’t sure what had happened. They were off the road, and the ticking of the engine, and rumbling of tires suspended in mid-air, bit into the atmosphere.
Flick tried to move, but something was on top of her. Shoving it aside, with her hands and feet still bound, she tried to sit. Groaning and whimpering increased, then Flick smelled burning.
‘Out,’ Flick said, before she had thought to speak. ‘Everyone get out now!’
Much as she wanted to be liberated from the clutches of the gang, that wasn’t actually her first thought. The smell of smoke assaulted her, and where there was smoke there was fire. Rushe would never forgive her if she died less than an hour after leaving him.
But progress would be slow while she was bound, and Flick didn’t know what direction to move in. So flailing some to shake the hood from her head, she almost wished she could put it back on again straight away.
She was on the roof, bodies lay all around her, but in this darkness it was the smell of blood that drowned her reality. Pitching forward Flick tried to get toward the back doors. Three of the women were moving, but at least two other were definitely dead. Skeeve lay at the edge of the space unmoving, she had no idea of his injuries, and she didn’t care.
‘What do we do?’ Brianna asked, and Flick was startled to see her with her hands free of her feet. But the gash on Brianna’s leg, that must have granted her liberation, concerned Flick.
‘We get out of here,’ Flick said.
Brianna crawled over the unconscious bodies to untie Flick’s bounds. ‘Good. Let’s go.’
Flick couldn’t have put it better herself. When the women began to crawl to the back of the van, the doors were suddenly ripped open from the outside.
‘Nobody move!’
The masked man was broad, and the gun in his hand was pointed at the van occupants. Whoever he was, he meant business.
‘What’s going on?’ Brianna asked, and brought up her hands in surrender.
Flick followed the move, and two other women sat up as well. ‘How many of you are there?’ the masked man asked.
‘Seven women,’ Flick said. ‘Two dead, I think. I don’t know about the men.’
‘Dead?’
‘Yes,’ Flick said. ‘From the impact... did you see it?’ Flick thought that this was a safer question than “Why did you run us off the road?”
‘Hit harder than
I meant to,’ he said.
‘It happens,’ Flick muttered.
‘You’re Felicity.’
Flick’s posture righted quickly. ‘How do you know that?’
‘They got to you too... Rushe dead?’
‘No, they locked him up,’ Flick said, unsure whether to be concerned or grateful that this person knew who she was. ‘Who are you?’
The masked man didn’t answer, but with more groaning from around about, Flick knew that they were going to have more questions, and possibly more bodies, very quickly. Lowering the gun slightly, he took the mask from under his chin, and pulled it off.
From the shadow of night, Flick took a moment to register his features. But when she did, a grin burst out across her face, and to get to him she climbed over everyone in her way, despite Brianna’s exclamation at Flick that she shouldn’t.
Flick might never have met this man before, but when she clambered out, she flung her arms around him.
‘Rushe told me you could be slow to warm up.’
Flick had never been happier to see anyone in her life. More questions fired through her, but this was a friend, an ally. This was the man Rushe had met in the diner while she watched from the safety of the car.
‘He meant for me to see you,’ Flick said, letting the man go, but not moving from his side.
‘Yes.’
‘I should’ve known.’
‘It’s important to know who you can trust.’
‘Why you sonofabitch,’ a male voice croaked.
The stranger automatically brought his arm out to push Flick behind his body, getting himself between her and danger, just as Rushe did.
Flick peeked around the protective arm to see that the carnage from this standpoint was awful. But the voice had come from John who sat on the roof – which was now the floor – at the front of the van flanked by two dead men she didn’t know.
‘John,’ the stranger said in cool acknowledgement.
‘Jansen.’
Pieces began to slide into slots that had been empty from the beginning. Rushe and Jansen were working together. Jansen had hit the van, he’d run them off the road. Jansen had worked with Victor until he intercepted the first shipment, and now he’d intercepted the second as well. Obviously, it was their mission to ensure that these women never got to where they were going. But Rushe hadn’t given Flick any indication in their captivity that she would be freed en-route.
‘We’ve been looking for you,’ John said.
‘I know,’ Jansen said.
‘Victor’s gonna kill you for this.’
‘I imagine he wants to kill me, but it won’t be for this.’
‘Oh yeah, why—’
The sound of a clipped pulse startled Flick, at the same time she noticed a spot form in the centre of John’s forehead. He fell to the side, landing on top of the body next to him.
‘Because he’s never gonna know I was here,’ Jansen said to John’s corpse.
‘What is going on here?’ Flick asked. ‘Who are you?’
‘Jansen,’ he said to her, then dropped the gun to his side. ‘Women out.’
‘What are you going to do with them?’ Flick said. ‘Are you here to save us? Are you going to kill us? Or sell us? Or—‘
‘Rushe never told me you talked this much,’ Jansen said, helping the women out of the van.
When Skeeve and the two dead women were all that was left in the van, Jansen paused to examine the deceased, yet he seemed almost reluctant to. Hesitation wasn’t normal for men who could kill with impunity as he had done. Flick watched him, the slowness of his deliberate movements when he crouched, and reached out for one woman. He turned her over, and with an audible exhale, he tensed and took his attention to the other woman. But when he rolled her to her back he didn’t look at her for long.
Back on his feet, he marched to the living women and cut all of their binds.
‘What are you going to do with us?’ Brianna asked.
Jansen produced a stack of banknotes and shoved them to Brianna. ‘Get yourselves home.’
‘That’s it?’ Flick shouted when Jansen strode away.
‘That’s it.’
Flick ran after him, while Brianna took care of the women. The road was dark, and all but deserted. But with the bad guys all dead Flick knew that they’d be ok. All they had to do was get to a house, or a car, they could call the police, get to a hospital, do what they needed to.
But Flick struggled to keep up with Jansen as he disappeared into the night. If he got away from her, she knew that she’d never see him again, and she’d have no way to help Rushe.
‘We have to go back,’ Flick said. ‘We have to go back for Rushe.’
She heard his snort, and he kept on walking. ‘Good luck with that.’
‘No,’ she said. ‘You need to help me.’
Jansen spun around. ‘They’re gonna kill him. He’s probably already dead.’
‘No,’ she said. ‘They think he’s law enforcement, or something.’
Jansen smiled. ‘Rushe? I bet he loved that one. He’s been called a lot of things, but never anything quite that bad.’
‘If that’s not it then, what?’
‘He’s an outside contractor,’ Jansen said. ‘Private enforcement.’
‘You work together?’
‘Rushe works alone, he always has.’
‘You’ve known him a long time?’ she asked.
‘No... There’s a reason he hasn’t told you any of this,’ Jansen said. ‘Rushe doesn’t open up to anyone. There’s only one thing women are good for as far as he’s concerned. Sorry to let you down gently.’
Either this guy didn’t know how Rushe felt about her, or she was being played. ‘He told you to tell me that,’ Flick said. ‘If things worked out like this; if he was dead, or in trouble. You’re supposed to make me think that I’m embarrassing myself.’
Jansen scrutinised her, and gradually his chin came up. ‘You’re good.’
‘I learned from the best,’ she said. ‘And there isn’t a scenario he hasn’t planned for.’
‘Except this one,’ Jansen said. ‘He’s locked up in there for a reason. When Victor works out who Rushe is, one of two things happen, he uses him, or he kills him.’
‘Uses him for what?’
‘You better be glad they let you go before they uncovered his identity. Victor’s MO is to use women that men care about. If he wants something from you, then he’ll find your pressure point and push. You’re Rushe’s pressure point, and the only one he’s ever had, if the stories I’ve heard are anything to go by... you’re his weakness.’
‘I know.’
‘But Victor’s sold you on, or he thinks he has. With you out of the picture, he has no way to exploit Rushe, and so Rushe will refuse, and eventually... Rushe will die.’
Flick shook her head. ‘No, he’s coming for me.’
‘Yeah,’ Jansen said. ‘All the trying in the world can’t change the facts.’
‘You don’t try then you don’t succeed.’
‘The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, and expecting different results. Rushe isn’t getting out of there alive. Emotional torture is sort of Victor’s forte.’
‘You can’t expect me to walk away and leave him there.’
‘I’m doing you a favour,’ Jansen said.
The gun still hung loose in his hand, and while his form was formidable he didn’t have the fight Rushe did. He didn’t have that angry energy that made Flick feel that he was capable of anything. The only time Rushe had appeared this broken was when he knew there was nothing he could do to save her.
‘We can get him out,’ Flick said. ‘If you help me.’
‘Give it up,’ Jansen said. ‘You’ll only end up driving yourself insane.’
Jansen walked backward a couple of steps, then turned to continue his walk into the unlit night.
‘I need your help,’ she said. ‘You were working with him! You
have to help him!’
‘No, I’m done. I’m not going back there.’
Jansen kept walking, and Flick knew that when he was gone she would never be able to free Rushe on her own.
‘She’s alive,’ Flick called out, and more pieces slid into place when Jansen came to a slow stop. ‘That’s why you intercept the shipments of women. You’re looking for her.’
‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’
With another step away from her, Flick’s panic pumped her chest.
‘Serendipity. You’re here for Serendipity.’
When Jansen flipped around Flick recognised that determination, that brick wall of anger she saw in Rushe. ‘What did Rushe say to you?’
‘Nothing.’
‘He told you about Serendipity?’
‘No,’ Flick said, shaking her head, and Jansen came back to her.
The warm metal of the gun pressed into her arm when he grabbed hold of her. ‘Then how the fuck do you—‘
‘I saw her,’ Flick said. ‘She was separated from the other women.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
‘Are you willing to risk her life on that?’ Jansen hesitated. ‘She’s alive. She’s been there for six months.’
‘She’s alive?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why hasn’t she been in the shipments?’
‘Victor was going to kill her,’ Flick said, mindful of the flicker of hurt on his face. ‘He was going to kill her when you screwed him over.’
‘I screwed him over?’ Jansen snorted. ‘What version of history are you working from?’
‘I can only tell you what they told me. Victor wants to find you. He kept Serendipity alive because he wants an audience. He wants to make it painful and slow, and he wants you to see it.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Shiv told me,’ she said. ‘Are you going to leave her to that fate?’ Jansen seemed to be filtering her words, and he didn’t look at her, though he kept her in his grip. ‘Rushe wouldn’t leave me to that... maybe he loves me more than you love her.’
‘Dead does her no good,’ Jansen snapped. ‘Damn thing Rushe kept repeating. Dead does her no good. Dead does her no good!’
Jansen released Flick with an eruption that hurled her backward, and she almost lost her footing, but stumbled to catch her balance. Jansen walked, and she ran to catch up.
Explicit Instruction Page 27
