I’m alone in the dark, locked up, with nobody to hear my cries. They’ve taken him from me. Nobody believes me. She is a liar, a thief, and a fraudster, and probably a murderess. She’ll kill him for sure.
Not only does she want me out of the picture . . .
She wants me dead.
But then I heard a shuffle. I wasn’t alone after all.
“Who’s there?” I groaned. My head hurt. I lifted my hand to my forehead and traced a small lump just above my left eyebrow. Bruised, but not cut.
A light went on, illuminating the dank room. I guessed it was a basement.
“I wondered when you’d wake up. Hungry? Thirsty?”
I lifted my eyes and saw the outline of the man who’d abducted me. He was no longer wearing his mirrored shades. His eyes were black—a Johnny Depp kind of soulful black, and his five O’clock shadow spoke of time passing. How many hours had gone by? I hadn’t noticed stubble on him before. I must have been here for ages. What was he doing here? My watchdog? What the fuck was I doing here? Had he hurt me? I needed to get to Daniel!
“What am I doing here?” I fired at him.
“You’re being kept out of trouble, is all. You didn’t answer my question. You hungry? You must be, you’ve been out for a good forty-eight hours.”
I didn’t have the energy to ask more questions. “Yeah, I’m starving,” I conceded. “Thirsty too. What have you got?”
“There’s a kitchen. I could fix you a sandwich. Or grill you a steak.”
My food fantasy daydreams popped straight out of my mouth: “I want a baguette with Brie, please. Pickles if you have them. Lettuce, tomato. And a Coke. Classic.”
He laughed. His laugh told me he wasn’t much older than me. “Not demandin’ one bit, are we little princess?”
“What is this place?” I asked nervously, my mind a blank as to how and why I was here. “Where am I?” The last thing I remembered was being in a car with this guy.
“I’ll fix you a cheese sandwich. Nothing fancy. And we do have Coke. Not classic, this isn’t the Ritz.” He chuckled again. “You’re cute, but you know that, right?”
“So they tell me,” I said, feeling my bruised lump again. “I suppose I’ve been abducted and you’re taking me hostage?” I asked, trying to sound cool although my pulse was racing with dread and apprehension of what was to come.
“Abducted, yes. Hostage, no. I’ll fix you that sandwich. By the way, you bumped your head in the struggle. I didn’t hit you, in case you were wonderin.”
“A real gentleman,” I said wryly, not remembering a thing.
I must have momentarily dozed off, because what must have been a while later, I awoke to the smell of processed cheese under my nose.
“Here, eat this.” The guy put a plate out, and the soda on a table beside the sofa. I sat up, or tried to. He helped me, positioning his hands around my waist and hoisting me vertically. His shoulder brushed against my cheek. He smelled of cedar wood, or some expensive cologne, which surprised me. The intimacy of his proximity was unnerving.
I delved into the sandwich, moaning with relish as I chewed. The feeling of real food hitting my stomach calmed me, instantly giving me strength. I gulped down some Coke.
“Better?” he said. I nodded, filling my mouth with another large bite.
“We got TV,” he told me. “But otherwise nothin’ else to do. Except fuck, if you want to.”
I stopped chewing, wondering if I’d heard him right. “No thanks.” I sounded cocky but my heart was thundering in my chest. I’d been dismissive of him, he’d rape me for sure, to punish me. Or strike me. But I also know that if I showed fear I’d be giving him what he wanted—and he’d rape me anyway, probably even more violently.
But to my amazement, he laughed again. “You don’t know what you’re missin.’ Most girls beg me to fuck ’em.”
“I’m not most girls,” I shot back through a full mouth. My sassiness was working. It was keeping him at bay. “Where’s Daniel?”
“The guy in the coma?”
“Yes, the guy in the coma. He’s still alive, right?” The man didn’t answer. “What do you know?” I shrieked, my voice an octave higher. I grabbed him by the T-shirt and felt a set of hard abs beneath the fabric. This guy obviously worked out. A lot. Easy, Janie, don’t get too over confident, this man could break you in two . . . in more ways than one.
He held me by the wrist, restraining me. “Do that again and you’ll make my dick hard.”
I looked him square in the eye. But I was terrified. Just as I suspected . . . getting hysterical was turning him on. I kept my voice calm, even. “Tell me where Daniel is.”
“And you’ll fuck me if I do?”
“No, I won’t fuck you. And if you fucked me, I’d lie there like a stone. If that would give you pleasure, go ahead. Although . . . if I were in your shoes? I’d want a woman to reciprocate.” I eyed him carefully, and he said nothing. I guess I’d gotten to his pride. A cute looking guy like this would be used to women chasing him. This was Vegas, there was no shortage of women who’d find a crass, but physically attractive guy like him sexy. “I just want to know,” I carried on, “how much she paid you to bring me here, because if you let me go, I can double your fee.” I mentally thanked God for the Bellagio chip money. “I need to find Daniel, my boyfriend. My fiancée, actually.”
“Now I know you’re shittin’ me, ’cos he’s married to Dr. Jürgen.”
“Ah, so you are working for her? Thanks for the confirmation. I question that, actually—their marriage. Daniel would never . . .” I didn’t finish my sentence. The truth was I didn’t really know who Daniel was. Not the whole of him, anyway. There was the seed of doubt germinating in my mind. Maybe he’d made a foolish mistake and had married Kristin, in a moment of weakness? “Anyway,” I continued, “the woman is a crazy monster! Not to be trusted. Her sister died after being in a coma while she was in Dr. Jürgen’s care. Coincidence, don’t you think? Not. She’s a whack-job who needs to be stopped, and if you have any conscience whatsoever, any morals, you will let me out of here and lead me to Daniel!” I was crying now, the thought of Daniel lying there, helpless, was too much to bear.
My keeper swept his hand over his dark hair. “The dude is in a coma, there’s nothing any of us can do. And anyway, you’re barkin’ up the wrong tree, lady, cos no, I don’t have any morals and I don’t have that much of a conscious either.”
“Conscience, not conscious,” I snapped, gulping down my tears.
“Whatever.”
“You think a coma is that straightforward?” I demanded. “Even patients in a supposed ‘vegetative state’ can know what’s going on around them. I read about a team of neuroscientists that used state-of–the-art technology to communicate with a man in a vegetative state. He was able to relay information to them about his condition, saying that he was not in any pain. Not verbally but by studying and mapping the neural patterns flashing on their screen. Like a ‘yes’ produced a different neural signature than when he thought ‘no.’ You see? He is not a lost cause! I am not giving up on Daniel!” I hoped my little speech had convinced this man how urgent the situation was. I drained the last of my Coke and sprang up from the sofa. An instant head rush caused me to topple back down, landing with a thump on my coccyx.
“Whoa, be careful.” His hands shot out to steady me. “Easy, baby, you don’t want to bash your head again.”
His word, ‘baby’ filled me with fury. How dare he talk this way to me? My eyes were daggers, my twisted mouth poison. “You make me sick,” I mumbled, “doing something like this for money.” I wanted him to hear me, but at the same time talking to him this way was risky. All I could think about was getting to Daniel, but I was probably going about it the wrong way.
“It was the money, I admit. But being holed up in here with you gives me a whole lot to look forward to.” He smirked. “Get it? Holed up? A hole lot to look forward to, as in a ‘hole’ to look forward to? Your sweet pussy
bein’ that succulent little hole.” He laughed again, his straight white teeth making me wonder why he was involved in shady dealings when he could have practically found work as a fashion model.
I screwed up my face as if I’d eaten lemons and cockroaches all in one go. “You disgust me,” I muttered. I looked around the room for a weapon. My purse was hooked on the edge of a wooden chair. It wasn’t that heavy though. I wished I’d been wearing spiky heels, but my Converse sneakers were useless. There were no ornaments, no lamps, no fork or knife accompanying the sandwich he’d brought me. The room was sparse, except for this sofa, a table, two chairs, and one of those oversized beanbag loungers on the floor.
He stroked my cheek with the pad of his thumb. “You and me will fuck, baby, you’ll come a thousand different ways, then you’ll forget about this Daniel dude, I guarantee.” He took my empty plate and glass away, and swaggered toward the kitchen, and I instantly regretted that I hadn’t thought of smashing them over his dumbass head.
There was no point arguing with this half-witted jerk, nor trying to convince him. So far, he hadn’t manifested a violent side, but that didn’t mean I was safe. He was strong and muscular and could overpower me with his little finger. I needed to find his Achilles’ heel, or win him over in some way to get the information I needed, without compromising myself.
And get the hell out of here.
7
Daniel.
A KALEIDOSCOPE OF colors is fragmenting my brain into puzzle pieces. I am trying to fit them into the right places. I see my father, and my childhood dog, Smokey. They’re waiting for me, calling my name. It’s getting brighter now, a white light looming around my head like a halo.
A then a burst of pale gold engulfs my whole body . . .
8
Janie.
I GOT UP from the sofa—slowly this time—and cased the room. The exit door must have been in the kitchen, where the guy was right now. I realized I’d never asked him his name. I found him washing up my plate. His tall frame towered over me.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he said, winking at me.
The exit door was right in front of me.
“Don’t even think about it,” he warned, reading my mind. “It’s locked and I have the key.”
“What’s that noise?” I asked.
He cocked his head. “I been wonderin’ the same thing.”
“Where does this door lead?”
“Corridors. Laboratories. This is where Dr. Jürgen works.”
I pressed my head up against the door. “Sounds like a bunch of animals. Locked up animals.”
“You freakin’ me?”
I looked at him. “She’s a neurologist. You know what they use animals for, don’t you? Vivisection? Experiments? But I guess if what you said is true about not having any morals, you wouldn’t give a damn.”
“Fuck!” he said. “I knew I shouldn’t have gotten myself involved in this!” His face changed from menacing man to concerned guy in a heartbeat. For the first time, I felt hopeful. This man did have a heart after all. Maybe I could persuade him to let me go.
“What’s your name anyway?” I asked.
He covered his hands over his face. “I can’t do this shit. You serious? You think that’s animals we hear? Locked up in cages? Monkeys and shit?”
“It sure sounds like it. Look, whatever your name is, you don’t have to do this. Keep me here against my will. Like I said, whatever she’s paying you, I’ll pay you double.”
He stared at me, eyeing me up and down. His tough guy demeanor all at once left him as he let out a long sigh and slumped his shoulders. “Fine, let’s get the fuck out of here. I promised I’d keep you here until he was transferred to another hospital—”
“Daniel?”
“Yeah, Daniel. Dr. Jürgen wanted me to keep you here—keep you from doing mischief. Nobody was going to get hurt, least of all you.” His accent had suddenly become normal, no longer the working class tough guy with an attitude.
I felt the lump on my forehead. “So what about this?”
“You bumped your head getting out of the car.”
“So why can’t I remember? Why are the last couple of days a blank?”
“Because Dr. Jürgen gave you something. I don’t know what it was . . . an injection of some kind. Something to knock you out till you were safely locked up here. Look, she told me to distract you . . . entertain you. Get into your panties if I could. Told me how you were obsessed with her husband and stalking him. She didn’t want to call the cops on you but wanted you out of the way. She told me you were a danger, not only to yourself, but to her husband Daniel. She was scared you’d pull out his tubes or something. I thought I was doing everyone a favor.”
“Wow, she’s really deranged, that woman. She’s the one who’s likely to pull out his tubes! And I cannot believe that Daniel is her husband!”
He shrugged. “I’m sorry, I don’t know who to believe.”
“Oh, because she wears a white coat you should believe her? She’s a fucking lunatic! She drugged me once before. Daniel had woken up from his coma—I was there—yet suddenly he was out like a light the second she came on the scene. Her sister was married to Daniel before she died. He proposed to me! He would have told me if he’d married her. Daniel and I are in love! We’re engaged!”
“Look, Janie. Dr. Jürgen is a real doctor. I saw her in action at the hospital. Met nurses and other doctors who work for her. She’s the real thing, not some phony. You? You I don’t know from Adam. All I can do is take her word for it.”
“Well her word is bullshit, please believe me!” I yelled out. But the way he was looking at me showed me that he didn’t believe me. Not one bit. I tried another tactic. “How much is she paying you?”
“Ten thousand dollars.”
“That’s it? Ten grand? For breaking the law?”
“Hey, I don’t know where you come from but ten grand for a couple days work is pretty darn fine by my standards! Got to pay my bills, you know.”
“So what are you, anyway? A security guy? A bodyguard or something? How did she find you?”
He raked his hands through his dark hair. “You think I look the part then, huh?” He grinned at me.
“The part?”
“Yeah, you think I’m doing a good job of acting like a tough guy?”
I stared at him. This was surreal. Who the hell was this person? “You never did tell me your name,” I said suspiciously.
“Remy. Remy Foxton.”
“You say that like I should know who you are.”
“Maybe you seen me on TV.”
“You’re a fucking actor? You’re kidding me, right?”
“No.”
“So all that pussy talk was you . . . you—”
“Playing a role. Glad I had you convinced.”
“How did she find you? Put an ad for an audition in Variety, looking for actors or something?”
He laughed. The movie star, pearly white teeth laugh that had me so flummoxed earlier. The actor thing made total sense.
“Okay, truth is I’m not really a real actor. Yet. But I wanna be an actor. They tell me I got the looks for it. I’d really like to stop this line of work, but like I said, it pays the bills.”
I narrowed my eyes, thinking of the last time I got tricked by an actor. “Cal Halpan didn’t have anything to do with this, did he?”
“Cal Halpan? Sounds familiar.”
“We worked together on a movie. He was my leading man. Daniel was the director actually.”
Remy grinned. “You’re an actress? Get outta here!”
“Remy, can we get the fuck out of here, please?”
He squinted his eyes as if sizing me up. “You can make up the ten grand I’ll be losing if I let you go?”
“I swear. Like I said, I’m a woman of my word; I’ll pay you double.”
“Twenty grand?”
“Twenty grand.”
“Deal,” he said, and held out his hand. We s
hook on it. “You’d better come through, I have some major debts to pay off.” He dug into his jeans’ pocket and pulled out a set of keys. “Your ticket to freedom.”
I exhaled a giant sigh of relief, and tears prickled my eyes. Finally, there was a chance to find Daniel before it was too late. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
I watched him, as he fed the key into the lock and turned it, like I was a dog observing its owner eat steak. Every second felt like an eternity while Daniel’s life was on the line. I knew I had to get him away from Kristin but wasn’t sure how. I still had no plan. It was bad enough that Kristin was such a respected doctor, but if they really had gotten married that would give her legal right to make executive decisions. How the hell would I—a nobody in people’s eyes—convince anyone?
“Are you as strong as you look?” I asked Remy. “Or are those muscles just for show?”
He laughed. “Yeah, I’m pretty strong.”
“Can you fight? Do you have any martial art skills?” I wasn’t sure what the hell I was thinking, but trouble, in one form or another, was surely on its way.
He unlocked the door and it flew open. The animal sounds became instantly louder. I winced.
“I box,” Remy told me. “I’m pretty tough for real, but in a ring, not on the street. I’m sure as hell not looking for trouble, nor do I want to do anything illegal.”
“Oh, so locking me in here wasn’t illegal? You had no—”
“Ssh, what’s that sound?”
“All I can hear are the animals, I—”
“Ssh! Listen,” he whispered.
There was someone there, at the far end of the corridor. My heart jumped into my throat and then plummeted down to my toes. I thought I heard the cock of a revolver. And then, out of nowhere a slim, dark figure emerged from the shadows. “Don’t move,” the voice said.
I recognized the accent. “Elodie?”
GLASS: A Standalone Novel Page 23
