The man lay whimpering where he landed. He clutched at his arm, eyes wide, and looked past Aaron.
“Psycho. Hmm, why didn’t I think of that one? I like Psycho. But it is fitting.”
Aaron didn’t respond, just stood his ground, his attention now on Damien Essex.
The man sauntered from the rooftop access door. Square chin lifted, shoulders back, chest expanded in a puffed-up showing of superiority, at last the orchestrator of this invasion made his entrance onto the scene. Caught up in all the preparation, the training and planning, Aaron hadn’t taken into consideration what seeing his old adversary face-to-face again might do to his own psyche. Bitterness rose in his throat and his jaw clenched tight. A hollow, unclean tension washed through him. Before it could get a grip, he let it go. It was just a reaction to an unpleasant memory. Nothing that would serve him now.
The intimidating figure of Essex continued his arrogant swagger, at last coming to a stop, hands resting on hips. Head cocked, he provided Aaron a lengthy once-over.
“Figured maybe somebody’d offed you a long time ago.” Essex winked. “But kudos to you for being able to stay hidden and off my radar all this time.” The large man sneered the mock compliment. “And alive.”
Aaron shrugged offhandedly. He needed to reload. There was likely a gun or three trained on him.
Almost in answer, Essex spoke. “These boys won’t shoot you. I told them not to. And they know the consequences for disobeying me.” Essex grinned wide. His eyes shifted to the victim of Aaron’s defensive move, and he addressed the wounded guerilla. “Haul your ass to the sidelines, Smith. You’re a spectator now.”
The man scrambled to unsteady feet and slunk over to settle against the second-story wall, cradling his shattered arm.
Essex dismissed him and refocused on Aaron. “Too bad for you, your little protection detail ended up in the middle of something I was after on that ship. Might have missed you again. And then poor ol’ Shane? Really thought you might’ve bought it too when I heard. But I knew better than to take that at face value. You were always so good at squeaking out of those impossible situations. And I cannot express just how very pleased I am that they didn’t kill you on that errand. I’ve looked forward to this opportunity for so long it would’ve been a tragedy if they had.” He shook his head and spoke as if scolding a child. “And then you come up with a girlfriend? My hunch played correct. Shame, shame on you, Psycho. Didn’t our handlers teach you anything? Don’t you know? That’s the ultimate distraction. That’ll make you let your guard down every time.”
Aaron kept silent. Man sure is a talker. But one question did tug at his mind; just where had the rest of the truckload with Essex disappeared to? No shots from Les’s new position yet. Hopefully Alex and Andy were back with Mikey now, where he’d sent them, safe from this, away from the vicious menace that was Damien Essex. But where were those missing henchmen?
For Aaron’s part, he’d just as soon shoot Essex in the head and be done with it, but empty pistols and ammo in pockets were not conducive to a quick draw. Essex wouldn’t shoot him and wouldn’t let anyone else. The man desired more than anything to beat him to death with his bare hands. That was his style. And he would take his time. But that was Essex’s intention. Aaron Donovan had other plans.
“Andy… Andy! Gamer!” Les shook the man, and Andy groaned as consciousness returned.
A basic assessment showed no lasting damage, just a nasty bump. Blinking, Andy looked around and sat up, Les supporting him. He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck and winced.
“Ow.” He locked eyes on Les. “Alex…?”
Les shook his head. “They got her.” He helped Andy to his feet. “I’ll get her. Get back with the Brain and finish prepping.”
Reluctant to abandon any search to retrieve Alex, Andy began to argue, but Les silenced his protest. Andy took off once again for the main building.
Expending precious time, Les managed a quick covert operation to take care of three of the six from Essex’s truck. The remaining were headed for the roof. He moved off to collect his rifle and get into position.
A small thump from below. Smoke snaked up the side of the building near a corner, ebony wisps curling over eaves and dancing in shifting winds as they disappeared skyward. Essex glanced that way but continued his monologue, undistracted. The crackle of his radio brought him to pause.
“Excuse me just a second,” he said, mocking sincere apology as he keyed the walkie to listen. His eyes bulged. “Superb! The more, the merrier! Come on up!” He smiled over at Aaron like the Cheshire cat and actually remained… silent.
This can’t be good…
Two armed mercenaries escorted Alex onto the roof, ushering her out just past the access door to where the second-story section of the building rose up. One stayed with her, the other moving over to stand with a third, who arrived carrying a rocket launcher. She glared daggers at her captors as though she could burn them down with her thoughts.
They never made it to the main building…
No matter how well thought out or controlled a situation, there always existed the chaotic element, a surprise twist, an unanticipated move by the opponent. The exploded car that altered the original retreat route. The extra time to maneuver a different path. The resultant opposing leverage that now upped the stakes. Also, why it was never a good idea to become too attached…
Aaron couldn’t hide the grief that ravaged him.
The man guarding Alex leaned in close to her ear, his whispered utterance disgusting based on the look she gave him. If tearing her chaperone to shreds were an option, she’d have done it.
Essex smiled. “Thought you might appreciate that.”
The calm that Aaron had maintained up to this point melted into controlled, chaotic rage that he barely contained. A cold vise twisted his insides. He’d known the risk to Alex, having her involved in this operation, but seeing her held captive and being unable to help her tore at his soul. Though near impossible, he had to remain detached—he couldn’t let her dilemma consume him. If he didn’t keep his own ire in check, he could lose any advantage he might find. He had to keep it together. And also find a way to get her off this damn roof! Aaron met Essex’s stare head-on, though that was exactly what the man wanted. Maybe Aaron would give him a whole lot more than he wanted.
Essex performed a deep bow. The big man loosened his gun belt and tossed most of his weapons to the roof deck.
“That’s what I want to see.” Essex gloated, his words echoing Aaron’s assumptions. “That’s more like it. You know, I could’ve turned you in, but I rather want you all to myself.”
That remark was sure a strange one. Turned me in? To whom? Aaron tried to let go the unease those words brought him. Likely Essex was just spewing attempted confusion, trying to throw Aaron off his game before their battle even got started. But still. He pushed down any seeds of worry for later. More immediate things concerned him at present.
Essex resumed his talk, now making sure Alex could hear, describing his intentions for Aaron in agonizing detail. Aaron had forgotten about this side of the man’s grotesque talents. He kept his eyes on Essex’s movements, on occasion glancing over to Alex. The grisly words were, without a doubt, having their intended effect.
“Now to decide.” Essex crossed his arms and tapped his chin with a finger. “Just what shall I do to you?”
Nightmarish visions. What horrors those words conjured in her mind! Just shut up! The awful descriptions of wounding and torture pervading her ears spoke to insanity. What kind of fiendish mindset could come up with that? Though just an attempt to mess with their heads, it was the worst audible torment Alex had ever experienced. She fought to ignore what Essex was saying. Her brain took a run of its own however, still cycling through an imagined sequence of events of what Essex wished would transpire.
The thug next to her chortled. “This’ll be great! Front-row seats.” His harsh voice dripped with an evil excitement, in part
to bring her additional distress but also because of his legitimate pleasure in seeing his boss in bloodthirsty action. “Been saving up for this. Man’s gonna feel some real pain before he dies.”
Alex threw him a sidelong glare. Really? You can shut the hell up too! Her blood boiled, reddening her face. She had to do something. Just standing here at the mercy of these sickening remarks made her skin crawl. Readiness wound her muscles into coiled springs. Could she get away with it? Would it make things worse? Did it matter at all at this point what she did? They’d take no immediate action to kill her.
Based on what she’d been told about Essex, his final agonizing revelation for Aaron would be to kill him with the knowledge that they were keeping her. One last cruel attrition. Her guard had just informed her as much with his own lurid twist. But bonehead here had let go of her arm, assuming she would stay put. Nowhere to go. A scared little girl…
Alex spun. She snatched the rifle barrel and shoved it aside, drew back to punch, the picture in her mind’s eye of her fist crashing clear through his ugly head. His reaction to force his gun back to bear too late, the whites of his eyes expanded a split second before impact. She opened her fingers, and the heel of her hand smashed straight up into his nose.
Blood spurted. His head snapped back. Staggering backward, his skull impacted the block wall with a crack. The incredulous stare glazed over. Soundless words floundered for escape from carnage-covered lips. Knees buckled. He slid down in slow motion, eyes rolling back in his head, unused rifle coming to rest across slack thighs.
Maybe she’d killed him…?
Essex stopped flapping his lips, and he and Aaron both looked at her, in startled question.
Aaron arched an eyebrow and murmured, “Holy shit…”
Payback. “No more shitty comments from the peanut gallery,” she muttered and rubbed her hand. As she turned back to face the scene, she wiped her hands on her pants to remove the unsavory collateral of her action. Silence. A look up to see all eyes on her. Um, enjoy the show? Sarcastic comments were all that came to her flustered mind. She spread her hands and shrugged, leaned back against the wall, and folded her arms. Not even a glance at the dropped weapons near her feet. The other two henchmen rushed to guard her. A close yet safe distance, rifles at ready, they would not make the same mistake.
“Humph!” Essex grimaced. “Oh, I like this! Well, well, well now. Maybe we have more fun here than I expected. And one of you throw a coat on that woman! It’s damn cold out. What are we, heathens here?”
One of the guards dropped to the motionless man sprawled on the ground beside Alex and stripped off his upper body armor and jacket. She made no move to cooperate in receiving the extra covering, and the man ended up just draping it over her shoulders from the front.
Perverse intrigue glossed Essex’s features. “Fighting skills. Fiery stubbornness. Refusal of my more than generous offer of keeping her warm. Mmm, and that smokin’-hot body, tactical outfit be damned! Even more alluring in person than on surveillance.” A lingering appraisal and he licked his lips. “Maybe…” He delivered a long pause as he turned a sly smile back on Aaron. “Maybe the question here really is not what do I do to you… but what do I do to her?”
Oh Jesus, don’t even go there…
Every fiber of Aaron’s being confined corded tension. Ready to deliver as much damage as conceivable once Essex got around to making a real move, he struggled to neutralize whirling emotions. This had to be just about the worst mental scenario imaginable in which to ready for a fight.
All that time they’d spent in training Alex on the psychological aspects, here he stood smack in the middle of his own cognitive chaos. Dammit, he should never have allowed her into this mess! What if? No. Don’t think about it. Keep your head in the game, son. He tilted his head, cracking his neck. A stress reliever. Like that would work. His blood might as well have run as ice in his veins.
Essex gave a show of overdramatic slowness in unsheathing his large, scarred knife. He reveled in the art of the tease. “And here is what we carve with, ladies and gentlemen.” The ugly blade curled and swooped through the air in front of him, his arm and fingers commanding artful displays of dexterity, the weapon moving as an extension of his black soul. “Anticipation at its best.” Battle imminent, his tongue skimmed his lips again. “Haven’t had anyone actually worth challenging at this game for a long time.”
Essex’s steroid-fueled size and strength could be to his advantage, but he’d never been quite able to match Aaron’s speed. Aaron just needed to make sure he didn’t allow the big man to get a good hold on him.
Aaron pulled his own knife, folding it back against his forearm. Here we go…
Oh my Lord! What is it with these types of guys? These arrogant assholes who think they’re all that… and just have to show off, string it out, make a show of torture? Where is Les, and why doesn’t he just shoot Essex?
Were she able, Alex would do it herself. And she’d add a few extra bullets too. Just because. Aaron must be out of ammo, or he would’ve already done it. While possessing amazing skills as a fighter, Aaron was efficient and no show-off. He would just take care of business.
Unless… what if it was his concern for her and what her guards might do if things didn’t fall in their boss’s favor? Great. She had no choice but to just stand and watch. And hope.
Aaron remained silent and set. Essex circled. The torturous commentary continued, though the object of cruel intentions had switched from Aaron to Alex. Aaron blocked it out, ignoring the horrific words, intent on the man’s actions. Stopping at Aaron’s back, Essex spouted one last nasty comment.
Aaron spun and ducked, grabbing Essex’s slashing arm as the man sprang forward. He dropped to his back, kicked his feet up and caught Essex in the gut, using the big man’s momentum to flip him over. Aaron jumped back to his feet as Essex twisted away, regaining his own stance.
Really? Well, that was a way-too-obvious shit move. Either Essex is slipping… or just playing stupid. A few more head-on attacks that Aaron deflected with ease. At this rate he would just need to defend and his opponent would wear himself out.
Essex’s skills were infinitely better than this. What’s he doing, trying to fake me out? What’s he waiting for? From years ago, ages ago, it all started coming back. Essex pretending to be average, clumsy, drawing in opponents, making them overconfident, making them let their guard down, only for the man to unleash his real level of skill and crush the unsuspecting’s body, willpower, and hope in a barrage of calculated attacks they could never have believed him capable of.
Dragging it on and on until at last, satisfied and bored, he finished it in some profoundly disturbing manner. That’s how he’d built a reputation. That’s why he was feared. And Aaron now recognized where Shane had picked up some of his tendencies.
He knows that I know that. Why bother using that on me? And then it hit him. It wasn’t just for him. Essex enjoyed the psychological effect his toying was having on Alex.
Stupid son of a…
Essex lunged.
Aaron sidestepped, swatted the knife, and shoved Essex hard on the back, sending both brute and blade to the rooftop.
Essex rolled, regained his feet and weapon. Poised in a wide crouch, he curled his fingers. “Come on!” Enlivened eyes gleamed with the ruse.
Aaron backed off several feet and threw his own knife down to lodge in the roof deck in front of him. He stripped off his jacket and tossed it over the side of the building. Both gloved hands raked through damp hair before his arms dropped back to his sides to shake out coiled tension. He glared at Essex from under his brows.
Just… fuck you. Deep breath. Keep a handle on this—you know better. Don’t let him get to you. Weight relaxed to one leg, hands coming to rest on hips, and he cocked his head. “This is fuckin’ stupid, man.”
Essex straightened to full height. He eased his stance and laughed as he tapped his blade against his palm, eyes aglow. “Ah, so you do reme
mber!” His sick grin revealed true intent as he nodded toward Alex. “Thought she might appreciate something a little milder before we get to the good stuff.” He glanced from one to the other, spreading his arms wide. “Aw, c’mon!” Shoulders lifted in dramatic showmanship to accompany faux incredulity. “She should at least think you have a chance here. She’s gotta have something to root for, doesn’t she? You and I both know how this is gonna end. But it’s still so enjoyable to see her keep that tiniest sliver of hope alive for you till the bitter end, isn’t it? I think it keeps things that much more interesting. You see, it doesn’t pay to care. Love can always be used against you. It is, however, entertaining to watch others be torn apart by it.”
True. It can be used against you. But it can also give strength. I’ll take my chances. And what is life worth without it anyway? Aaron transferred his gaze from Essex to Alex. Her defiant eyes sparked with dread and worry. But also her confidence in him. She had seen what he could do, and he knew she relied on that now to keep it together, to keep her sanity. What Essex had done for sport to distress her had not entirely gone to his plans. Aaron set his jaw, giving her a slow nod that she returned. At least she wasn’t just terrified.
Each receiving the other’s understanding and assurance, Aaron focused again on Essex. The wordless, intimate encouragement he and Alex had shared didn’t go over well with the big man. Essex uttered a deep growl and flexed his arms, his face contorting from demented enjoyment of anticipated torture to outright madness. Now it would get bad. Their true skill level would come into play, and it would take everything. Better than stringing this out. Attention locked on Essex, Aaron performed a slow-motion kneel and plucked his blade from the roof. Let’s get this done and over with.
Off the Deep End Page 26
