Keila (Dreamcatchers Romantic Suspense Series Book 2)

by Jamie Garrett

  Zero opened the door again, and a small man holding a bag walked into the room. He nodded at Zero and placed his bag on the floor, rolling up his sleeves. Keila’s eyes widened, but she forced herself to remain in place. Her hands began to shake behind her back. Zero had just taken it to a whole other level.

  “Believe me when I say this, Keila. I have no intention of arguing with you. You either give me what I want or I will extract it from you, piece by tiny piece. Be nice to the good doctor, or I shall have to bring in additional, shall we say, motivation.”

  As he spoke, Zero waved his hands with a flourish over the instruments laid out on a cloth by the visitor. There was even a screwdriver, and she wondered what the hell that was for.

  Nope, Keila, you really don’t want to know.

  Zero walked over to Payton’s bed and hefted her over his shoulder. Carrying her to the door, Zero chuckled and walked out of the room.

  “Have fun!”

  33

  The door clicked shut behind Zero, and the man introduced as the doctor peered at Keila over his glasses.

  “You are very pretty,” his deep voice rumbled in the room, and his eyes brightened as he started organizing his tools. Yep, that man wasn’t just ordinary crazy, he was extra special. Yay for her.

  Keila reached behind her and found the sharp spike again, that time wrapping her hand tightly around it and wiggling it back and forth.

  Break, damn you.

  “Yeah? You’re not too bad yourself.”

  Stall, delay, whatever you need to do to stay alive.

  “I would hate to have to cut that pretty face, but you can be sure I will enjoy it, and so the choice is yours.”

  Keila cocked her head to the side and shrugged, giving the object behind her a sharp tug with the motion. She’d met guys like that before, smooth and charming up front, but underneath completely fucked in the head. If he had anything in common with the last jerk she’d met like that, he’d love to talk shop.

  “Have you ever thought about the lives you take, Mr . . . ” She hoped he’d fill in the blank.

  “I often do,” he said, ignoring her hint for his last name. “Usually right when I’m taking it.”

  Keila rolled her eyes and twisted over, giving the piping another tug. That time she felt a little give and so she wiggled again and it fell into her waiting hand.

  “How poetic.”

  “Moments in life are all about context, my dear, lives allotted value and meaning based on the moment in time.”

  “And mine?” She felt for the pointy end of the object behind her back, and positioned it to poke out between the knuckles of her fisted hand.

  “Your value is being decided at this very moment. I hope you will see your destined path and comply with her demands.”

  Her, interesting. Keila filed that away to deal with later, when she’d escaped the hell hole. “Why should I? I’m going to die anyway, or so you all keep telling me.”

  The doctor smirked. “Are you one of those women who likes pleasure with your pain?”

  Perversion like no other flashed through his eyes, and Keila shut down. She’d been wrong; the back-and-forth banter was only feeding the demon in him. The man smiled, then slowly pulled on latex gloves, each making a snapping sound at his wrist. He turned, looked her over, and then picked up a scalpel from his tools. “Ready to talk about what I need now, Dear?”

  Keila’s muscles locked down as fear coursed through her, and she forced herself to relax, to stay loose. He leaned forward and ran a single gloved finger across her cheekbone in an almost intimate caress. Keila looked away and her hands, still held tightly behind her back, trembled when she saw the prominent bulge in his pants. The sick fuck was getting off on the thought of making her bleed!

  Ahh, there you are, Keila; welcome back.

  Keila’s fear was pushed away by the flood of anger. How many others had the man done that to, ones Keila hadn’t been able to get to? She’d make him pay for each and every cut. As he bent over her, eyes glowing with affection and scalpel in hand, she reared up and smashed her forehead into the doctor’s face. A grim sense of satisfaction ran through her at the sound of his nose crunching under the blow. Just a pity about all the blood in her hair.

  Could be worse; could be yours.

  The doctor reared back, dropping the scalpel, and before he could recover it, Keila jumped to her feet and rammed the sharp copper pipe end in her hand through the side of his neck. She didn’t have the time to worry about placement, but there were enough vital body parts in the human neck and she hoped she had hit something useful. His mouth dropped open in a silent scream of his own, but Keila didn’t wait around to see if he fell. Scooping up the scalpel and a few other of his more portable toys, she ran to the door.

  Grasping the scalpel in her hand, she opened the door and came face to face with the guard she’d caught a glimpse of earlier. Her eyes narrowed. He was one of Zero’s goons who had given Jason a beating. The shock on the man’s face quickly turned into a grin, and she wasn’t about to give him a chance to do the same to her. Keila dropped to her knees—hey, it had worked before—and stabbed the scalpel into the man’s thigh and pulled, carving a large gash into his leg. The man screamed, and she yanked the scalpel out even as he was falling, taking a grim satisfaction in the blood spurting from the wound. He fell to the ground and was still. Keila took a bet he was staying down and quickly frisked him, coming up with a handgun, swallowing hard as the scent of blood reached her nose. As she ran her hands over his still body, they trembled lightly again.

  Suck it up. You can lose it later when everyone’s safe.

  She tucked the gun into the back of her pants and ran. Hitting the landing at the top of the stairs, she peeked over the edge. It looked like three levels to the first floor, but who knew if they were empty? There was only one way to find out. Staying low and gripping the scalpel handle tightly in her hand, she made her way down the stairs. The second floor passed by, and all was quiet. Too damn quiet, but there were only two ways to go from there and she already knew nothing good was awaiting her back on the third floor. As her feet hit the first-floor landing, Keila heard voices coming from a hallway ahead of her, and she ducked inside the closest room. As the voices remained at the same volume and she didn’t hear any footsteps coming her way, Keila’s heart rate started to slow for what seemed like the first time in hours and she gulped in a few deep breaths. Calmer, she took a moment to check herself over for any injuries she hadn’t noticed in her rush, almost sighing out loud with relief when she noticed none. Reaching her feet, her panic grew again and Keila swore out loud. She may not be incapacitated herself, but at some point, she’d stepped in the blood of someone who was, and while she’d been sneaking through the house, she’d been leaving little bloody marks along the floor with every step.

  Fuck! She was so sick of that life.

  There was no way she was staying there in that room with a pretty red trail leading straight there. Keila quickly shed her shoes and then jogged barefoot down the hall, one hand on the gun at her waist. As she neared the room at the end of the hall, the voices got louder. The room itself was cast in shadows, all curtains down and no doubt enclosed in external shutters, too.

  “So she isn’t cooperating?”

  “No, ma’am. In fact, I think she’s given the good doctor a taste of his own medicine.”

  The woman laughed. “Well, well. I’m almost proud of her. I knew all she needed was the proper motivation.”

  “Indeed, ma’am,” Zero turned and looked into the hall, his eyes locking with hers. “In fact, I think it’s time to test that right now.”

  Zero turned and paced into the shadows. A sweat broke out over Keila’s neck and she flinched at a groaning sound as Zero hefted something in a dark corner over one shoulder.

  “Keila, Dear, I brought you a present.”

  Zero turned around, walked forward, and dropped a beaten and bound Jason at her feet.

  “Le
t’s see if she behaves now, Fireman.”

  34

  “No!” Jason tried to scream around the gag, but nothing more came out than a half-choked quiet moan. His eyes darted to Keila and tension left his body at the sight of her still alive. He almost panicked at the sight of blood spattering her pants, but she seemed steady. He hoped it wasn’t hers.

  Move, damn you. Turn and run.

  God, he wished he could talk. Any gratefulness at finding Keila was quickly leaving as she stood there, eyes locked on him, not moving. Jason looked left and caught sight of Meathead’s menacing grin as he walked toward her. He reminded Jason of a hungry predator stalking spellbound prey, and he struggled against his bonds. He kicked out at Meathead’s legs as he passed and the movement drew Keila’s eyes, bringing her around. Her eyes widened and her hand went to the small of her back, but she was too late. Meathead’s giant fist smashed into her temple and she fell to the ground.

  “That was strangely unsatisfying, Keila.” Meathead chuckled. “After all this, all the fight you put up, it’s a little sad that this is how you’ll go down.”

  Keila groaned, blinking hard as she tried to recalibrate from the punch. “Go to hell!”

  Meathead kicked away the small blade Keila had been holding when she fell, and pulled out a knife of his own. “Now, which one of you shall I kill first?”

  “Now, now,” the woman standing in the other corner of the room spoke up. Both Keila and Meathead looked over to her and Jason quickly laid his foot over the fallen scalpel still lying on the ground. He just needed to get it in his hand.

  “We still need to know where the other is hiding. She will not be as easy to find ourselves with the FBI man hiding her.”

  Come on!

  Jason inched the blade closer to his hand as Meathead knelt down in front of Keila, waving his own knife in her face.

  “If she won’t talk for the fireman, maybe she will for the girl.”

  The woman smiled and it chilled Jason to his bones. “Yes, an exchange of sorts. Only one gets to go free, and Keila, you get to choose.”

  Meathead walked to the door and whistled loudly down the hall. Jason tried desperately to catch Keila’s eye, but her expression had glazed over at the woman’s words and she was unresponsive. Jason watched as Keila seemed to almost curl in on herself, still lying on the floor and tugging her knees up to her chest.

  Hating himself even as he did it, he rolled away from her to position his back against the wall and started sawing at the ropes binding his wrists with the retrieved scalpel. The woman’s eyes shifted to him as he moved and Jason held his breath. Her eyes narrowed, but just as he was sure he’d been discovered, one of Meathead’s goons walked in with a tiny woman slung over his shoulder. Damn, she couldn’t be more than a buck twenty soaking wet, and barely legal. He watched as Keila’s eyes came to life again, just enough to follow Meathead’s progress across the room.

  “If you’re going to kill me, Moron, just get it over with.”

  Jason felt a rope behind him give way as he willed Keila to stop talking. He’d seen firsthand the aggression Meathead was capable of and he still had his other hand and his feet to deal with before he’d be any help.

  The woman spoke up again. “Oh, I have no intention of killing you, Keila. You’re far too useful. But I will be introducing you to things that are far worse than death.” She turned to Meathead. “You know what to do. I must leave and meet up with our partners. I’ll meet you and our cargo at our departure point.” The woman looked down at them, an expression of half disgust and half disdain on her face. “I’ll need the guards. I assume you can take care of one little girl on your own this time? Fireman isn’t in any position to interfere this time.”

  Meathead grinned. “Looking forward to it, ma’am.”

  The woman left the room. She really needed a nickname to go with Meathead. Evil Bitch From Hell had a nice ring to it. He tugged again behind his back and Jason felt the last string of the rope holding his wrists give way. Locking his muscles to prevent any sudden movements, he palmed the blade and looked up to track Meathead. The big man lumbered across the room and snatched up a barely conscious Payton by the hair, roughly hauling her upward.

  “Shall I hurt her instead, Keila? Your own life means so little, but how about those of others?” He dropped the girl to the floor and grabbed Keila roughly by the arm. “How about I hold you down and force you to watch?”

  “You talk too much, Zero.” Keila’s words were almost shaking as Meathead shook her. Fury colored Jason’s vision as Keila pushed back, struggling to free herself even as Meathead tried to slap her into submission.

  Good girl. Don’t you give up.

  Jason sat up silently, his body tensed for action. Keila lashed out again, kicking Meathead in his shin, and Jason moved. He slid the short but extremely sharp blade under the rope binding his ankles and in one swift jerk upward, he was free. He climbed to his feet and stood silently, grasping the short blade in his hand, and ran toward the man. His legs were still half numb and he stumbled when he lurched himself forward, making Meathead turn. He didn’t manage to get the blade up in time, but the steel-capped toe of his work boot connected with Meathead’s calf with a painful jolt and sent Meathead falling to one knee. The man dropped Keila unceremoniously to the floor and Jason had his attention. All of it.

  Locking his hand around the blade, Jason swung his fist upward toward Meathead’s face. Meathead stepped back quickly, but not before Jason managed to swipe the blade up his chest, cutting into his wife-beater tank and leaving a thin trail of blood seeping into the white fabric. Meathead’s lips pulled back and he let out an almost inhuman growl as he charged. He was quick but full of rage, and Jason was able to sidestep out of the way of his path. Meathead roared and shoved a side table over, sending it banging into a wall. He turned and focused on Jason, cracking his neck and punching a fist into his other palm. He reminded Jason of an angry bull, stamping and blowing hot air at a matador. Jason glanced over at Keila and saw her crawling on the floor over to where Payton lay crumpled up. He had to keep Meathead’s focus on himself. Jason took a couple of steps back. Time to wave the red cloak again.

  “Yep, I know, I know. You’re going to kill me. I’ve heard that so many times I’m beginning to think you’re as useless as Keila said you were.”

  Jason saw the flash of anger deep in the man’s eyes and Meathead’s jaw clenched. Yep, he’d definitely poked the bull where it hurt. He was such a big man that he shouldn’t have been able to move so quickly, but he did. Before Jason could dodge again, a fist slammed into his gut and then Meathead’s considerable bulk drove Jason into the floor. He could feel hot breath on his neck as Meathead whispered into his ear.

  “I didn’t kill you before because you served a purpose, but now you’re really beginning to piss me off!”

  For an instant their eyes met and Jason froze. The other man’s eyes were shining a clear blue in his strangely pale face, deep pools and intensely human. Jason thought for just a moment that he saw something reflected there: surprise, or maybe grief. But then it was gone and Meathead’s eyes narrowed as one of his giant hands wrapped around Jason’s neck. His throat seized and dark spots quickly formed around the edges of his vision. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Keila struggling to lift Payton, the other girl’s head slowly coming up on her own, but she was still breathtakingly vulnerable. They both were. As Meathead’s other hand went to wrap around Jason’s torso, forcing him to hold still, Jason did the only thing he could. He could still feel the weight of the scalpel resting in his hand and as his vision was blurring, Jason lifted his hand and thrust the blade upward. There was a minuscule moment in time where Jason felt resistance and then the blade slid into Meathead’s skin and embedded itself into his abdomen. Jason swore he could also hear the faint sound of tearing flesh, then felt tiny vibrations along his arm as the sharp edge scraped along ribs. Meathead’s mouth opened in silence and his eyes opened wide, shining brighter t
han Jason had ever seen for just a second, before the giant man collapsed on top of him.

  A heaving breath, a shudder, and then Zero was still.

  35

  Keila watched as the giant who had stalked her for years and had made her life hell wrapped his hands around the neck of the man she loved. Jason had been holding his own, even managed to get a slice in with her handy-dandy scalpel and so Keila had run to drag Payton out of the line of fire. Then Zero and Jason had collided and fallen, and Jason lay almost buried under the giant man.

  Keila’s mind raced as her eyes whipped around the darkened room searching for a weapon, anything. It wasn’t until she pushed to her feet to move that she felt the cold steel at her back and remembered the gun. Pulling it from under her shirt with shaking hands, she cocked the hammer and aimed, the gun shaking lightly in her hand. Shit. She took a tentative step forward, keeping herself between Payton and the homicidal maniac. How close would she have to get to ensure she only shot Zero, and not the man she loved?

  She raised the gun and aimed, about to send up a prayer and pull the trigger when Jason suddenly shifted under Zero. The bigger man jolted upward, arms shooting out, and then collapsed. A shuddering breath passed through him before he stopped moving entirely.

  Oh my God.

  The gun dropped from her hand and clattered loudly across the floor. Jason’s head moved from behind Zero’s bulk and his eyes locked with hers. In that second it was almost as if an entire lifetime of emotions passed between them. She was angry, so angry, that he’d risked himself and come after her, but also grateful beyond words, because if he hadn’t, Keila very much doubted she or Payton would be alive. Jason smiled gently at her and then groaned loudly.

  “A little help here? I swear this guy weighs three hundred pounds.” Jason shoved at Zero’s dead weight—Oh God, he was dead!—and shuffled out from under the body. Keila’s entire body broke out into new tremors at the realization. She tried to make her feet move, to walk over to Jason, but she could do nothing more than stand in place, tears streaming down her face. Jason rushed to her and warm arms wrapped around her body, pulling her close.