The shout came from the front and she instantly shrank back down, hoping the yell wasn’t about her, but then she heard Marco say, “Merrick’s little whore has been peering out of the window.”
Her heart sank. She had been spotted. Every muscle tensed as she waited for the Range Rover’s brakes to slam on and for them to open up the back and deal out a punishment of some kind, but nothing happened.
Rodriguez tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “Not much to see anyway.”
“Yeah, but she needs to learn to behave herself.” Marco sounded disappointed. “She should take some tips from the other one. We’ve not heard a peep out of her since we took her. I reckon Merrick’s bitch is going to give you problems if you don’t beat it out of her early on, boss.”
“That won’t be a problem. I enjoy breaking the more resilient ones.” His words were cold and sent ice freezing through her veins.
“Fine,” said Marco, but she could hear the petulance in his voice. “You’re the boss.”
“We’re nearly there,” he replied. “We can deal with her then.”
Nearly there? Nearly where? As far as she could tell, they were in the middle of nowhere.
Lily remained motionless in the back of the SUV, not wanting to risk a beating from Marco, who seemed more than happy to do the job for Rodriguez. She tried to make eye contact with Jess, but the other woman was still zoned out, not even seeming aware of what was going on around her. Lily wished there was something she could do to bring her out of her stupor. She understood this was probably a coping mechanism, especially after what Jess had been through at the hands of Cigarette Hands, and then watching Lily blow his brains out. Her mind must have taken her somewhere it could be at peace. Perhaps the girl had the right idea—imagining herself on a beach in the Maldives was certainly preferable to her current situation, but Lily couldn’t do it. She needed to stay alert and focused if she was ever going to get them out of this situation.
The vehicle continued down the same road for another fifteen minutes, and then took a sharp left hand turn. Immediately, she knew the terrain they were on had changed. The previously smooth ride now sent them bumping and jolting around the back of the vehicle, and red dust burst up from the wheels and settled on the windows. That they were heading away from the main road didn’t bode well. She kept in her mind the café she’d seen, and the approximate distance they were from it now—ten miles or more? She couldn’t be certain. If they traveled much more of a distance, she wouldn’t be able to make it back on foot and would need to think about an opportunity to steal a vehicle. That made the possibility of escape even more complicated, and things were already complicated enough.
Rodriguez kept driving, another ten minutes or so, the bumpiness of the ride not lessening at all. Lily’s certainty they were being driven into the desert to be raped and buried in a shallow grave deepened. There was no way this road—if it could even be called a road—led to another town. She would fight with every bit of strength she had left—she’d kick and bite, and if they ever untied her hands, she’d claw their eyes out, too. Even if they killed her, she was determined to cause them some form of pain before they did.
The Range Rover jolted to a halt, and she heard the beep of some kind of electronics, and then a low hum.
What the hell is that?
“Welcome to your new home, ladies,” Rodriguez called over his shoulder.
Home? At least it meant they weren’t about to be buried in the desert. Not yet, anyway.
The vehicle got moving again and Lily risked lifting her head enough to peer out of the window. They passed through a set of massive, solid metal gates which were still rolling back even as they drove through. That’s what the hum is, she realized. Electric gates. Beyond the gates were tall, stone walls, the same color as the desert sand. The gates were also painted the same orangey color. If the property was viewed from a distance, it would blend into the background. Perhaps that was exactly the point—Rodriguez didn’t want anyone spotting the place, from the road or sky. She’d bet any money the roof of the building was the same color again.
Lily tried to get Jess’s attention again. “We’re here,” she whispered. “They’re going to get us out of the vehicle now.”
She didn’t respond, but when Jess blinked, a tear slipped down her cheek. Lily wished her hands weren’t tied. Even though she normally hated to touch people, right at that moment all she wanted to do was reach out and pull the other woman into a hug.
Monster (Present Day)
He’d lost a lot of blood. Perhaps too much.
Monster thought he was still in the vehicle driven by one of Rodriguez’s men, but he couldn’t be sure. He didn’t know if it was the same Range Rover he’d first been put into, or if he’d been moved while unconscious. He also had no idea how long he’d been in it, or where they were going.
His grip on the outside world was coming to him in fits and starts. He felt like he was dreaming, or had a fever, and he wasn’t quite sure which parts of what he was hearing and seeing were real, and which came from a dream. At one point, Lily’s face appeared above him, and she smiled down at him, her fingers resting lightly on his cheek. He reached for her, sheer relief flooding through him. She’d managed to get away from Rodriguez and find him, but then his eyes slipped shut and she vanished from view. When he opened them again—an undeterminable amount of time later—she was gone. With a heart crushing certainty, he knew she’d never been there in the first place.
His shoulder throbbed and burned, a pulsing wave that encapsulated his whole body. The bullet must still be lodged inside his body somewhere, and from the heat spreading from the area, he assumed it would end up infected—if he didn’t die from blood loss first. Before now, he’d never realized it was possible to have one part of your body searing hot, while the rest felt ice cold.
He couldn’t afford to die, if only for Lily’s sake. If he died, no one would ever save her from Rodriguez. That she was already in the hands of the other man killed him inside. The thought of Rodriguez touching her, of him tearing off her clothes, and forcing his cock inside her while she screamed and fought him caused a fire inside Monster which made him forget his equally burning shoulder. He tortured himself with the thought of the other man’s mouth on her skin, his tongue leaving trails of saliva across her. Would Rodriguez go down on her, and taste her? Would he love eating her as much as Monster did? Then the worst thought of all occurred to him, the one that teased and tortured his frazzled brain …
Would Lily enjoy it?
He couldn’t think like that. Just because Rodriguez had the looks of an Arabian prince, and was rich, and powerful, not to mention had the type of charisma that could make anyone do as he asked, didn’t mean Lily would fall for him. He’d taken her hostage, after all.
That voice came again …
Just like you did, and she fell for you.
What if, by some miracle, he managed to survive this and went to reclaim his Flower, only for her to tell him she didn’t want to leave?
Once more, he forced the thought from his head.
Lily was smart—she’d see straight through Rodriguez’s seductive ways—and she was a fighter. She wouldn’t just give in to him, though at the same time that worried him. He didn’t want her to end up hurt or dead by fighting back. No, he needed to have some faith in her. Lily wasn’t some helpless little female—she was clever and fearless. She’d proven that to him every single day he’d known her.
The vehicle drew to a stop. Rough hands pulled at him, and he cried out in agony as pain gripped his entire body. He would die—surely he would die. No person could survive such pain. And yet the pain gradually faded to the intense throbbing he’d grown used to, and Monster found he was still alive.
“You’re not going to die,” a male voice said. “As much as I’d like to see you dead for what you did to our cousins, Rodriguez says you’re too important. Apparently, we need your contacts, so you’d better god-damned live
or I’m the one who’s going to be in the shit.”
“Where are we?” he managed to croak. He was horribly thirsty. His tongue thick and his teeth sticking to his lips.
“A safe house. I’ll get you inside and someone will treat your wound.”
The man reached for him again. “No! Don’t touch me!” The memory of the pain was still so fresh, the terror of experiencing it again filled him.
The man gave an exasperated sigh. “I have to. I can’t leave you lying on the ground.”
“Please, just leave me.” Let me die.
No, he didn’t mean it. He needed to live.
Flower. Flower. Flower.
He brought to mind her beautiful face, the feel of her soft skin against his lips.
Resolve solidified inside him and he raised his hand. “Okay, do it.”
The man grabbed his hand and hauled him back up, wedging a shoulder under his armpit to give him support. Pain blasted through him, causing every muscle in his body to turn to stone and agony so bright it was like he experienced the pain through every sense—a bright white flash of pain.
Lily. Lily. Lily.
He wanted to be able to fight the man who was helping him now, knowing he was one of Rodriguez’s men and had been a part of taking Lily from him, but Monster knew he had to be smart. Rodriguez didn’t want him dead—in fact, it wasn’t as though Rodriguez had even been the one to shoot him. That pleasure had been taken by the man Lily had been involved with. If he was smart about this whole thing, and recovered enough to be able to think and act clearly again, he might even get this man to take him to wherever Rodriguez was holed up. He just needed to hope Lily would be in the same place, and she’d still be alive, and hopefully untouched, when he got there.
Monster wasn’t a fool. He knew the untouched part would be unlikely. Men like Rodriguez, and hell, even himself, took women when they wanted them. It wasn’t something he was proud of, but he’d never known any differently. They were a luxury—like a fast car, or good wine—to be enjoyed.
Only since he’d met Lily had he started to think differently.
Monster took a moment to try to figure out where he was. He was being helped toward the front door of a small townhouse. Kids were hanging out on the street, but no one paid attention to the injured man and the other man supporting him. This looked like the kind of neighborhood where people knew to mind their own business.
They reached the door, and it opened before either of them had been able to knock.
A woman stood in the doorway, a blonde of about his age, peering out at them with concern in her blue eyes.
He knew this woman!
Seeing her was like a punch in the chest, stealing air from his already struggling lungs. A memory poured over him of a young girl with honey-blonde hair, trying to scoop up hot lamb and rice up with her bare hands, while terrified she would be beaten for making a mess of the rug. Surely this couldn’t be the same girl. So many years had passed.
But if his father had wanted to rid his house of the girl after perhaps sensing a connection between her and Monster, wasn’t it entirely possible he’d passed her off to Rodriguez’s family?
Unaware of his recognition, the woman ran forward to put her arm around his waist and support his other side. “What happened?” she asked, as she helped them into the house.
“G.S.W. to the shoulder,” the other man said. “Happened a few hours ago. Think the bullet’s still in there.”
“Get him into the back. There’s a gurney he can lie down on. I’ll grab my bag and be right there.”
Was this woman a doctor? Or a nurse?
The idea she was the same girl his father had owned was crazy, wasn’t it? He’d lost a lot of blood, and had been losing consciousness. It was probably his delirious brain trying to feed him lies. Perhaps the loss of Lily had recalled the time when he’d felt he’d lost this nameless girl as well, and he’d conjured up an image and attached it to the face of this stranger.
She hadn’t looked at him with any recognition; why would she? He was a stranger to her as well.
Rodriguez’s man helped Monster through the house and into a large kitchen-dining area out the back. As she’d said, a hospital gurney was pushed up against one wall, and a silver tray was on wheels beside it. Bringing back people with injuries they couldn’t take to the hospital was obviously a matter of routine here.
“You need to get onto the bed,” the man said.
He was so weak he felt like he could barely lift his own feet up. “I can’t.”
“You’re going to have to help me. I can’t get you up there by myself. You’re not exactly a lightweight guy.”
Monster found the backs of his thighs bumping against the bed. He just needed to get his ass onto the bed and then he could lie down. If he could lie down, then he could sleep. And right now, all he wanted to do was sleep. Even though he knew there were important things to do, his body was a dead weight. He’d never needed to rest more in his life.
With a boost, he managed to get onto the bed. His shoulder screamed in fresh pain, and the edges of his vision started to gray out. The room appeared like it was at the end of a tunnel. A hand helped him lie back, and the moment he was flat, his eyes slipped shut.
He needed to sleep. He just hoped no one died while he did.
Monster (Twenty-three Years Earlier)
A squeak caught the boy’s attention.
A squeak? Nothing in his room made a noise like that. His ears strained as he looked up from the book he was reading—Robinson Crusoe—his eyes slightly narrowed as he concentrated.
There it was again! Definitely a squeak, followed by a scurry of little feet over by his dresser. Wildlife wasn’t something Monster ever saw much of. Did he dare hope something had made it into his room? Only on the rare occasion did he not eat his meals in the room, so, even though his father had women come and clean the room thoroughly once a week while Monster exercised, crumbs were bound to be missed. Where there was spilled food, there were mice.
Monster got to his hands and knees, and peered beneath the dresser. Right at the back, a small brown mouse sat on its hind quarters, using its front paws to wash its face and ears.
A wide smile broke out across Monster’s face.
“Hey, little guy,” he said softly. “You’re cute, aren’t you?”
The mouse paused its washing at the sound of his voice and looked in his direction, its tiny black eyes alive and alert with interest.
“Well, looks like you’ve found some food,” Monster said amiably, noting the half eaten cookie which must have fallen down the back of the dresser. “If you’re going to stay for a while, you’re going to need something to drink as well.”
Monster found the mouse a thimble of water and placed it at the back of the dresser, well out of view. He tore up a sheet of paper into shreds, hoping the little creature could make a bed out of it.
When Monster’s next meal arrived, he dropped some of the potato down the sleeve of his shirt, and later deposited it for the mouse to make a meal of.
Days passed, and he grew used to having the little creature around. He’d never had a pet before—the concept of one had never even occurred to him—but now he found he enjoyed the company. Though the mouse never came too near, Monster found if he was patient, and lay on the floor with his arm out, with whatever scraps of food he’d saved from the day’s meal held between his fingertips, the mouse gradually began to venture closer. Its whiskers quivered, nose twitching as it edged nearer and nearer. When finally the mouse darted forward and snatched the food from his fingers, Monster had to stop himself jumping up and down with joy.
A couple of days later, his father sat with him in his bedroom, running through a history lesson with him. His father appeared in a warmer mood than normal, even offering Monster a hint of a smile, and ruffling the boy’s hair when he got a question right.
But then halfway through a sentence which his father was reading from a textbook, he suddenly sto
pped and frowned.
Monster froze, knowing exactly what he’d heard.
His father’s eyes narrowed. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what, Father?” he bluffed.
The older man didn’t respond, but sat with his head tilted to one side, like an animal himself, listening.
Please stay quiet, Monster willed the mouse. Just a little longer.
But the squeak came again.
His father got to his feet, stalking to the other side of the room. “What the hell are these?” He bent and picked something tiny off the floor. “Ugh. Rodent droppings. How the hell did these get in here?”
He got to his hands and knees and checked beneath the dresser. Monster’s eyes filled with tears, knowing his pet was about to be discovered. He reached beneath, but instead of coming out with the mouse, he held up some bits of bread, and the thimble with water. “What’s this, Monster? Have you been feeding something under here?”
There was no point in lying. “Yes, Father. There was a little mouse. I thought it might be hungry.”
He strode across the room and delivered a stinging blow to Monster’s ears, leaving one side ringing. “You not only keep the presence of rodents a secret, but you actually fed it with food I’ve given you? Just how much do you want to upset me, Monster? If you have one mouse, you’ll soon have hundreds. And I don’t expect to work hard to put food in your belly, only for you to give that food to a god-damned rodent!”
“I’m sorry, Father,” he said, cowering. He was worried about the repercussions of what he had done, but he was also worried about the mouse. Where was he now? He must be somewhere in the room. Monster’s brain whirred, trying to figure out a way he could get the little creature outside, to relative safety. But it was impossible. He couldn’t get himself to safety, never mind a mouse.
“Wait here,” his father snapped, as though Monster had any other choice, and stalked from the room.
Quickly, his heart pounding, he ran around the room, stopping to lie on the floor and peer beneath the furniture, trying to spot his little friend. Where are you? Where are you?
Delivered (The Monster Trilogy Book 3) Page 2
