He pulls his hand from his coat, revealing a black revolver. He lifts it so that it's level with my face and sliding back the hammer until it clicks. "Now, we can do this the easy way, and you can drive us out of town—or I can shoot you, and I'll drive us out of town. I'd prefer not to do that, it can be such a mess, especially on these nice white leather seats. I can assure you that you will not die from being shot—I'll put it in a non-life-threatening area of your body—but it is going to hurt like hell. Which would you prefer?"
I know leaving an area where there are people that can hear me scream, and certainly hear a gunshot, is a really bad idea. How much can I trust that this guy won't shoot me in the head, dump my body, and still contact Alex for some type of ransom? Alex would pay it without blinking an eye, and wouldn't have a clue that I was already dead.
I reverse the vehicle, and pull out of the alley and onto the main street.
"You've made the right choice," the man says.
"So, how much money are you going to swindle from my husband in exchange for my return?"
He chuckles. "There are some things more valuable than money, Mrs. Stone."
A cold wave rushes through me. I'm very familiar with this way of thinking—it lead me to nearly kill John a couple of months earlier.
Revenge.
"You do realize that if you kill me, my husband will not stop searching until he finds you—"
"And will kill me. Yes, yes—"
"Not before he takes his time torturing you."
"Well, I will keep that in mind, Mrs. Stone. Thank you. Turn left at the next road, please."
I turn onto the dirt road and drive until the man tells me to stop. After putting the vehicle in park, I stare out the front window. Who is this guy, and how did he know Alex and I were in Telluride? Only a few people had been told about the trip. I glance into the rearview mirror. Another vehicle is coming down the road. If I wait for it to get closer to us, I can jump out, and get help. I'll have to be really quick.
But the white van pulls up behind us, and stops. My heart drops into my stomach, and I can feel the seriousness of what is likely to happen weigh on me like a boulder tethered to my leg, pulling me under until I drown.
"Okay, if you would be so kind as to turn off the engine, and step out of the vehicle. You should know, the men in the van behind us are also armed, and will shoot you if they even think you are attempting to escape."
I step from the SUV and follow the man to the back of the vehicle. The other two men, both wearing the same uniform as my abductor, are waiting for us, guns in hand, but hanging at their sides.
The first man holds up my cell phone, and hits the speed dial for Alex, and puts it on speakerphone. He points his gun at me. "Not one word out of you, or your husband will have to listen to you die." So far, he is the only one of the three men in black that speaks, and apparently runs the show.
The line rings a couple of times and then Alex answers. "Hey, baby."
"Hello, sweetheart," the ringleader replies.
"Who is this? Where's my wife?"
One of the other men shoves the barrel of his gun into my side. He is about as wide as he is tall, with muscles as hard as stone. The third man is the mirror opposite of the muscle man—tall and lanky, and even with a ski mask on, I can see his deep set eyes.
Ringleader glances at me. "Well, Mr. Stone, your wife is here with me."
"If you hurt her, I will hunt you down and kill you."
"I have no doubt. I assure you, your wife is fine—for now."
"What do you want?" Anger rumbles through Alex's voice. My stomach flips like a cat on catnip, knowing Alex will blame himself for anything that happens to me.
Ringleader takes a deep breath. "I'll have to get back to you on that, since I'm sure there is a trace being run on this phone. A man such as yourself would surely have a GPS tracker on his wife's cell phone. The problem is, my associates and I are not interested in seeing you, and I am certainly not ready to part company with your beautiful bride. So, I'm going to leave her phone here where you can find it, but I'll be calling you back to discuss our terms for returning you her to you. Now, it's going to be a number you won't recognize, so be sure to answer it. I do hate leaving voicemail messages. Is all this clear, Mr. Stone?"
"How do I know you have her and that she’s unharmed?"
Ringleader glances at me, and smiles. "Go ahead and speak, Mrs. Stone."
"Alex, I'm not hurt. I'm outside of town on a dirt—"
Pain explodes and radiates across my face. I cry out and fall to my knees. Muscle Man is standing over me, his hand curled into a fist.
"Kylie!" Alex yells. I want to tell him I'm okay, by Muscle Man shoves the barrel of the gun against my cheek.
"We'll talk soon, Mr. Stone. Enjoy the rest of your day." Ringleader ends the call, walks over to me, and leans over. "That was not a smart move, Mrs. Stone." He walks back to the SUV, and tosses my cell phone onto the driver's seat.
Muscle Man grabs my arm, and yanks me up and onto my feet. Dragging me to the back of the van, he grunts at Skinny Guy to open the doors, and then throws me inside. I scramble to get out, kicking my legs, and hoping to make contact with any body part I can. Skinny Guy backs up, his eyes wide, just staring at me. I push against his chest, and send him sprawling to the ground.
Run! Get to the SUV!
The driver's door of the Mercedes is still open. I just have to get to it and jump inside. I can lock the doors, start the engine, and get the hell out of here. It has four-wheel drive—I'll go through the field, if that's the only way to get away from these men.
There's a whizzing sound behind me. Some type of dart hits me in the shoulder and another in my hamstring. An electric volt radiates through my body. Every muscle constricts, and I fall to the ground.
Get up! Get up!
The open car door is not far away. I can see it, but I'll be damned if my body will move toward it. I try to get on my hands and knees and crawl, but even if my extremities could move, I'm not sure I could fight through the pain.
The snow crunches under boots. I can't lift my head, so I'm not sure if the feet next to my head belong to Muscle Man or Skinny Guy. Finally, the pain stops, and my muscles relax. A zip tie goes around my wrists and ankles. Visions flash through my head of the last time I was zip tied. John tied me in the same fashion, and nearly beat me to death. I was powerless to do anything to get away. He left me naked, lying on the cold tile, bleeding from the deep gashes he made in my back.
Muscle Man lifts me to my feet, and hands a taser gun to Skinny Guy before tossing me over his shoulder like a sack of flour. Ringleader circles behind him, grasps my hair, and lifts my head so I can see him.
"Things will only get worse for you, if you can't follow simple directions, Mrs. Stone." He sticks a syringe in my bicep. I want to scream at him to take a flying leap off the highest peak, but no sound comes from my mouth. My eyelids grow heavy, and the world goes dark.
Seven
Rough material scratches against my cheek. I force open my eyes. Light nearly blinds me and sets off a jackhammer in my skull. I squeeze my eyes shut again. Slowly, one at a time, I open them and survey my surroundings. I'm lying on a mattress on the floor in a room I don't recognize.
Where the hell am I?
Even with the sunlight streaming in through the narrow windows, the walls look dull and dingy. The air is musty, as if the house has been closed up for a while. And it's freezing in here. My coat and shoes have been taken from me while I was unconscious. A thin blanket lays across my legs, providing little to no warmth.
Sitting up is not as easy as it should be. A cement block sits on my shoulders, replacing my head. And now the incessant pounding has moved to the base of my skull, pain stabbing the backs of my eyes. I scoot back on the mattress so I can rest my back against the wall.
The room is empty except for the mattress I'm on and a chair next to the door where Skinny Guy is sitting. He raps his knuckles on the do
or, his gaze locked onto me. The door opens, and the other two men walk in.
"Mrs. Stone, you're awake at long last," Ringleader says, squatting next to me. "Did you enjoy your nap?"
"You drugged me?" I ask, rubbing the back of my neck to relieve the throbbing.
"Such an ugly term to use—“He squishes his nose as if smelling something offensive, and shakes his head. “Very negative. I prefer to think of it as enabling you to sleep, through the enhancement of modern medicine."
I really hate this guy. I hope when Alex finds me, Jake kills the man. All three of them, actually. I'm so tired of being a pawn and a victim. "Where are my shoes? And my coat?"
Ringleader sighs. "I'm afraid your predilection to try to escape has forced me to take them as insurance against future attempts to leave our humble abode."
"And exactly how long do you plan to keep me here?"
"Well, that depends on your new husband. Congratulations, by the way, on your recent nuptials. I'm terribly sorry to put a damper on your honeymoon." He stands, and brushes the dirt from his knees. "Make yourself comfortable, Mrs. Stone. This will be your home for the foreseeable future. If you need anything, our associate will be here to assist you."
So, they're extorting Alex. Married less than a week, and I'm already being used as bait for ransom. I guess I always knew in the back of my mind that this was a possibility, but I never gave it serious consideration. Alex has Jake and Thomas for security—why would I ever worry about being kidnapped?
All those times I gave Alex grief when he would insist I have protection with me at all time come rushing back to me in a tidal wave of regret. If I had Jake with me when I went into town, maybe this wouldn't have happened. There is a better than average chance that I would be snuggling with Alex in front of the fire, or making love against the gorgeous mountain backdrop.
What are the chances either of those things will ever happen again? I probably shouldn't hold my breath. While it's true my kidnappers haven't allowed me to see their faces, or any other identifying marks on their bodies, such as tattoos or scars, I know the chances of them releasing me once they receive the money are between slim and none.
Once they have what they want, I will become a liability—one that has to be taken care of.
And the best way to do that is to kill me.
* * *
I jolt awake, my gaze darts around the room, and I try to reorient to my surroundings. Shadows fall across the floor, and the sun is no longer shining in through the windows. It must be afternoon. I hadn't meant to fall asleep, but the remnants of whatever drug Ringleader shot me up with must have been in my system, and sucked me into slumber.
Sleep is a double-edged sword. I need the rest to maintain my strength and my mental faculties, but it also leaves me vulnerable to three men who have already committed a couple of crimes, and probably wouldn't care about adding a couple of more to their list. Especially if they just plan on killing me.
The bedroom door swings open, and for the first time I realize Skinny Guy is not in his chair. He walks in with a tray in his hands, kicking the door closed behind him.
Kneeling on the floor beside the mattress, he slides the tray over to me. A sandwich of some sort sits in the center of the plate. Next to it is a glass of water. "Here, eat. It's just a peanut butter sandwich, but it's better than nothing."
I stare at him. No way in hell am I eating or drinking anything they give me. They've already drugged me once. I need to keep a clear a head. Muddying up my brain will not help me. I need to watch for any opportunity to get the hell out of here. If they are planning on killing me, my only chance for survival is to escape.
He inches the plate forward. When I don't make a move toward taking the sandwich, he sighs heavily and stands. "Have it your way." He walks back toward the door and drops down into the chair.
Out of the three of them, Skinny Guy seems to be the youngest. The way he moves his lanky arms and legs seems as if he would much rather be out skateboarding than watching after a woman he has just helped kidnap. His voice still has a tinge of apprehension and uncertainty the other two men don't have. Where the other two are seasoned criminals, I'd bet good money Skinny Guy is new to this type of activity.
If there is a weak link in this chain, Skinny Guy is that link. Now to figure out how exactly to exploit it so I can get out of here and back to Alex.
* * *
"I fell in love with you the first day I met you."
White lights twinkle, and provide a soft glow under the tent. Alex gazes at me with those incredibly gorgeous blue eyes. This is the most surreal moment of my life, standing in front of him in a wedding dress, minutes before the clock strikes midnight ushering in a new year.
And we're exchanging our wedding vows.
I take a long, deep breath, and savor the moment. This has never been my dream—I would never have allowed myself to even consider a man like Alex falling in love with me, let alone sharing the rest of his life with me.
"You were pissed at me," he says, which garners chuckles and titters from the guests. "Left me standing on the side of the road. All I could think at the time was 'There goes the woman who could turn my world upside down—how do I find her and convince her to give me a chance?'"
His words swirl around me like a warm summer breeze.
"We've had our share of challenges—ups and downs, highs and lows—term it anyway you want, but one thing has never changed. The way I feel about you. Our relationship has been less than conventional. I think our courtship lasted about two days before you moved in with me."
A giggle bubbles up from my chest and escapes. Talk about the understatement of the year. Once Alex decided he wanted a long-term, meaningful relationship, he blazed ahead without reservation.
"Every experience with you has been new to me. I daydream about you—apparently with a wide grin on my face, if I'm to believe the rumors. The dreams vary, but you are always the star. I get an overwhelming sense of euphoria just thinking about what we can accomplish together. Home. Family. Truthfully, I never wanted either—until the day you entered my life. Then there was an unquenchable thirst—an ache deep inside my soul—to have them with you."
He gently tugs on my hands, and places them against his chest. His heart beats so strong and steady against my palms. "And here we are, embarking on a journey I was never prepared to take. Nothing will stand in the way of having a home and a family with you."
Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath. When he opens them, his smile reaches up to them. "You are no longer my dream—you are my reality."
* * *
My eyes pop open. It's dark. I reach next to me for Alex, but feel only the cold mattress against my hand. Sorrow and apprehension splash over me like a bucket of ice water. I'm not at home in bed with Alex, celebrating our new lives together. Less than a week after saying "I do", I wonder how soon "until death do us part" will become a horrible reality.
I pull the threadbare blanket up around my shoulders and listen to the sounds of the house. Skinny Guy snores softly, his head leaning against the door. The chair is now in front of the door instead of beside it as it had been during the day. Escape prevention.
The dream of my wedding is a reminder that I need to remain alert. Alex's vows during our wedding solidified my future. I have to get back to him. He is my world. My life. And I will not give up on his dream for our future.
* * *
Morning sunlight spills into the room. My eyes open to mere slivers. The blanket is pulled over my head, but I can still see through it well enough to make out what's going on. Skinny Guy needs to think I'm asleep so I can watch him unguarded. There has to be something I can use against him. Some weakness I can utilize to my advantage. I need to be smart about this. I can probably fair well against him physically, but if I did manage to beat him in a fight, there's no way for me to come out on top of any altercation with Muscle Man, or even Ring Leader. I'm no match for them.
Skinny Guy yawns
and stretches his arms over his head, pulls the chair away from the door, and knocks a knuckle against it a couple of times. "Hey, unlock the door. I gotta take a piss." Dropping his head forward, he rubs the back of his neck.
There's a click and the door opens. Muscle Man steps inside the room and nods towards me. "She sleeping?"
Skinny Guy glances over his shoulder at me, and shrugs. "Don't know…guess so." He steps into the hall and disappears. Muscle Man doesn't bother closing the door. I'm not a threat to get past him.
After a few minutes, Skinny Guy comes back in with two plates of food.
"What's that?" Muscle Man asks.
"Breakfast."
Muscle Man shakes his head.
"What?"
"She has food." Muscle Man points to the still untouched sandwich on the plate next to me.
"That's from yesterday," the kid says.
"Yeah, so? She can eat that or nothing." Muscle Man takes the extra plate of food from Skinny Guy and walks out. Closing the door, Skinny Guy slumps into his chair, and digs into the plate of food.
The scent of bacon fills the room. My stomach growls in protest. Probably a good thing Muscle Man is such a dick. If he had left the breakfast plate for me, it'd be damned near impossible not to dig into the bacon, laced with drugs or not.
But the exchange had not been a complete waste. I learned something very valuable. Buried deep inside the scrawny kid's body was a heart. And that's what I need to appeal to.
* * *
Sunlight brightens the room, but there are no shadows. I have no real measure of time, and I'm wishing I had paid better attention in my college environmental studies class when we discussed how to tell time by looking at the sun. I'm guessing it's midday, but the hours seem to last forever when hunger and sleep are in a constant battle for my attention.
The door to the room opens, and Ringleader walks in followed by Muscle Man. Ringleader squats next to me, his foot hitting the plate of food I haven't touched. He sighs heavily. "You really should eat something, Mrs. Stone. You'll want your strength for when you resume your honeymoon."
Vindication: Of Demons & Stones: Tri-Stone Trilogy, Book Three Page 4
