Dane - Book 2: A Foster Family Saga

by Phillips, Avery

  “She’s not dead,” he claimed. “I hit her pretty hard, but she’s not dead. Leave her, Cecilia. Get me some water and drag this piece of shit out of my bed so I can take a rest. This thing’s on autopilot. Don’t touch shit up there, do you understand me?”

  Sissy raced to the kitchenette and came back with a glass of water she helped Darien drink. Then she struggled to slide my heavy weight from the bed. I tried to help her as much as I could. I was bound in an awkward position, making it hard to maneuver around. At last I fell with a thump to the floor next to Hanna. Sissy quietly slid her fingers to my lips and pulled away the tape.

  “You hungry?” she asked. She smiled and nodded as if to answer for me. I couldn’t look at my mother without feeling contempt and anger. “I’ll fix you something.”

  She bustled back to the kitchen and came back with a plate of food that I couldn’t eat because my hands were tied. She looked like she didn’t know what to do as her eyes flitted from the plate to Darien. He was already asleep. Either he had passed out from the vodka or the pain. She wrung her hands. I said, “I’m not hungry. How is Hanna?”

  “She looks like she’s okay,” my mother whispered.

  “Is her pulse strong?”

  Sissy nodded.

  “Momma, things are getting out of hand. You need to send for help. I need you to take the radio and send out an SOS. Darien’s hurt bad, Momma. If he takes a turn for the worse, none of the rest of us can sail this yacht. We’ll be stuck out in the Gulf of Mexico. We could die! Do you even have enough supplies?”

  “No, no, don’t think like that, Dane. Darien’s gonna take care of everything,” she said, but she looked doubtful.

  “Did you see how much he was bleeding?” I hissed.

  Darien groaned and rolled over on the bed. Sissy leapt back like she was afraid to be caught talking to me. She shook her head when her eyes came back to mine. “I can’t do that, Dane. I have to do what Darien says. Darien has it all figured out, all right? You have to trust him.”

  “Momma, please!”

  Sissy ran from the room, shaking her head. I pounded my forehead against the floor in frustration. I turned my head to look at Hanna, distress coursing through my body. What had I gotten her into? I should’ve known it wasn’t safe for her to get tangled up with Darien. Now she was lying facedown on the floor of a yacht out in the ocean with no hope for help. Gervais had sent out my best men. We had put up the best offense and somehow lost the ball. Now I had no idea of where we were headed, and Darien wouldn’t be so gullible the next time. There would be no more satellite phone calls.

  The way I saw it, we were headed for doom. If Darien didn’t wake up or the wound got infected and he wasn’t able to sail, we were stranded unless the Coast Guard or someone happened to stumble upon us. I didn’t trust Sissy to set me free to call for help. She was a slave to him. If Darien somehow pulled through, there was still the drug cartel to face. Without the money, he was sure they would take us all out. I had to come up with a plan, and fast. I closed my eyes and thought as hard as I could. There had to be something I could do.

  CHAPTER 12

  Amazingly, the next morning Darien seemed none the worse for wear, despite having a bullet picked out of his hip the day before. He rolled out of the bed, lumbering like a bear and making up as much noise. When he spotted his two captives on the floor, he swore in a fury as, I guess, he remembered the botched hand-off.

  “I can’t even stand the look of you,” Darien spat.

  “Mutual.”

  He left the room without another word. I struggled to a sitting position, watching Hanna. It seemed like most of the morning had passed before she finally moved and I knew she was awake and well. My heart leapt, and I swallowed hopefully as she slowly rolled over with a disoriented groan. She tried to reach up to touch her head, but her hands were bound in front of her. Hanna cried out in alarm.

  “It’s okay, it’s okay,” I said. Her wild eyes flew to mine.

  “Dane!” she said like I was her salvation. “What happened? Why am I tied up?”

  “I’m tied up too, but I’ll get us out of this. I swear to you. Are you badly hurt?”

  “My head is killing me.” She winced. I flinched at her use of words. She struggled to sit up and smile wanly. “Figure of speech.”

  “Darien hit you with something. Listen, try to move your hands, wriggle your wrists. See how much looser you can get it.”

  She jerked her hands up and down, but she couldn’t get much laxity. She frantically looked over the room. “We have to find something that can cut this.”

  “Look at that corner of the bed. That metal piece has come detached. Try to rub your tie against it.”

  “I can try.” She couldn’t just walk over. She had to scoot along on her bottom until she reached the head of the bed. There was just enough room between the wall and the bed for her to get her arms up to the broken piece. She looked over at me triumphantly as she swiftly rubbed her arms back and forth. “It’s going to take forever.”

  I nodded. Whatever it took, we had to get free. I watched her struggle with the ties. Sweat broke out on her face, but she kept going.

  “My arms are getting tired,” she huffed. She blew out a breath and her red hair fluffed up. In the heat and humidity, the red locks were damp and curled. She reached up with her still bound hands to wipe the perspiration from her brow, and suddenly the distressed zip tie snapped where she had been working at it. “Yes!”

  “You did it, Hanna! Now, try to pull off that piece of metal.”

  The prospect of being unbound gave me ideas of how we could get off the yacht. All I needed to do was muscle my way to the radio to cry for help or find the satellite phone. I could overpower Darien. I just needed to be free.

  “Dane, it’s screwed in. I can’t get it off. It’s no use,” she said. Hanna shook her head in frustration. She scooted over to a narrow set of drawers built into the wall. With her hands free, she could rifle through the contents. “I may be able to find something else.”

  “Keep it down,” I said. I looked to the door to make sure we weren’t in danger of getting caught. Hanna dug through the first drawer, coming up empty-handed. By the third drawer, she found a used disposable razor. I nodded. “Yes, that will work. Break away the plastic and get to the razor. Use it to cut through your leg ties, and then do me.”

  Hanna raced into action, sawing through the black plastic at her ankles. Her face registered pain as she stretched her legs, renewing circulation, but she didn’t have time to glory in the release. “Lie still,” she murmured.

  I rolled onto my stomach and held my arms back so she could cut through, and then she moved to my feet. “I could kiss you right now,” I said.

  She looked up at me with flashing hazel eyes, a frown on her lips.

  “Figure of speech,” I muttered.

  “What do we do next?”

  I knew the door was locked, but they would be back. “We have to wait it out,” I said. “When one of them comes in, you pretend like you’re still tied up. I’ll maneuver past them and try to get the upper hand. Just stay here.”

  We waited for the opportunity to make our move. As we sat on the floor side by side, we didn’t touch or speak. I stole glances at her from the corner of my eye. She looked worn and tired, and the blood in her hair crusted and flaked. She reached for her head several times. I knew she was in pain, but she was toughing it out. She didn’t complain.

  I felt a need to comfort her, but I didn’t know how when the bulk of her discomfort was my fault. Not only had I broken her heart, I had put her life in danger. I had a head full of lofty ideas about escape, but the truth was nothing was set in stone. Anything could happen, as Gervais had fatefully told me before I ever set foot on the yacht. When it came to Hanna, I couldn’t let her get hurt any worse.

  I slid my hand along the hardwood floor until the tip of my finger touched hers. Her stomach rumbled audibly. “Hungry?” I asked softly. “When was th
e last time you ate?” I was starving as well. I was dirty and uncomfortable, and my body was locked up in tension after the night of sleeping awkwardly on the floor. I rubbed at the back of my neck and surveyed the cramped compartment. My eyes moved back to Hanna.

  She looked down and turned away. I knew she didn’t want to talk to me. She didn’t want to see me. I got up to seek out the plate Sissy had brought in for me the night before, finding it overturned at the side of the bed. The sandwich was dusty and stale and the cookies were crumbled, but it was food.

  I broke the bread and bologna in half and handed Hanna a portion. She nibbled at the corners. The stale bread nearly choked me going down, and the meat was probably brimming with food poisoning, but we didn’t have a choice. There was water in the bathroom, which couldn’t be accessed since I didn’t want to risk running it and alerting Griess and Sissy to the fact we were moving about.

  When we were done eating, I turned the plate back over to hide the evidence. “You need to get your rest,” I whispered.

  Hanna nodded and turned over on her side away from me. I studied the line of her back. She looked so small and fragile, like something that should be kept in a glass case, not thrown around like garbage and locked away in a cage like an animal. The rage that I was struggling to keep at bay threatened to boil over as I thought about what I would do to Darien when I had the chance. Hand in a fist, I cracked my knuckles and kept my eyes trained on the door.

  “You’ve been on your feet too long, Darien,” I heard my mother say just outside.

  “I had to make sure we weren’t being followed.”

  “We’re not. I told you I was watching out.”

  “You don’t know what to look for, woman. Help me to the bed.”

  The door opened slowly and Darien hobbled inside with the assistance of my mother. At the first sound of their approach I had lain back down, but as soon as they were past the threshold I sprang up from the floor.

  “What the devil!” Darien scowled and took a swing at me that I easily avoided. I drove my fist into his solar plexus, making him double over as his lungs expelled air.

  “Darien! Dane!” my mother yelled, appalled.

  I didn’t want to hurt her, but I would to get free. She was part of the reason I was here. I pushed her out the door and slammed it shut, then threw Darien’s body up against it so his weight would bar her entrance, as I rained blows across his face. He was too weak to fend me off, but strong enough to land some hits of his own. A sharp fist scraped across my face, drawing blood. I punched him in his hip.

  Darien screamed as if hell’s fire itself was burning down his leg. His body curled into a C, and he leaned over to grab his injured upper thigh. I didn’t relent. As he clutched his leg, I punched him hard in the back of his head. Pain shot through my fingers. I shook away the sting and hit him again, this time on the temple, and he dropped like a rock.

  “Be ready to run!”

  Hanna rose eagerly and nimbly, despite the fact her head wobbled as if her vision was swimming. I reached out a hand to steady her. “Wait a minute,” I said.

  I knelt down and yanked the knife from Darien’s waistband just in case.

  “When I open this door, my mother is going to come at me. I want you to stay back behind me until I get her out of the way. Do you understand?”

  She nodded, her eyes welling up with tears. “Your mother?” she said.

  “I told you they were bad people,” I said grimly.

  I held the knife in my dominant hand and opened the door cautiously. I peered out around the door’s edge. Sissy was nowhere in sight. “She may have a gun,” I warned. “Stick close.”

  We crept out of the room, tiptoeing across the deck. The kitchenette was open and empty, as was the entertainment area with the white sofas and flat-screen television. I waved behind me for Hanna to wait. I turned around and locked the bedroom door with the key that was still in the lock, thanking my lucky stars that Sissy hadn’t taken the key ring with her. I pocketed the keys and marched forward with my knife. To Hanna, I instructed, “You stay here. I’m gonna try to find my mother. Don’t come out until I call you.”

  She nodded once before I moved from lower deck and crept up to the upper level, where Sissy was waiting next to the wheel with Darien’s gun in hand. “Don’t come a step closer. I’ll shoot.”

  “Momma, let’s not do this.”

  “I mean it, Dane. I will do it! I’m not afraid to.”

  “I know, Sissy. I know you’re not scared, but you don’t want to do this. I don’t want to hurt you. Don’t make me.”

  “What did you do to Darien? Is he dead?” she asked. “I don’t have anything else to live for, son. I can’t do this without my husband, so help me God!”

  I closed my eyes and shook my head. “You have me!”

  “What did you do to Darien?”

  “He’s fine, Momma. If you give me the gun, I’ll take you to him. Nobody has to get hurt.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “Give me the gun,” I said sternly.

  Her hands were shaking, and there were tears on her face. She threw her head back to move her hair out of her face, but the gusty breeze blew it right back in her eyes. I seized the opportunity to disarm her.

  I grunted, snatching the gun from her loose grip and quickly stepping behind her to bring her arm up behind her back. I knew it was painful, but I needed her momentarily disabled to get her to the same room as Darien. “What did Darien do with the drug you used to knock me out?” Sissy shook her head and clamped her mouth shut. I shook her, hard, causing her to cry out. “Damn it, Momma. Where is it!”

  “It’s in the kitchen cabinet!” she wailed. She sobbed brokenly as I ushered her down the steps.

  “How the tables have turned,” I murmured angrily. “You thought you could lock me up and get away with all this, didn’t you? Darien had you convinced, but I told you not to trust him! He doesn’t mean you any good. All you had to do was come away with me, but you wouldn’t listen!”

  As I pushed her forward, something caught my attention from the corner of my eye. I whipped my head around to scan the horizon in the direction of the distant movement. The water was like glass, still and clear, reflecting the high blue sky. Clouds lazily drifted overhead, and the sun beamed down. Sissy ceased struggling as she saw what I was looking at.

  Out across the ocean, getting closer by the second, was a large white speedboat.

  “Hanna!” I shouted. “Come here, quick!”

  “What is it? What’s wrong?” she asked frantically.

  I pointed out to the rapidly approaching boat. She flung her arms up in the air and tried to shout across the distance, but they were too far. “Get up to the control room and call for help! Hurry!” I ordered.

  She took the steps two by two. I heard a crash as she slid into the control room, and then I heard her breathlessly shouting into the radio. “Mayday, mayday! Uh…this boat is Walk on Water and we have a passenger who needs to get to the hospital. We need help! Can you hear me? Hello? We need help!”

  “Copy that, this is Red Fire to Walk on Water. I think we see you. We’ll stop on by,” crackled a voice over the radio. As the man spoke, I heard music playing in the background. I craned my neck and shielded my eyes to try to get a closer look when the speedboat drew up alongside the yacht.

  Sissy struggled in my arms, but her move only served to pinch her arm painfully back. “I’m sorry, Momma,” I murmured. “This has to be done.”

  I moved toward the door to the bedroom where Darien was locked away, hoping he was still out for the count. Hanna jumped down to the lower deck to help the man in the next boat cross from his side to ours, and I noticed the crowd of college kids in the Red Fire. Hands shot up holding red plastic cups, and a chorus of male voices called out in greeting. There was pounding music playing and girls in bikinis dancing sexily, about ten kids in all.

  “Hey, hot stuff. You need some help?” A boy who was barely older than a
teenager leered at her.

  “We’ve been kidnapped,” Hanna blurted. “They’re holding us against our will, and someone’s been shot. Thank God you found us! We need to get to the mainland. Please tell me you have room for us!”

  “Got plenty of room, mamacita,” said a rangy Latino guy with peach fuzz on his face and a scrawny chest. He had two girls hanging from each arm and was holding up a bottle of beer. I had to get Sissy in the room before she managed to break free.

  I braced myself against the doorjamb and turned the key in the lock, forcing the door open quickly and shoving Sissy inside, but as I glanced back to make sure the rowdy young adults were taking Hanna seriously, Darien’s arm curled past the door. He gripped the collar of my shirt and pulled me hard against the punishing wood. My forehead whacked the door with a thud.

  “Ah!” I gasped, seeing stars. I shook my head to clear my vision, seeing Darien escape his cell with a malicious grin twisting his face. Quickly, I pointed the gun at him.

  “Don’t move. I will shoot.”

  “Who’s the bad guy, here?”

  I refused to turn my head this time to see who was approaching, but a tousle-haired youth who looked to be in his early twenties cautiously stepped into view. He had his hands up, and he spoke calmly and slowly. “I don’t want any trouble from you fellas, but somebody’s gonna get hurt with that gun being waved around. Now, who kidnapped who?”

  With lightning-fast reflexes for a man with a busted hip and a swollen face, Darien reached around and yanked the hero college boy close to his chest. His meaty forearm smashed against the boy’s windpipe.

  “God damn it!” I yelled.

  Hanna called, “What’s going on, Dane?”

  “He’s got a hostage. Tell the other kids don’t come aboard. I want you to go with them!”

  “I’m not leaving you!”

  “You have to. I need to get you to safety!”

  Darien took a step closer, his crushing arms choking off the young man’s air. The boy’s face was turning blue and he stared at me in panic. He reached out to me, and Darien smacked his outstretched hand back down. “Listen up and listen close, Dane Griess.”