“He’s reason enough. Colby, you don’t know that guy. I do. I infiltrated his ‘family.’ He knows it now, and he’s out for me. I can take care of myself, but it will be hard to protect you unless I keep you locked in a room.”
Colby’s spine stiffened. “What? I hope you’re not—”
“No. Fuck no. I’m not going to. I hope I didn’t do anything stupid tonight to jeopardize your safety.”
“Like what?”
“Like…Shit. Following you on your date.” The words tumbled out quickly, catching Colby by surprise. “I tried to stay away, but I failed. I wasn’t going to tell you anything. I wasn’t going to warn you. Damn it, I wanted to keep you uninvolved. It’s risky for me to be here now as it is. But I had to warn you. I had to.” It sounded as though he was trying to convince himself more than her. “I did something stupid, and you need to know.”
“You followed me.” It wasn’t a question, more a statement of disbelief. She stood up and wandered away in the dark, feeling her way around.
“Colby, I made a mistake.”
“A mistake. Am I the mistake? Was bringing the blonde bimbo home a mistake? Or are you just mad you had to admit to following me?”
In the dark, she could see he held his head in his hands, but not much more. He didn’t answer her. She didn’t know if she really wanted to know the answers to her questions, anyway.
“Mace, you were sloppy. Even I—what would you people call me—a civilian could see that. No wonder you got shot in the line of duty. Careless people get hurt.” She wanted to hurt him, hurt him badly like he hurt her. Her spiteful words didn’t make her feel any better. She felt worse.
“I…I’m going to bed.” She brushed past him up the dark stairs. At the top of the stairs, she paused. “You know your way out.”
14
Mace remained frozen in place while he listened to the click of her heels as she went down the hallway. Not surprisingly, a door slammed.
This hadn’t gone exactly as planned. Though what had since meeting her?
He sure fucked everything up tonight, and he couldn’t afford any more mistakes. She was right. He had been careless, and that same carelessness got him injured and almost cost him his career. He had to get his act together. His feelings for Colby were making him reckless, putting them both at risk.
The dead-bolt slid into place on the front door and then methodically he went around the first floor, making sure all the windows were secure. He would call an alarm company in the morning.
After fighting the temptation to run up the stairs and into her arms at least a half dozen times, he slipped out the back of the house a few minutes later, making sure the door was locked behind him.
He drove home, more determined than ever to extract himself from Colby’s life.
The only way Mace knew how to get Spinozi’s men away from her, short of killing them all—impossible, even for him—was to leave town. They would follow him, like good little goons do. And there was no doubt he was being followed. Mace knew they were waiting for the right moment to swoop in.
He also knew they wouldn’t make him a quick, easy hit. Spinozi wanted him to suffer.
He was a sitting duck if he stayed in his house. The hit proved they knew his real name and where he lived. He needed to get ghost. Now.
Back at the house, he threw a few things in his bag. He needed to get in touch with his boss for a new assignment.
He would no longer be Macen Jeffrey Walker, but somebody else. Joe Schmoe, if need be. It would be a few more years before Mace Walker showed up again, if ever.
Of course, he would warn Maxi before coming back from her trip. He'd get a real estate agency to sell the house for him. He, and even Maxi, could never live here again safely.
His biggest regret was not having the chance to see or speak to his sister. He would have to find a way to contact her in the future. When, and if, it was ever safe. With her new married name, Spinozi and his gang might not realize they were even related. And he’d like to keep it that way.
The home phone rang, jerking him out of his thoughts. Fuck! Why hadn’t he smashed them all yet?
When he reluctantly lifted the receiver to his ear, he immediately heard uncontrollable sobbing on the other end. This wasn’t Colby just upset with him about tonight. Christ. He broke out in a cold sweat and sank to the floor, clutching the phone so tightly, his knuckles turned white.
A gruff voice ordered, “Say something, you fuckin’ bitch!” The sobbing became louder. “Damn you, say something!”
Mace heard a loud slap followed by silence. Then finally, murmured curses in the background.
“Son of a bitch,” Mace muttered. “Son of a bitch! You fucking hurt her and—”
Suddenly, laughter came over the line, making Mace’s spine stiffen. “What? What will you do, call the cops, Rico? I mean Macen Walker. Your name isn’t Rico, is it?”
He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He would never tell his secrets. Never. Even if it meant death. But Colby hadn’t taken the oath. She didn’t deserve to die. “Where are you?” Mace ground out.
“Aah. In a pretty yellow kitchen. One freshly painted. It’s a shame this house will light up like fireworks soon, taking your little lover girl. Is she good, Rico? In bed, I mean.”
Mace slammed down the phone. He grabbed his gun and tucked it into the back of his waistband as he ran out of the house.
Mace’s truck skidded to a stop nearly a block away from the house. It hadn’t even been an hour since he’d been there earlier. Not one freaking hour! He should have stayed.
No, he should have stayed away.
He scrambled out of the truck cab and moved quickly down the sidewalk, sticking close to the shrubs, his gun in hand. Just as he reached the corner of her driveway and the shrubbery, he stopped and took a deep breath. Slow down and think. He couldn’t just rush in; he’d get them both killed.
Spinozi’s men wanted him. That was the game. Colby was only the bait. He had to get in there without getting her killed. They would think nothing of taking her life. Hell, they might do it just for the sport of it. He stepped away from the shrubs into the dark driveway, determined to remain undetected until the last second.
The explosive red hot flash blinded him, the impact knocking him off his feet. Landing hard on his back, he found himself unable to breathe, no oxygen left in his lungs. His gun had flown out of his hand and skidded down the pavement.
He lay there for a second, gasping, fighting for breath. Finally, he pushed himself to his knees. Using both hands on the ground for leverage, he unfolded his body until he stood. But seeing the devastation, he struggled to keep his feet underneath him.
The house was gone. Totally fucking gone. Flames shot up from the rubble. Only burning splinters of wood remained of the house Colby had loved so much.
The house was completely gone. Colby.
He sank to his knees, digging his fingers into his hair and pulling, trying to relieve the agony clawing the inside of his head. He screamed, no sound escaping, until he ran out of air and dropped his head into his hands.
The heat from the burning timbers reminded him of what he had to do. Who he was.
Damn them. Damn them all to mighty hell. They were going to die. All of them. Every single one of those motherfuckers.
Hands grabbed him from behind—on his arms, around his neck. He tried to jerk away. He looked for his gun. Outnumbered, his struggling got him nowhere. Then someone kicked him in the head from behind.
The world went black.
Moaning. Louder now. Mace shook his head to clear it but doing so only brought a shard of pain.
He struggled to open his swollen eyes. Through the slits, he could barely see the metal chair he was tied to. Warm liquid oozed down his forehead, trickling into his eye. His tongue seemed twice its normal size, and his mouth felt stuffed with cotton.
Blood-soaked cotton.
Doing a mental body check, the intense pain in his side made
him wonder if they broke his ribs. The sting at the back of his head and his stiff hair most likely meant he had a nasty gash. His face was dripping with blood, some of it crusting already, and he couldn’t even feel one side. Maybe it was better that way. He tried to lick his dry, cracked lips, but it was impossible. His tongue was cut, probably from his own teeth.
He scoped out the area as best as he could with his limited vision. Whoever had him here sat behind him talking quietly. Mace tried to make out what they were saying through the ringing in his right ear. He turned his head slightly, not enough to draw attention to him, so his good ear could pick up the conversation.
“He’ll be here soon. He wants us to wait until he’s here. He wants to watch the man who killed his brother die.”
“We better be gettin’ that damn prize money.”
“We’ll get it. He’s good for it.”
The loud moan again. He turned his head a fraction toward the sound and damned his vision when it blurred for a moment.
Fuck.
Colby. She was alive.
All the oxygen left him, but his relief was short-lived. They were in a bad, bad situation. One he doubted he could get them out of. They were fucked. Fucked was putting it mildly, knowing Spinozi’s men.
She sat bound to another metal chair across, but at an angle, from him. Duct tape sealed her mouth. Her face, distorted on one side from swelling, was already turning purple. Her head hung, like it was too much effort for her to lift it. That or she was blessedly unconscious. He could only hope.
“Colby!” he yelled before he could stop himself. He just had to know if she was…all right. Stupid but true.
Her head lifted slightly and, as she noticed him, her hollowed eyes widened in surprise and then grief.
Mace heard a scuffle of feet before a deep voice right behind him said, “Shut up!”
He managed to get “Fuck you” out before everything went black again when something hard was rudely introduced to the back of his head.
The world cleared again, somewhat, when a hand slapped his face. And slapped again.
“Wake up! Wake up, you worthless piece of shit!”
The throbbing in his head pounded even harder as he opened his eyes and the lights temporarily blinded him. “Christ,” he moaned.
“No one asked you to speak. At least, not until you’re spoken to.” The man himself stood in front of him. Shit couldn’t get any deeper than right at that moment. “Who you working for?” Spinozi asked.
“No one.”
“You’re gonna be loyal to the end, are you? We’ll see about that.” Spinozi nodded to the goons behind Mace. “Cut off his left pant leg. I want to see the damage my brother did before this asshole killed him.”
One of Mace’s captors took a knife to his jeans, exposing his mangled thigh.
“I’m impressed you still have use of this leg, Macen Walker. We might have to do something about that. Does it hurt?”
Mace said nothing; instead he glanced over at Colby. Now fully conscious, she watched what was going on with wide eyes. She looked very, very afraid. He didn’t blame her. He wasn’t feeling too brave himself.
He was going to die, and he knew it. It didn’t matter what he said tonight, he would still die. The only thing which could change was how long it would take. He had a feeling they might take their time.
Spinozi put the heel of his shoe on Mace’s exposed thigh and twisted it back and forth, as if grinding out a cigarette. He gritted his teeth, which caused more pain in his swollen jaw. He would not react. He would not.
He. Would. Not…ever…give that satisfaction to the bastard.
Mace struggled to keep eye contact with Colby. Even with the distance between them, he couldn’t mistake the tears trickling from the corners of her eyes. She tried to say something, but the tape muffled her voice. She yanked at her ties, but it was useless. Even if she could get loose, what could she do?
Not satisfied with Mace’s response, Spinozi cursed and stopped. He turned to study Colby. Realizing his worst fear, Mace knew Spinozi would use her against him. The fat bastard would use her to break him down. Mace would rather have the bastard torture him forever than touch her even once.
“I’m assuming she was more beautiful before my men got to her, hmm? It’s a shame to mess up a pretty face like hers,” Spinozi said with a slight upturn to his mouth. He stepped over to Colby but made sure he didn’t block Mace’s view. Spinozi ran a finger down her cheek, smearing her fresh tears with the dried blood already there. “Look, Walker, she’s crying for you.” He laughed, causing Colby to jerk against her bindings. “She’s got a nice little body, doesn’t she? Would you mind sharing her with my men?”
Mace tensed and ground out, “You fucking touch her and—”
Spinozi and his men laughed. The laughter boomed through the large, empty warehouse, echoing back to him and emphasizing what he already knew. He’d fucked up. He should have kept his mouth shut. What he’d said had been stupid. He couldn’t follow through on any threats. He could do absolutely nothing but watch whatever they did to Colby. Now he actually wished she was dead. She’d be better off dead than tortured.
Spinozi grabbed Colby’s blouse and ripped it open, the buttons flying off in different directions. The laughter quickly died around him. His men knew what would be next. He held out his hand for the knife. When he got it, he sliced open her bra, exposing her breasts. A thin line of blood appeared where the knife nicked her sternum. By accident? Nothing Spinozi did was an accident.
Colby squeezed her eyes closed. Her humiliation overwhelmed him, only frustrating him more.
“How would it be to watch your lover being fucked by six men in front of you, huh?” Spinozi wore a wicked grin. “You just might enjoy it. Both of you. Is she sweet, Walker? Have you tasted her honey?”
The crime boss walked behind Colby and placed a hand on her shoulder. A gun appeared in the other, and he pressed it to her temple. “Maybe you’d rather see her brains splattered all over you.” Spinozi bent down and whispered something into her ear. The duct tape covering her mouth puffed out then sucked in as her breathing became faster, frantic.
Mace tugged against the ropes binding his hands until he felt a trickle of blood run down his fingers. Useless. “Damn you! If you’re going to kill her, just do it. She knows nothing; she’s got nothing to do with this! Don’t torture her for nothing!”
Spinozi lifted a dark eyebrow. “Are you begging for her life?”
“You want me, you’ve got me. Torture me if you’re going to torture anybody.”
“There’s no if about it.”
“So torture me, you shit-for-brains, not her!”
Mace’s attempt to piss Spinozi off seemed to work. The man left Colby to step closer to him, jamming the gun against Mace’s lips. “Watch your mouth, before I blow it right off your face!”
“Do it,” he goaded between pressed lips.
“It’s not going to be that easy, Walker. No way. I’m not in a rush, and you and your girlfriend have nowhere else to go.”
Colby squeezed her eyes tight. Any moment, she would wake up and this would all be a bad nightmare. She had seen scenes like this in the movies. This does not happen in real life.
This could not be happening.
But it was.
She opened her eyes when she heard a noise she didn’t even want to guess at. Bile threatened to rise up into her throat.
The half-dozen men behind Mace kept staring her bare breasts. The sick, wicked grins on their faces didn’t change when they went back to watching Mace suffer. She couldn’t figure out which excited them more. But her exposed chest was the least of her worries.
Mace was in serious trouble. They were both going to die. But not without suffering first. She was sure of it. How the hell could she help him or herself? Even if she could free herself, she had no idea where they were. A garage or warehouse, maybe. It could be in another state or even another country. She didn’t know how l
ong she’d been passed out before waking up tied to this damn metal chair.
Colby watched the violence continue against Mace through a haze. She didn’t know how long it lasted. An hour. Two? It could have been twenty minutes, for all she knew.
She lost track of time. Pinning her eyes shut against the horror, she slowly rocked back and forth, as far as the bindings would allow.
Too many questions went unanswered. The only answers Spinozi got for his needling were the slight sounds of pain occasionally slipping from Mace’s lips. They beat him, stabbed him, sliced and burned. Again and again. No man could take this, she thought wildly. Mace either refused to, or could not, answer the questions they shouted at him.
She knew, even if he answered, they wouldn’t give them mercy, anyway. She wasn’t stupid.
“Now for the best part of the night,” Spinozi announced with a great flourish. “Untie his right hand. Leave the other bound.”
She heard a scuffle and then a groan as one of Mace’s hands became free. “Take it,” Spinozi ordered. “Take it!”
Colby didn’t want to look, but she couldn’t help it. Mace, his face swollen almost beyond recognition, slowly reached out to take the handgun.
Shoot the bastard, Mace! Shoot that fat bastard!
“Point it at her.”
“Fuck you.” The words were no more than a pained whisper. His voice unrecognizable. Not much remained of the man she knew. And loved.
Spinozi put a knife to his ear and drew blood. “Point it at her. It’s easier to kill her than to watch me slice off her luscious body parts while she’s awake. Isn’t it, Rico?”
Mace raised the gun, his hand shaking. The six men stationed behind him had drawn their guns too. Half pointed at her, half at Mace. They were doomed either way.
“Shoot her. Shoot her now!”
Mace stuck the gun to his own temple instead. He wouldn’t do that. It had to be a ploy.
“Stupid man,” Spinozi growled. He circled Mace. “Will you leave her alone with us, then? Pull the damn trigger, you coward. Do it!”
Damaged Page 16
