He raised the binoculars again and stared at the house. Minutes ticked by. Anxiety, fear for Mel and Harrison, tightened his body, caused blood to rush to his head.
Get it together, Maddox.
He couldn’t. Looking for roadside bombs…if he’d made a mistake, it would cost him his life. Repo jobs…again, going at it alone meant no one but him could be injured. What was happening tonight was different. This wasn’t about risking his life, but about saving his woman’s. He couldn’t make a mistake. There wouldn’t be any second chances. Once they entered the plantation house—
Dark orange glowed from the first floor of the house. He shifted the binoculars, followed the glow, watched as it grew and spread.
Instinct knocked any sense from him, tripped his heart, propelled his body. One thought remained. Melanie. Sheer willpower kept his knees from buckling as he ran toward the house. Terror destroyed any decency, any of his principles as his temper erupted, burning brighter than the fire engulfing the House of Archer.
Someone was going to die tonight, and it wouldn’t be his wife.
Chapter 20
The House of Archer, Bower, Georgia
Monday, 10:29 p.m. Eastern Daylight Saving Time
MEL PUFFED OUT a series of quick short breaths. She stood in front of the dresser mirror, ignored her red, puffy eye and focused on carefully removing the last of the tape from her other eyelid. Her eyes watered as several lashes stuck to the surgical tape and ripped from her sensitive skin. Relieved, she closed her eyes for the first time in hours, rubbed them, enjoyed the simplicity of blinking. Something she would never take for granted again. Same went for her freedom.
Grabbing the switchblade from the dresser, she quickly moved to the door. Pressed her ear to the wood. Although she thought Roderick had gone to the lower level again, she couldn’t be sure. As for Madeline, she suspected the woman was either bound or dead. Even if the woman, or Roderick, surprised her, the small blade could do serious damage—especially to the throat.
Confidence, the need to leave this place and make sure the couple paid for what they’d done, had her slowly turning the doorknob. She looked though the crack in the door, stared at the closed door of Harrison’s room. Her chest filled with vengeance as quick images of what had happened in Harrison’s room rushed through her mind. She’d thought she had known what it was like to hate, until she’d met Madeline. Determined to make good on the threats she’d made to the woman—after she freed Harrison—she quickly scanned the hallway, then hurried to Harrison’s room. She opened the door, swallowed a sob, and went to him.
“Harrison, it’s me, Mel. Honey, are you in there?”
His gaze was locked on the television. She removed the tape from his mouth. A small half-smile immediately tugged at his lips as he continued to gape at the violence on the screen.
No, no, no! Fear and panic set in, buzzed through her head, numbed her fingers, as she quickly removed the ropes around his arms and ankles. He still didn’t move. “Harrison. You have to get up.” She cut the duct tape from the pillow, then unwound it from his head. “You have to snap out of it. We’ve gotta get out of here before they come back.”
She couldn’t leave him, couldn’t carry him, but figured there was one way to snap him out of his catatonic state. He didn’t protest when she quickly slapped the tape back over his mouth, but kept his focus on the screen. Hands trembling, stomach twisting, she reached for the surgical tape holding his right lid in place. “I’m so sorry,” she said, then tore it off of him.
Harrison arched his neck and screamed. Even with the tape covering his mouth it pierced her ears, and she prayed to God Roderick or Madeline hadn’t heard him.
Breathing hard, he finally turned his head. Narrowed his one eye, then tore the tape from his mouth.
Tears filled her eyes. “Are you with me?” she asked, and touched his cheek.
He shoved her hand away. “You stupid bitch.”
She quickly jerked back, taking the knife with her.
“Harrison, get it together,” she warned him. “This is not you. It’s the drug. Remember Madeline. Remember what she did to you.”
Hardening his jaw, he ripped the tape from his other eye, taking some of his lashes with it. He blinked several times and tossed the tape aside. Sliding his legs to the side of the bed, he pushed off the mattress.
“Check yourself,” she said, trying desperately to keep from crying. She hated what they’d done to him. While she knew this wasn’t Harrison, but the drug, the brainwashing, it terrified her to think that they could lose him, that he could never be his old self again. The tears fell anyway. “You don’t want to hurt me. We’re friends. Think about Polina’s Paradise, Vlad, the airboat company, how I sneak you your favorite ice cream.”
His forehead wrinkled. Tears filled his eyes. His face reddened as he blinked them away. “I didn’t want her touching me.”
Sick inside, she hurt for him, for the pain and humiliation agonizing him. “I know, honey.” She approached him with caution. “Don’t think about that. Just think about getting out of here.” She touched his arm. When he flinched, she smoothed her palm along his bicep. “You got this, right? You’re with me?”
Without meeting her gaze, he nodded. She took his hand, and led him toward the door. “There’s at least one more person being held in the attic, possibly two.”
“Fuck ’em. We go.”
She’d been worried Roderick would continue to feed his drug to those left in the house, and was determined to take the others with them. They could end up like Noah, a fate no one deserved. After the way Harrison had reacted toward her, she decided she didn’t want to risk injury to herself or Harrison. The victims didn’t know them and could react violently, or call attention to them and bring Roderick running. She absolutely did not want that. After what she’d been through, she selfishly wanted to be home with Cash, and to let the police deal with Roderick and the other victims.
“Fine.” She turned, then jogged to the corner of the room. She picked up the wooden chair Madeline had forced her to sit in earlier, set it on its side, then stomped on the wooden legs. After breaking off two pieces, she went back to Harrison and handed them to him. “If we run into Roderick,” she explained.
“He’d better hope I don’t start swinging, because I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”
Harrison had never been prone to violence, had never talked about hurting anyone but Vlad. Even then, she knew he wouldn’t. This Harrison was foreign to her, and she prayed to God he’d return to normal once the drug was out of his system.
She reached for the doorknob. “Ready to sprint?”
He smacked the sticks against his hand.
She turned the knob, slowly cracked open the door, then held up a hand. “Do you smell that?” she asked, swearing she detected the faint odor of smoke.
Harrison pushed open the door, and stepped into the hallway. A light-gray haze rose up the stairs, reached for the ceilings and fogged the area. Her tender eyes burned. She rubbed them as indecision and guilt messed with her conscience. “We can’t leave the others,” she whispered. “If the house is on fire, they’ll die.”
“If they’ve been on the drug longer than me, longer than Noah was, they’re probably better off dead.” He started for the downstairs. “Like I said, fuck ’em.”
The old Harrison would have at least wrestled with the choice. While she’d been drugged, too, she’d only been given a small amount. Although she’d noticed a slight change in her mood after the dose Roderick had given her, most of her violent thoughts had been directed at one person: Madeline.
“You go, I’ll meet you outside,” she said, moving toward the attic staircase. “Watch out for Roderick.”
“Whatever. Go ahead and be stupid.”
Hurt, angry, she turned away before she said something she could regret later, and headed up the attic stairs. When she reached the first room, she readied the switchblade, then opened the door. A man lay bou
nd to the bed, his eyes taped open, his gaze on the TV.
****
Cash kicked in the front door. Weapon raised, he cautiously entered. From the opposite side of the house—the kitchen—Vlad came into view through the cloud of smoke and flames. The Russian nodded to the left. The parlor, according to the architectural blueprints. As Cash eased his way toward the room, he shielded his face from the heat and followed the path of the fire. It had splintered off to the stairs leading to the second floor, and had already traveled into the living room, maybe even the bedroom off that wing. Or maybe the fire had started there. He couldn’t tell and it didn’t matter.
“Here,” Vlad shouted, and pointed at the opened French doors of the parlor. “Corner.”
A man fitting Rodney’s description rocked and hugged himself. “You got this?” Cash called.
Vlad gave him a single nod, then rushed into the room. Although he wanted to make sure the Russian didn’t lose his life over Rodney, his priority was finding Mel. He wished he knew if Lola had entered the house yet. She could either cover Vlad or help him. Not willing to wait, he ran back toward the entrance, then rushed through the fire’s weakest point. He smacked a few flames off the forearm of his long-sleeved shirt, and kept moving.
The fire hadn’t extended to the kitchen—yet. He prayed time would remain on his side and the blueprints they’d studied were correct. If so, there would be a servants’ staircase near the butler’s pantry. Within seconds, he found it, took out his flashlight, then made his way up the stairs. His foot caught on a hole in one of the steps. He’d need to be careful. Breaking an ankle or falling through rotting wood was not an option. Not if he was going to get Mel out of there alive.
****
“Hey,” Mel said softly, and entered the room. “How you doin’, honey?”
“Who are you?” he asked, terror, paranoia clear in his tone.
She studied the vicious welts along the man’s face. “A victim just like you. I’m gonna get you out.”
“Roderick?”
She cut the rope around his right ankle. “I don’t know where he is. You’re Liam, right?”
The man nodded. “He said he would break me, fix me, then kill me.”
She began working on the rope around his right wrist. “You’re here, aren’t you?”
“He did fix me,” he continued as if he hadn’t heard her. “The voices I’ve been hearing for years…they’re gone.”
“That’s good, honey,” she said, trying to keep the man calm. Thank God Harrison hadn’t received the same amount of drugs as Liam. With the way he was talking, Roderick and Madeline might have damaged him permanently. “Do you think you’ll be able to walk?”
“But there’s one voice left.”
“We’ll get you to the hospital,” she said, trying to keep the man focused. “Just stay with me. Now, can you walk out of here?”
He dragged in a deep breath, and nodded again. “I-I think I can do it.”
“Good.” She shoved the rope from his right wrist, then edged around the bed. “Oh, my God,” she gasped, staring at Madeline’s lifeless body. Since she was in the process of freeing Liam, he couldn’t have killed Madeline. Which left Roderick. She didn’t care why he’d murdered her, she worried what Harrison might face when he made it to the lower level.
She turned away from Madeline, and went back to work on Liam’s ropes. “Did Roderick kill her?”
“Yes,” he said, wincing as he used his free hand to yank the duct tape from one of his eyes. “He choked her.”
“I can’t say that I’m upset. The woman was pure evil.” She cut through the last of his bindings. “Come on, there’s another man in the next room. Eliot. He came in with me,” she said as he slid off the bed.
She hurried for the door. Hot breath suddenly coated her neck. Her legs gave as fear cut her to the core, and Liam rammed her against the door. He gripped her wrist before she could reach back and slice him.
“Guess whose voice I hear?” he murmured, his tone no longer filled with fear, but with pure malice.
“I’m here to help you,” she said, hoping, praying that there was something inside this stranger that could still connect with reality.
“I don’t need your help.” He grabbed her by the hair, then slammed her head against the door. Pain shot through her skull. Stars burst in front of her eyes. “I need to kill,” he growled, his voice tinny as her head swam. She dropped to the floor. He took the knife from her hand. “The only reason I’m letting you live is because you freed me. As for the victim in the next room?”
He swung open the door. Through blurred vision, she watched his shoes move across the hardwood floor. Determined to try to stop him, or at least save herself before the house was engulfed in flames, she pushed to her knees. Fell, then tried again.
She made it to her feet. Dizziness engulfed her. She stumbled to the wall, toward the opened door, then jerked back just as the man snapped Eliot’s neck.
Horrified, she pressed herself against the wall. Stared at the steps leading to…what? Freedom? Fire?
Smoke filled the small alcove between the two attic rooms. She couldn’t think about the man and what he’d done. Self-preservation, fighting her way back to Cash was her sole focus. They needed each other. There were others who needed her, too. Daddy, Bobby…Harrison.
Harrison.
Panic and relief swept through her as Harrison reached the top step. Worried Liam would hurt him, she held a finger to her lips, then jerked her head toward the room where Madeline lay dead. Harrison moved past her, just as Liam exited Eliot’s room, cracking his knuckles. He glanced to her and held up the closed switchblade. “Thanks for the souvenir,” he said, then rushed down the staircase.
“Who the hell was that?” Harrison asked, coming up beside her and wrapping her arm around his shoulder.
“I’ll explain later. Go,” she said, hanging onto him. “How bad is the fire?”
“Spreading.” They made it to the second floor landing. “In here,” he said, dragging her into a bathroom, then slamming the door behind them.
The tub faucet sprayed against several towels. Harrison pulled out one, then placed it over her head. She shivered when the cold terrycloth hit her skin, but quickly wrapped it around her, then helped Harrison with his. “Thank you for coming back.”
He took another towel from the tub and draped it over her shoulders. “Keep this around you and cover your mouth.”
She touched his face. “Thank you,” she repeated, her tired eyes burning and filling with tears.
Harrison’s eyes misted with tears, too. “If you were dead, I wouldn’t be humiliated. But if you were dead because I didn’t have your back…I can’t live that way.”
She hugged him close and let out a sob of relief. The drug hadn’t destroyed him. They could make it. They could do this.
The door burst open, bouncing against the wall. Cash stood at the threshold, soot covering his face. His dark eyes, wild with fear, settled on her as he quickly closed the door. She never wanted to see that same fear in his eyes again. Ever. Unable to speak, to tell him what he meant to her, about the horrors they’d faced, she rushed into his arms.
Cash smoothed a hand over the cold wet towels coating her head and back, and held her tight. After tonight, boring would be their new lifestyle. His heart couldn’t take this kind of danger, not when it meant he could lose Mel. “I love you,” he said. “We have to go. Where’s the woman, Madeline?”
“Dead,” Mel said.
“Was anyone else working with her and Rodney?”
“Who?” Mel asked.
Smoke began to filter in from beneath the crack between the door and floor. “One of the people who were drugging you,” he said, hoping to God they hadn’t screwed up and Vlad was killing the wrong guy. “Dark hair, tall.”
“You mean, Roderick,” Harrison said. “He and Madeline kept us here.”
Roderick and Madeline were so close to Rodney and Adeline, he didn�
�t have to be a super-spy to figure out the twins were using fake names. “Sure, whatever. Let’s talk about it later.” He nodded to the tub. “Smart move with the towels. Do you have one for me?”
Harrison yanked one from the linen closet, then tossed it into the tub. “The main staircase is blocked. How’d you get up here?” he asked, soaking the towel.
“There’s a servants’ staircase down the hall. It’s narrow and in bad shape, but the fire hasn’t reached it yet. At least it hadn’t when I went through.” He chose to leave out that the staircase had no light and was completely made of wood. If the fire had spread, it’d burn instantly. “The stairs lead to the butler’s pantry near the kitchen. There’s an exit to the backyard from there.”
“There’s another man.” Mel fisted his shirt. “A victim, I think. He’s dangerous. I saw him kill a man.”
He looked to Harrison. “I saw him head down the attic steps, but don’t know where he is.”
“I’ve been in all the rooms on this level looking for you two.” Although he didn’t like the idea of a murderer on the loose, they needed out of the burning house. “We’ll worry about him later.”
Harrison handed him the wet towel. “Where are Lola and Vlad?”
“Haven’t seen Lola. Last I saw Vlad, it looked like he was killing Roderick.” Cash tested the doorknob for heat before turning it. “We’re wasting time. Cover your mouths. Mel, hang onto me. Harrison, don’t let go of Mel.”
He quickly wrapped the towel over his mouth and nose. After turning on the small flashlight he pulled from his pocket, he raised it, then rested his gun on his forearm. Adeline might be dead, but the man Mel and Harrison had been talking about could have doubled back.
Cash led them down the hall. Smoke surrounded them, grew thicker, darker. When they reached the panel to the servants’ staircase, he thanked God for giving them a break. The narrow space held little smoke, but it didn’t mean there couldn’t be a fiery surprise waiting for them at the bottom.
He wanted to race down the steps, but kept his pace, and theirs, slow. The wood was old, rotted or absent in some places. “Stay to the left. There’s a missing board two steps down,” he said, flashing the light ahead of them. When they reached the bottom without incident, Cash lightly touched the doorknob with the tips of his fingers. Still cool. He touched the door. Again, no heat.
Perfectly Toxic Page 33
