CONVICT’S BABY
Page 59
“Yeah,” I replied, glancing upwards at the motel window. The lights were still out. Katia must still be asleep. Good .
Troy hung up, and I slipped my phone back into my pocket. As I waited for the guys to arrive with my hog, I leaned against the brick wall. My heart was already beating quickly in my chest with the anticipation of confronting this asshole. I was always like this—excited and ready to go at the hint of danger. Growing up, I’d always heard that it made me a wildcard. But now, I knew that I had what it took to stay on top of the game.
I closed my eyes and let myself daydream a little bit. What would Katia say when she realized that I’d caught her stalker? I felt my lips curve into a small smile. I knew she’d be overjoyed. She’d hug me, wrap those long, lean arms around my neck and pull me into a passionate embrace. I could practically feel her hot red lips kissing a slow trail down my neck, sending me into an agonizing state of arousal.
The roar of a bike on the road pulled me out of my fantasy. When I opened my eyes, I saw Troy and Tristan, the sergeant of arms, riding towards me. Tristan was on my bike and Troy was on his. Together, they looked like the dark knights of the night, saviors and sinners and saints, all rolled into one.
“Hey, man,” Tristan said. He slowed my bike and climbed off. “I’m gonna catch a cab back. You guys got this?”
Troy nodded. He turned to me. “Dante’s got it under control,” he said darkly. To me, he gave a brief nod. I climbed on my bike. It felt good to spread my thighs over that leather saddle again and feel the thrum of the strong engine beneath my body.
“I’m ready,” I said. “Let’s go.”
Troy and I rode off into the black night together. The wind whipping my face was refreshing and damp, and I closed my eyes, letting my bike balance me all the way down the road. The outskirts of L.A. were deserted, and I let Troy lead the way towards Ryan’s house.
As we zoomed along the dark roads, my mind turned to Katia again. I pictured her naked curled up in bed in that shitty motel. Please don’t wake up, I thought. I’ll be back soon. I’ll be back to rescue you and keep you safe. Just don’t wake up, and we’ll catch this guy. By the morning, this is all gonna seem like a bad dream .
Troy slowed his bike. “We’re getting close,” he called over his shoulder. “It’s just up there!”
I let out a low whistle as the moon appeared from behind a cloud, shining dull light over the landscape. Ryan’s house was perched on top of a hill with a small iron gate at the entrance. The moonlight made the white-painted brick house look like bleached bone. I could tell he was moneyed, obviously, considering he owned a big house outside of L.A. But unlike some of the other bigger homes, Ryan’s wasn’t that ostentatious. There was no pool in the backyard, no hidden grotto. I frowned. It looked almost normal.
“Very retro,” I whispered to Troy as I stashed my bike on the side of the road. “This guy lives like some kind of vintage mogul, huh?”
Troy snorted. “Shut up,” he mumbled. “He might have security.”
I glanced around. “You didn’t check that beforehand?” I rolled my eyes. Typical Troy.
“No time,” Troy said. He cleared his throat. “I went home with Anya.”
If I hadn’t been holding my breath, I would have laughed.
“Fuck,” I muttered. “We both had fun tonight.”
Troy and I got down on our hands and knees and began scaling the hill, keeping our heads out of sight. When we got closer to the house, I pulled out a pair of military binoculars and started glancing around. As far as I could tell, there weren’t any cameras. There was a small fence enclosing the backyard, but after listening and watching for a couple of minutes, I was sure he didn’t have a dog.
“Come on,” I hissed to Troy. “Let’s go.”
Troy and I army-crawled our way across the lawn. When we reached the back of the house, I reached in my bag for the tool I used to push a sliding door off the track, even with a safety bar. Gritting my teeth, I leaned my weight against the side of the house and pressed with all of my might. The door popped off the track with ease, and I grabbed it with both hands to make sure the glass wouldn’t shatter when it touched the concrete.
Throwing my head over my shoulder, I jerked my chin at Troy. “Come on,” I repeated. “We gotta get inside.”
The inside of Ryan’s living room smelled like rot and something pungent, like dried sweat mixed with oil. I wrinkled my nose as I stepped gingerly onto the carpet inside.
“This way,” Troy whispered. He stepped in behind me, pulling a gun from the waistband of his pants and holding it up in the air. “We gotta surprise this fuck.”
I nodded. The walls had looked like they were textured from the outside door, but now that my eyes had adjusted, I could see they were covered with photos torn out of magazines. Blinking, I stepped closer.
“Holy shit,” I whispered. “Look at this.” I reached out and grabbed Troy’s shoulder and pulled him back. Together, we gazed up at the wall in horror.
“Oh my God,” Troy muttered under his breath. “This guy’s a fucking sicko.”
“No shit,” I whispered back. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
They were all photos of Katia from almost every magazine available. From the cheap, sketchy tabloids to the glossy international fashion magazines, Katia’s face and body covered every inch of the wall. My cock chafed inside my pants as I stared at a particularly sexy photo: Katia spread out over a centerfold, wearing the skimpiest red dress I’d ever seen. It looked more like lingerie than clothes, and when I stepped closer, I saw that her nipples were very visible through the sheer material of the “dress.”
“God damn,” Troy said quietly. “This guy’s been hoarding pictures for years!”
It was a level of obsession unlike anything I’d ever seen. One of my best friends growing up had always been obsessed with a certain supermodel from the 80s, Kristina Randall. She was this half-European, half-Japanese chick who looked perpetually horny. His room had been plastered in Kristina Randall posters and spreads. He’d even gotten his dad to shell out eighty bucks for a commemorative print. But even his obsession didn’t come close to what I was looking at. It was like Ryan had no interests other than Katia, like he was so obsessed with her that he had to cover every inch of the wall with her perfect smile.
I felt queasy as I stepped back, staring at all the photos. Some of them were even duplicates. A few of them were so old that I barely recognized Katia. She looked like a child in one photo set on the opposite wall, where she was dressed in short-shorts and a crop top of white lace. Her blonde hair was tied into two pigtails, and she wore a seductive expression on her gorgeous, pouting face as she tongued a candy bar for the cameraman.
Along with the professional photos, there were a few that he must have taken with his own camera when she was unaware. There were ones of her at a café clearly taken from outside the building and ones of her at pageants fixing her makeup and talking to other attendees. These were all creepy, but some of the most recent ones caused my mouth to go dry.
There were photos of Katia in her bedroom taken from the same angle as the ones she received in the envelope recently. In the photos, she was sleeping, dressing, or watching TV on her bed. If this guy had been watching her, he knew who I was and that Katia and I had slept together.
“This is so fucked up,” I whispered again, more to myself than to Troy. Absorbed in the photos of Katia covering Ryan’s living room, I almost forgot why Troy and I had broken into Ryan’s house in the first place. I was transfixed by the level of sheer insanity.
“I guess he hasn’t had a girl over in a long time,” Troy said quietly. He stepped closer, holding his gun high in the air. “I think she’d probably get the sense of competition, huh?”
“Shut up,” I whispered. “We’re not here for jokes. We gotta find that asshole.”
“Surprised he didn’t have an alarm,” Troy said quietly. “He’s rich enough for that kind of shit, don’t you think?”
“Shit,” I whispered. “Look.”
Pointing towards the front door, I stared at a plastic security box tacked to the wall.
“Why didn’t that go off?” Troy asked softly. “Is it not armed?”
I sighed, raking a hand through my dark hair. “Maybe he’s not home. Come on, we gotta keep going.”
Troy and I went up the curved stairs leading to the upstairs and sneaked down the hallway together, him first holding his gun. As I crept stealthily along behind him, I saw that the space was getting narrower and narrower. It was like something from a horror film. I held my breath as I reached the end of the hall. There was only one door.
“This must be the bedroom,” I whispered, wrapping my fingers around the knob and pushing it open.
Ryan’s bedroom was dark and dim with curtains pulled over the windows, and I could vaguely make out the shape of an unmade, messy bed. The stale, funky smell was worse in the bedroom than it had been in the living room, and I wrinkled my nose as I walked over to the bed.
“Get up, you fuck!” I growled, pulling the blankets away from the mattress.
There was no one there.
I frowned.
“Hey, he’s not here,” I said, whirling around to face Troy. “Where the fuck did that asshole go?”
Troy was standing behind me with his hands pressed to his head, his gun on the floor in front of him. A short, stocky, balding man was standing behind him with a nasty grin on his round face.
“Yeah, sorry,” Ryan said. His voice was oddly whiny and high-pitched, almost like a teenage girl’s. “I guess that asshole decided to get up for a snack when he saw intruders near his house.” He cackled and held a gun up in the air. “You!”
“What?” I glared at him. “I don’t have a gun,” I said shrugging. I knew that men like Ryan were like time bombs just waiting to go off. And with my luck, he was about to explode right before my eyes.
“You little shits,” Ryan said. “I oughta call the cops and throw your asses in jail.” He grunted, grabbing Troy by the back of the neck and forcing him out of the room.
“Hey,” I said quickly. “Come on, we can settle this like men.” As slowly as I could, I slipped my hand into my back pocket, reaching for my folding knife.
Ryan glared at me. “What are you? Some thug looking for money? Drugs?” He threw his head back and laughed. “You know, I gave that shit up ages ago, and all my money’s in the bank.”
I stared at him, trying to stay calm. I could tell from Troy’s eyes that he was panicking, but I didn’t know what to do. I knew that I could get Troy’s gun if I could only inch forward and pick it up without Ryan noticing. I just had to keep him on guard, make him think that we were dangerous.
My lips curled into a grin, and I tried to hold it in place as I raised my eyebrows towards Ryan.
“You’re one sick fuck,” I said slowly, taking a step forward. “You’ve stalked Katia Reynolds for what, months now? And we’re here to deal with that little problem,” I added. “It’s just too bad that we caught you at home.”
“Why is that?” Ryan asked slowly. “You sad about the fact that you didn’t have enough time to jack off to those pictures?” He smirked, and I groaned inwardly. “I’ve got a nice collection, which has grown since I installed the camera in her bedroom. I don’t know why I didn’t do that sooner.” He laughed, spraying spittle on me.
Ryan got a glimpse of me in the thin strip of moonlight that peeked through a crack between the curtains and snickered. A nasty feeling began to form in the pit of my stomach when I realized that he figured out who I was. Shit .
“I recognize you,” he said as he took a step forward. The gun started to shake in his hand as his rage grew. “You’re the piece of trash who’s been fucking my girl.” His voice had risen an octave by the time he finished the sentence.
“Calm down, man,” Troy said as he placed his gun on the floor in an act of surrender. “Let’s talk this out. He didn’t know that she was your girl,” he explained, taking a step toward Ryan with his arms out in a placating gesture.
Ryan only made an animalistic noise of rage and disgust and turned his attention back to me. Troy took this opportunity to leap for Ryan, trying to pin him to the ground. For a moment, they tussled. Then Troy fell to the ground with a cry of pain when he twisted his ankle on the way down. In a flash, Ryan was down on his knees, reaching over Troy to grab the gun.
Ryan threw his head back and began to laugh. “I’ve got the guns now,” he said. “You boys wanna come with me into the living room?”
I glared at Troy. I knew it wasn’t entirely his fault, but we’d made a huge fucking mess of this whole plan. Troy wasn’t meeting my eyes, and I could tell that he was feeling like shit. My heart thundered in my chest like an angry beast as Ryan prodded us forward down the hall towards the living room.
Shit. I should’ve planned for something like this. Now that asshole’s going to find out where Katia is. A cold sweat broke out over the back of my neck as I realized the plastic motel key was still in my pocket, and the tag was engraved with the name of the motel. I hadn’t just shown Ryan a lack of planning, I’d basically led him right to Katia’s whereabouts.
Still, there was a chance Troy and I would be able to overpower him if the opportunity arose. I glanced at Troy and tried to form a plan. Come on, we’ve got to take him , I thought, staring deeply into Troy’s face. He only rolled his eyes in response.
“Now,” Ryan said. He rubbed his hands together and shoved Troy towards the living room. Troy groaned as he accidentally leaned on his injured ankle. “We’re going to have a little talk, boys.”
“We’re not doing shit.” I growled. “We’re getting the fuck out of here, and you’re going to prison!”
Ryan laughed. It was a cold, high-pitched sound. The hair on the back of my neck stood up as I watched his expression change from irritated to bemused. I turned on my heel and stomped towards him with my head down in defense, but as I approached him, Ryan pulled out a third gun.
“I have extras,” Ryan said. He winked at me.
The next few seconds were a blur. I dove towards Ryan, intending to grab him around the legs and tackle him to the ground, but before I could reach him, I heard the terrifying crack of his gun going off. For a moment, I held my breath, flinching and waiting for the burning pain. When I didn’t feel anything, I opened my eyes to see Troy sitting on the floor with his hands wrapped around his leg.
“Shit!” Troy groaned. “Shit, this fucking hurts! You fucking asshole!” Blood was pouring from the gunshot wound on his thigh as he glared at Ryan. “You fucking shot me!”
“You broke into my home,” Ryan said in a voice full of maddening calm. “You should be grateful that I didn’t shoot you in the head.”
“Fuck you,” I snarled out. “You’re not gonna get away with this, you shithead!”
Ryan aimed the gun at me. I held my breath as I watched him slowly lower his arm.
“Dante!” Troy yelled. I whirled around and saw that he was lying supine with his eyes closed. The formerly small pool of blood around him had nearly tripled in the past thirty seconds, and his face looked pale.
“Shit,” I muttered. “Fucking hell!”
I wanted more than anything to tackle Ryan to the ground, to tie him up, to maybe give him a few punches and kicks, and to call the cops and make sure that he’d be locked away for the rest of his life. But now I had to help Troy. He was bleeding out all over Ryan’s hallway, and he’d be dead unless I acted fast.
I got to my knees and pulled my T-shirt over my head, ripping the thin cotton into strips. As Troy groaned and moaned, I wrapped a couple of the strips around his thigh into a makeshift tourniquet. The blood was still
gushing, and I could tell that Ryan’s bullet had hit a major artery.
“I’m cold,” Troy said. “I’m fucking freezing right now.”
I put my hand on his forehead. His skin was chilled and clammy.
“That’s not good,” I said grimly. “Come on. I’ll try to get you patched up as best I can.”
Troy didn’t say anything as I picked him up, but as I carried him into the kitchen, he let out a low groan of pain. I could tell that he was still losing a lot of blood, and unless I acted quickly, he’d lose even more.
“I gotta get you stabilized,” I muttered under my breath. Behind me, I could hear Ryan moving around.
“You boys,” Ryan said. When I glanced over my shoulder, I saw that he was smirking.
“You gonna shoot me, too?” I asked. “Because I’d recommend you just fuckin’ do it and get it out of the way if that’s what you’re after.”