by J. E. Taylor
“You never said it,” he said.
“Neither did you,” she responded leaving them at a stalemate.
What the fuck am I doing? He picked his clothes up and left the room. When he got to the door, her voice stopped him.
“Ty?”
He paused and looked at her standing wrapped in a towel, her hair tousled and her cheeks flushed and he realized there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for her.
“I’m hungry. Is there any way I can get a steak in here?” She sheepishly looked down at her feet.
At least she didn’t ask to let her go. He smiled and nodded. “I can do that, but only if you let me join you.”
She hesitated and tilted her head a little. “Okay.”
“It may take a little while. I have to take care of this,” he said, showing her his bloody arm.
She nodded and he closed the door behind him.
He had some other things to attend to first, like getting rid of the body in the warehouse incinerator. Ty slipped into his jeans in the hall and walked back to the room where Angela was. He opened the door and she looked up from her vantage point on the floor, the knife clutched in her hand.
Her swollen red eyes found his. “You killed her,” she said.
Ty nodded and said nothing.
Her lower lip quivered.
“Put the knife down.”
She stared at him then lowered her eyes to the knife.
“You almost killed me.”
Ty inhaled. “Put the knife down,” he repeated, closing the door behind him.
She looked around the room and her eyes landed on Lisa’s broken body.
“Do you think it hurts?”
“Do I think what hurts?”
“Dying.”
He bit his lip. Death in this place was always accompanied by screams of pain and terror. Lisa was the first casualty of theirs that died a quick and painless death. “Yes. Now put the knife down.”
Angela stabbed the point of the knife to her throat and threw herself forward sending the blade through her neck on purpose.
Ty watched with his back pressed against the door. She gasped and gagged, bucked and twisted on the floor, grasping the knife and yanking it sideways tearing her throat further as death rode her slowly into oblivion.
I need to get out of here.
He backed from the room, rattled by her suicide. He headed into the bathroom off the kitchen, splashing water in his face and studying his reflection in the mirror. Haunted blue eyes stared back. “Get your shit together,” he snapped at his reflection.
He shook the image of Angela out of his mind and opened the medicine cabinet in search of a bandage to cover the cut on his arm. He found a box of butterfly Band-Aids, antibiotic ointment as well as a good sized bandage that he could cover the entire cut with. When he was finished dressing the wound, he picked up the phone and called Frank.
“In a meeting,” Frank said.
“I need to take the trash out,” Ty said.
“That’s fine,” he said. “The cleaning crew isn’t expected for another hour, does that give you enough time?”
“No problem, I’ll be out of their way by then,” Ty replied. That meant he had less than an hour to get this done.
Ty grabbed a dozen dark green garbage bags and a pair of plastic gloves and walked into the utility room. Looking around, he decided on the quickest tool to do what he needed and grabbed the chainsaw. He also grabbed a dolly to transport the full bags to the incinerator. There was always a risk of being seen and the timing needed to be coordinated.
He covered the bed with plastic and went about the gruesome job of cutting the girls up and placing their parts into the bags, and onto the dolly. Once he was done, he took off his clothes, stuffed them into a bag and switched on the overhead sprinklers to clean the blood off his body and the concrete floors.
A thick trail of blood poured down the drain in the floor and he almost gagged, closing his eyes for a second to get his stomach in check.
I need to get Jessica out of here.
He rubbed his arms, face and chest with disinfectant and stood with his head tilted back as the spray cascaded down on him. When the water ran clear, he switched the sprinklers off, stripped the bed of the plastic tarp and left the room.
He pushed the dolly toward the elevator, stopping long enough to wipe himself with a clean towel, change the soaked dressing on his arm and put on a jumpsuit and a hat that would label him as a member of the janitorial crew if he were seen. As he walked out of the room, he grabbed a key off the wall. He stood in front of the retinal scan and waited for the elevator doors to open, once inside he put the key in and pressed the button leading to the basement of the warehouse.
He got to the incinerator without incident and heaved the bags in. He closed the door and they melted in the heat. He didn’t wait to see the rest. They would be ashes in a matter of minutes. He shook off the images and walked back to the elevator, turning his focus back to Jessica.
Now that both Angela and Lisa were gone, Frank would be on his ass regarding Jessica. He closed his eyes, leaning against the back of the elevator. Mike would only satisfy him for so long and he had to figure out a way to keep his stepbrother’s paws off his girl. A small smile formed on his lips. His girl. What a fucked up thought. His eyes opened with the whoosh of the elevator door opening.
He had a steak dinner to deliver.
He changed into another pair of jeans and pulled out a black button up dress shirt, slipped on socks and sneakers and placed a call.
He put the phone down and looked around. He didn’t want to bring her to the room with the couch. That would be in poor taste. He walked into the kitchen and shook his head; this wouldn’t do either, too many sharp objects for her to get a hold of.
He grabbed the card table, two chairs and a tablecloth he found in one of the kitchen drawers along with a couple wine glasses and headed to an empty room. He set the table and stepped back, scanning his work. Something was missing and he turned, heading to the kitchen, rifling through all the drawers and cabinets, but came up empty.
How could he not have candles here? he thought and grabbed the ice bucket, filling it and placing it on the table in the room.
He glanced at his watch and headed up to the ground floor. Frank’s eyebrows rose when he stuck his head in the office.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Yep.” Ty smiled and headed to the garage. “Be back in a flash,” he said and started whistling as he hopped in the car.
True to his word, he was back within fifteen minutes, carrying a large take-out bag and a bottle of wine. Ty set the plates out on the table, put the bottle in the ice bucket and went to get her. He swung in the control room, dropped the CD in, turned it on low and flipped the switch to feed it into the room.
He hesitated and looked at the screens. She sat on the bed with the towel around her. He chuckled. While he would love to have dinner with her only wearing a towel, he was sure she wouldn’t appreciate that at all. He turned and looked at the selection of dresses in her size and picked his favorite, reaching down and grabbing a pair of sandals that matched.
His gaze landed on Mike’s monitor. He wanted the bastard to know he won the game, that she belonged to him now and flipped the live feed from the mock dining room to his monitor. “This’ll kill him.”
Ty left the control room to collect his date.
Chapter 31
Mike looked up at the screen and saw a beautifully decorated table with two plates, wine glasses and silverware. A bottle opener lay on the table next to the ice bucket, which held a bottle of zinfandel. The plates were covered with warmers you would find in an upscale hotel and music played softly in the background.
When Ty escorted Jessica into the room, Mike stopped breathing. She was wearing a floor length white gown with a slit that came up to her hip. She had her hair up in a clip and she was stunning.
Ty held her chair, pushed her into the table,
and pulled the warmer off in a grand gesture. She looked down taking in the delectable meal on the plate before her and then smiled at him.
She fucking smiled at him!
He opened the wine and filled their glasses. When he put the bottle back in the ice bucket, he looked into the camera. He slowly smiled directly at Mike.
Mike approached the monitor and punched it with everything he had, shattering it to pieces. The image shattered with it. He paced the room, oblivious to his cut hand and broken wrist.
“How could she?”
Chapter 32
Jessica stood when he walked in the room. He held an amazing dress, sandals and a hair clip, offering them to her.
“Your dinner awaits,” he said waving toward the door in a grand spectacle.
“I’m not Cinderella and you’re certainly not Prince Charming,” Jessica replied and tentatively took the dress and the hair clip and headed to the bathroom to put it on. The white silk fabric caressed her skin and she smoothed it over her abdomen, loving the way it felt on her skin, reminding her of his hands. She brushed her long hair and twisted it into a bun, putting the clip in to hold it in place.
When she walked into the room, Ty dropped one of the shoes and fumbled with the other one.
Even though she was amused by his reaction, she didn’t give any hint of it, her face remained stoic and she glanced in the mirror, appraising herself, pleased with what she saw. She shrugged and turned back to Ty reaching for the shoes.
He brought them over and she held onto his arm with one hand while slipping them on. She did the once over in the mirror a second time and then turned back to him. “It’s a beautiful dress,” she said.
“Mhm.” He escorted her out of the room glancing her way and his bangs fell into his eyes. He ran his hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face and smiled down at her.
Everything seemed to switch to slow motion as he walked her into the room, sat her down and pushed her seat in like a true gentleman. She was thrilled when he pulled the warmer off the plate and she saw the filet mignon with béarnaise sauce drizzled over it along with the bright steamed vegetables. Her mouth watered and she smiled up at him.
She put the linen napkin on her lap and picked up her fork and knife as he sat down. She studied the sharp steak knife.
He picked up his wine glass and froze midway to his mouth, his eyes glued to the blade in her hand. A stab of fear went through him. Please don’t, he thought and held his breath.
“You trust me with this?” she asked, holding the steak knife and hearing his thoughts as if he spoke aloud.
He said nothing and forced himself to bring the wine to his lips and take a sip. His heart pounded in his chest as she twirled the knife in her fingers.
She smiled and began to cut her steak.
Ty let out a long silent breath, watched her take a bite, and close her eyes.
“This is amazing,” she said, opening her eyes. She couldn’t remember the last time she had a steak. “How long have I been here?” she asked between bites.
He took a bite and didn’t say anything.
“How long?”
“Over five months.”
Jessica stared, her next bite halfway to her mouth. She thought about that as she continued to eat. “Really?” She took another bite.
He nodded and ate the rest of the meal in silence, watching her. When she finished, she picked up the wine and drained her glass. She held it out for more. He filled the glass again and sat back.
“Thank you,” she said. “For all of this.” She waved at the table.
He nodded and watched her drain her wine glass. She held it out again. He filled her glass a third time and polished off the rest of the bottle into his glass.
“I’m not getting out of here, am I?”
He didn’t answer her.
“I have kids,” she said.
“I know, two of them. A girl and a boy.”
Something flashed in Jessica’s face and she picked up her knife, pointing it at him. “I will kill you if you go near them,” she hissed but didn’t make a move.
“I wouldn’t do that,” he answered. “Going after kids is wrong.”
Jessica slowly put down the knife. At least he has some scruples.
“But your husband,” Ty said and raised his glass.
Jessica paused and looked at Ty. “My kids need their father.”
“Do you love him?”
“I’ve been with him for almost twenty years; he’s the father of my children.”
“That’s not what I asked. Do you love him?”
“Of course,” she answered. “But my kids need him.”
“Fair enough.”
She finished the glass of wine, put it down and picked up her water glass, the effects of the alcohol warming her hands and cheeks.
“I’m not getting out of here, am I?” she asked again.
Ty shrugged a little and looked down at the table.
“What happened?” she said and pointed at his scar, changing the subject.
He put his hand up to his face self-consciously and then looked at her.
He slipped his shoes off and stood, crossing to her side of the table extending his hand. She stared between his hand and his eyes before she took it. He helped her up and pushed the volume control on the small remote. Music encompassed the room.
He pulled her close and slowly swayed with her in his arms. Ty rested his cheek on the top of her head and she nestled into his shoulder.
* * * *
Having her in his arms felt right and the same thoughts he had earlier echoed in his mind, especially now that Frank had no one else to play with.
I have to get her out of here.
She looked up at him. “What happened?” she asked again, tracing the scar on his cheek.
“My stepfather,” he answered. “He used to beat the crap out of me on a regular basis. One day, I dropped his beer bottle when I was bringing it to him and he decided to teach me a lesson.”
“Jesus,” Jessica whispered. “Where was your mother?”
He stiffened and looked at her. “She was dead. My stepfather killed her. Made it look like an accident.”
Jessica put her cheek back on his chest.
He pulled the hairclip out, tossed it toward the table and ran his hand absently through her hair as they danced. He kissed the top of her head and looked at the mirrored wall.
She had her eyes closed against his chest. Dressed in white with her long dark hair falling over her shoulders, he thought she looked like an angel.
“Did he hit your brothers too?” She gently rubbed her fingers back and forth on his shirt.
Ty squeezed her closer and continued. “I did my best to protect Chris. Pissed the bastard off whenever I stepped between him and my brother.” He inhaled. “The other one, Frank, he’s my stepbrother. The sun rose and set on him. We were the old man’s punching bags; he never laid a hand on his own kids.” He stopped and pulled away from her. He hadn’t ever talked about his past and didn’t really want to talk about it now.
He took her hand and walked her back to her room. He reached out and touched her face. “You really look beautiful tonight,” he said and gently kissed her. He pulled away and left her alone for the night.
* * * *
She turned toward the mirrored wall. With her hair down, she looked even better in the dress. She twirled around, smiling and looking at herself until she saw him in the corner.
Frank walked out of the bathroom glaring at her. “What the hell have you done to him?”
“Nothing,” she answered and stepped back as he advanced.
He pointed at her. “He’ll be going on a little trip soon, and when he does…” He looked her up and down. “When he does, you and I are going to settle a score.”
He slipped out of the room as quickly as he appeared.
Chapter 33
After Ty cleaned up the room, he found himself standing in front of her door. He
turned away, taking a step toward the control room and stopped, turning back. He leaned with his hands on the doorjamb, fighting the urge to enter and just take her, take her in bed and take her out of there.
He reached for the doorknob and hesitated. He wanted to be with her tonight and that urge won out. He stepped in the room, gently closing the door behind him.
He met her guarded gaze, blowing the air out of his lungs. Silent, he crossed the room like a lion cornering his prey, taking her face in his hands and kissing her.
She put her hands on his wrists and pulled away. “Don’t,” she whispered. She didn’t know if Frank was watching or not and she didn’t want him to see her melt in Ty’s arms.
“I want you,” Ty said in that low sexy voice, slowly moving the straps of the dress off her shoulders, kissing her neck. The dress drifted to the floor and he ran his hands down her arms.
“Please don’t.”
He knelt down, slipping her heels off one foot after the other and ran his hand up the outside of her legs, over her hips and behind her back as he stood. He leaned in to kiss her.
“He’s watching,” she whispered.
Ty stopped and his brow creased. “Who?”
She leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Frank.”
Ty stood up straight and looked in the glass; his sharp blue eyes stared back, daring the image beyond. “He better not be.” The warning in his tone clear. He inhaled and brought his gaze back to her fawn colored eyes. He waited for a minute and then leaned in to kiss her again.
“Ty, no,” she said and stepped back. She looked up at the cameras and crossed her arms over her bare breasts.
“No one’s watching, Jess,” he said.
“Then turn the cameras off,” she whispered.
He hung his head and took a deep breath. “No,” he said and stepped toward her. She backed into the glass but this time when he kissed her, she kissed back, melting into him.
Her fingers trembled as she navigated the buttons of his shirt, opening it and placing her hand on his bare chest, feeling the strong beat of his heart against her skin.
