Claire sits in the passenger seat next to Fabian, staring out the window watching the arid Mexican landscape whiz by. She feels a little guilty for enjoying the luxurious leather comfort of her seat while Sloane rides in the back, bound and gagged. Claire placed pillows underneath Sloane’s head and knees in an attempt to make her ride more comfortable. They decided not to remove any of the tape, not even her mouth gag, until they were far enough away from Cabo. They couldn’t risk Sloane alerting someone.
Fabian has already stated that he could give a rat’s butt if Sloane stays bound like an animal for the duration of their trip. Claire understands his feelings of anger towards Sloane, but she’s hoping he’ll relax his stance a bit and allow her to move around more freely. She knows it’s going to take some female persuasion to get him to show his stepmother a modicum of humane compassion.
“Fabian, we’re more than forty miles away from Cabo. Don’t you think we can at least partially unbind Sloane?”
“She can rot back there for all I care.” Fabian says while never taking his eyes off the road.
Claire can tell he means it, but she’s not going to let this situation turn her into a coldhearted person. People do some awful things, but that doesn’t mean she has to stoop to their level. She starts to tell Fabian this, but decides he’ll just get pissed that she’s trying to lecture him on morality. Claire will have to handle this in her own way. Fabian will come around eventually and be reasonable, she figures.
“I’m going back there to check on her.”
“Don’t remove any of that tape, Claire.”
“Stop being so paranoid. She’s gotta eat and drink at some point. Or, do you plan on starving our prisoner?”
“Of course not,” he says with a brief glance her way.
“I’ll be back.” Claire unbuckles her seatbelt and makes her way to the living area. Sloane opens her eyes and frantically uses her head as a pointer while making noises.
Claire tries to interpret the woman’s body language. “What do you need?”
Sloane wriggles her lower body and bounces up and down as best she can on the couch. Her efforts to use body language are hindered by her immobile arms. However, she does manage to point a finger towards her crotch.
“Do you have to go to the bathroom?”
Sloane’s head bobs back and forth like a bobble doll.
Claire realizes they never thought about their captive having to use the toilet. It’s easy to forget those minor details when you’re in the thick of scheming a kidnapping. If she had thought about it before they left Cabo, she would have told Fabian to stop by the store so she could pick up some adult diapers. Oh well, too late now. She’ll have to handle this like any prison guard would.
“Alright, Sloane. Let’s make a deal with each other, okay?”
Sloane stops nodding and stares at her, waiting to hear what comes next.
“I’ll help you get up and go to the bathroom as long as you promise me you won’t cause any trouble. Agree?”
Sloane nods in agreement.
“Okay.” Claire helps Sloane up off the couch and escorts her a few feet to the bathroom. This takes longer than normal because Sloane can only move her feet by taking tiny steps. Claire opens the bathroom door and Sloane scuffles in and maneuvers herself into position in front of the toilet.
Claire pulls down Sloane’s leggings and undies, allowing her to sit down and do her business. Claire closes the bathroom door, leaving it open a smidge just in case. She hears what sounds like a sigh of relief as a stream of water jets into the toilet bowl.
Suddenly it hits Claire.
OMG! Do I have to wipe her cootie?
Sloane certainly can’t wipe it herself with her arms bound. Or can she? Claire decides to find out. “Are you done?”
Sloane indicates she is with a nod.
Claire grabs a handful of toilet tissue and sticks it in Sloane’s hand. “Here, I hope you can wipe yourself okay, because I sure don’t wanna do it.”
Sloane shoots Claire a pissy look. She manages to wipe herself, but drops the tissue on the floor.
Claire knows she’ll have to pick up the dirty tissue, but she can do that without touching it. She pulls Sloane’s clothes back up. “Okay, back out to the couch.”
Sloane shuffles back to the couch and plops down.
Claire takes a pair of scissors out of a cabinet. She sits next to Sloane. “Would you like me to remove the tape from your mouth?”
Sloane nods.
“We’ll have to make another deal then. Promise me that you won’t scream or cause a commotion. Fabian is in no mood to take any crap from you. I’m only doing this because we’ve gotta make sure you get some type of nourishment. Okay, ready?”
Sloane mumbles her approval.
Claire carefully cuts away the duct tape from both ends of Sloane’s head. She slowly peels the pieces away from her skin.
“You’re in big trouble, Claire. Big trouble.”
“Not even a thank you, huh?”
“Thanks. You’re still in a world of trouble.”
“I’m in no more trouble than you are. In fact, I bet you’re in much bigger trouble than me, Sloane.”
Sloane rolls her eyes. “I’m thirsty. Got any water?”
“Sure.” Claire fixes Sloane a glass of ice water from the mini fridge. She sticks a long straw in the glass and holds it close to Sloane’s mouth so she can drink.
“Thanks.” Sloane thirstily sips half a glass of water before taking a break.
“Had enough?”
“For now.”
The water seems to revitalize Sloane along with her self-serving ego. “You two think you’re really going to make it all the way back to New York in this thing without getting caught?”
“Yep. That’s exactly what we think. Why? Do you think you’re the only one that can come up with a good plan?”
“You got me there,” Sloane says wryly. “I thought I had it all figured out. But, you fooled me, Claire. Here I thought you were this sweet girl that wouldn’t hurt a fly. I guess you’ll do anything when a guy like Fabian pays you the slightest bit of attention.”
Claire knows Sloane is trying to get under her skin. “You underestimate me, Sloane.”
“I guess I did.”
“So, tell me, Sloane. Why did Nathan suddenly turn on his lifelong best friend? Fabian and I can’t figure that out.”
“Too bad.”
“Does he have some hidden agenda to outshine Gray?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea.”
“I bet you do.”
“Nope.”
“I see. So, you’re going to leave us floundering around trying to figure out why you two are being so evil.”
Sloane shifts her eyes to her unfinished water. “Tell you what, Claire. I’ll cooperate with you two while you’re holding me in this rolling half-ass camper. I don’t have a choice. But, I’m telling you right now that all bets are off when we get back to the city.”
“We’re not making any bets with you or Nathan. Fabian and I are controlling all the cards now.”
Sloane sits up straight with an air of unflagging confidence. “You hold nothing. I’ll have Gray hire the best attorney to represent me, and my side of things. Meanwhile, I’ll figure out how to explain things to Gray in a way that doesn’t incriminate myself.”
“So, basically you’ll keep spinning your lies hoping you’ll come out clean in all this, right?”
“You two made a big mistake kidnapping me for real. You just gave my fake story a whole lot of credibility. Who do you think everyone will believe?”
“I’m not worried about it,” Claire says smugly. “Fabian and I have an ace up our sleeve.”
“Really? And what would that be?”
“Do you really think I’m that gullible?”
“Hey Claire! I’m pulling over at this roadside taco place to get us some tacos to go,” Fabian barks from the front.
“Okay!”
> Claire feels the RV swerve and then come to a halt. Fabian grabs his wallet, keys and gets out.
Both women look out the window to see where they are.
“Claire, since we’re chums again, can you please take this god awful tape from around my arms too?”
“I can’t. Fabian might flip out.”
“I wanna be able to feed myself like a normal person.”
“You’re asking us to trust you. Guess what? We don’t.”
“I get that. Look around. Where am I going to go? I’m not asking for the world. Can you let me have a little bit of dignity?”
“We’ll see. Keep behaving like a normal human being and we’ll treat you like one.”
Sloane scans the counter. “Got any alcohol? I need a drink.”
“We only had time to stock up on water and soda. Play nice with us and maybe I’ll talk Fabian into getting you a bottle of liquor.”
“Brandy would be fabulous.”
More minutes tick away as the two women sit in awkward silence. Claire has no desire to keep trying to pry information out of Sloane. She’s not about to reveal anything on their end either. Neither woman is going to budge on that front. They’re at an impasse.
Fabian unlocks the back door and walks in with two plastic bags filled with authentic Mexican food. He drops the bags onto the small coffee table, glaring at Sloane for a few seconds. “I got us some fresh beef and chicken tacos with all the fixings.”
“I’m famished,” Claire says as she pulls tacos out of the bags and lays them on the table.
Fabian heads out the back door. “I’ll be right back with our drinks. Everyone’s getting cola.”
Sloane hungrily eyes the food as Claire grabs paper plates.
“Oh, alright. I’ll let you loose, Sloane. Only because I don’t wanna feed you like you’re some overgrown baby.”
“Thanks. I really appreciate this, Claire.”
Claire snips away the tape stuck to Sloane’s arms.
Sloane wastes no time diving into the tacos. “Oh my god, I’m so hungry. I barely ate anything this morning. Had no idea I was going to be snatched before eating lunch.”
“Help yourself,” Claire says with a tinge of sarcasm.
The women proceed to load their tacos up with salsa, guacamole and sour cream.
Fabian returns with the drinks and fixes himself a large plate. He sits on the other end of the couch next to Claire, keeping his head down as he eats. Claire thinks he’s purposely avoiding having to look at Sloane.
The three continue eating in silence for the next several minutes. Claire hopes that they can avoid an ugly scene and just get through this meal. She knows that Fabian is on the verge of wanting to strangle Sloane. All he needs is a reason to act out on his desire.
Sloane wipes her hands on a yellow paper napkin. “Claire, I have to say that I’m not a taco person, but those were the best I’ve ever had.”
“We agree on that at least,” Claire says before taking another bite of her second chicken stuffed taco.
“Fabian,” Sloane starts. “Nathan and I are going to take everything you have. You think capturing me is going to stop that? It’s not.”
Fabian stares out the RV window and continues eating.
“Gray loves me. Nathan loves me. They’re both in my corner, not yours. You think you and your little sweetheart here can out maneuver me, and a smart cookie like Nathan? Ha. You’re both out of your league. I’m going to make sure Gray has nothing more to do with you. You’re going to jail for this. Count on it.”
Claire can’t take anymore. “Shut up, Sloane, or I swear I’ll slap that tape back on you right now. This little sweetheart is perfectly willing to let you starve all the way back to New York. You can pee in your pants too.”
Sloane puts her hands up in surrender. “Okay. I’ll be quiet. I said what I wanted to say.”
Fabian crushes his empty plate and tosses it in the trash. “I’m ready to hit the road again. We’ll stop in Laz Paz for the night.” He goes back up front and buckles himself into his seat.
Claire feels like slapping Sloane around herself. She knows Fabian isn’t happy that she took the tape off. She better think of a way to keep Sloane subdued for the remainder of the trip, or this poor excuse for a trophy wife may not make it back in one piece.
*****
Fabian steers the RV into the long line of traffic that leads to the U.S. border. Depending on the amount of traffic, and what kind of issues border personnel encounter as they check documents and vehicles, the wait time can be up to three hours. Now that they are officially in line, there’s nothing they can do but try to relax until it’s their turn to come under scrutiny.
He’s way too jittery about the passports. Every person in this RV is using fake identification and fake passports. He was pretty confident while going into Mexico. Coming back to the States is another story. Any hint that you’re not who you say you are can earn you a trip to a federal detention center, facing harsh questioning. If one of them comes under suspicion, all three of them could be detained for an indefinite period of time.
They’d find out pretty quick that there’s a warrant on me. Hope these documents hold up or I’m toast.
The RV moves forward at a crawl. Traffic comes to a dead stop. It’s hot and crowded. Fabian can see there are lots of cars ahead of them. The border is way in the distance. He’s jumpy and needs to do something to calm his nerves—something that increases their odds of getting through without any problems.
Tequila!
Fabain unbuckles his seatbelt and eases his frame out of his seat. It feels good to stand up and stretch his body after sitting for so long. But, he didn’t get up just to stretch. There’s something he needs to do before they reach the border. Fabian strides purposely to the back of the RV as Claire follows his movements with her eyes. He is leaving her in the dark about what he’s going to do next.
Fabian opens up his suitcase and pulls out the souvenir he was bringing back—a bottle of primo Mexican tequila. He had stopped off at a small shop and bought the bottle of golden colored alcohol on his way back to the resort with the RV. The store owner claimed this brand was one of the best. He has to take the man’s word for it, there’s no way of knowing the quality until he drinks it. Anyway, he had stashed the bottle away in his things, planning to share a special drink with Claire in the near future. That was the original plan, anyway.
Now he has another use for the liquor. Fabian is glad he checked out the bottle before buying it to ensure there is no worm inside. He knows that worms are added mainly as a marketing gimmick. This wormless brand satisfies his taste for fine alcohol. This is real Mexican 102 proof tequila, not that diluted stuff sold in many U.S. stores.
I’m dying to taste this. Sucks that I can’t right now.
Fabian places the bottle on the counter and uses his strength to twist the cap off. The liquor has a mild agave fragrance that he finds enticing. He opens an overhead cabinet and grabs a large red plastic cup, one of many they brought along. Fabian pours until the cup is two-thirds full.
“That should be enough.”
He puts the cap back on and heads over to where Sloane is napping on the couch. He contemplates for a moment the best way to approach her. He sits the cup down and shakes Sloane until she stirs awake.
“Fabian. I’m napping. Leave me alone.” Sloan says groggily.
“No can do.”
Fabian grabs Sloane so fast she doesn’t have time to realize what’s happening. His left arm has her head in a vice grip. He grabs the cup with his free hand and forcefully presses it to Sloane’s lips.
“What are you doing?” Sloane manages to say, her face turning red.
Fabian responds by pouring tequila down her throat.
Sloane coughs and gags as the pure liquor runs straight down her gut.
Claire rushes over to his side. She’s obviously disturbed by his actions. “Fabian, what are you doing?”
“Buying us some
peace of mind.”
Fabian forces more tequila down Sloane’s throat, causing her to take large gulps in quick succession. He has her head at a downward angle, making his task that much easier.
“Why like this? You don’t have to use force,” Claire insists. “She would have drank it on her own.”
“I appreciate your input, Claire, but I’m doing this my way.”
Sloane coughs and sputters, her breath stinking of alcohol. “Stop it, Fabian. You’re hurting me.”
“Shut up and drink!”
The cup is now half empty and he needs her to drink it all. He forces more down her.
This bitch is not going to get us caught. Not if I can help it.
A rush of anger washes over him, dulling his senses and turning him into a primitive version of himself.
Claire places a firm hand on his shoulder. “Baby. You’re losing it. Stop. Please stop,” she implores.
Claire’s desperate pleas penetrate his brain, bringing him back to the world of acceptable behavior. He releases Sloane and watches her slump down between the couch and table.
Claire lifts up Sloane’s upper body using a lot of physical effort and gets her halfway back onto the couch. “Don’t just stand there staring, help me get her feet up!”
Fabian numbly helps Claire lay Sloane’s legs out. It is clear to both of them that Sloane is very intoxicated. She’s babbling nonsense and slurring her words badly.
Claire glares at Fabian. “Why the hell did you do that? Answer me!”
“Look, I don’t need you judging me right now, okay? I did what needed to be done.”
“Getting her drunk as a skunk? For what?”
“She won’t be causing us any trouble when we get to the border.”
“If you wanted to get her drunk all you had to do was serve her the damn alcohol. She had asked me for some and I told her we didn’t have any.”
Fugitive Millionaire Revenge (Fabian Cooper Book Two) Page 6
