“Why are you lying?” he asked, his eyes boring into me.
From his expression, I knew he had evidence. “I’m not,” I insisted.
“Yes, you are. Both the dock workman and the woman at the rental agency have identified you from your picture. Do you need enticement to tell the truth?” He released my hand and leaned back in his chair.
“Wait…wait. Please. It was me.”
He put his hands on my knees. “Why?”
“I wanted to save the girls,” I said, knowing if I didn’t confess he’d go after someone innocent. Also, I knew Sara Jones would die before the day ended.
His eyes narrowed. “You were involved with the incident that occurred with our shipment?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Who did you give the information to?”
“What?” I asked, perplexed.
“What group, person, did you tell about the shipment?”
“No one.”
“A woman who was approximately your height and build was seen on the ship. Are you telling me that was you?” he asked, cocking his eyebrows.
“Yes.”
“Sara, you don’t even know how to shoot a gun or use a knife. That wasn’t you. Who was it? Lindsey? Did she help you carry-out your plan? Some of the crewmembers showed signs identical to the spider victims. Did you recruit Brett? Is that why he left Billings?”
I stroked his arm. “No, Conner, I did it alone.”
“Okay, let’s say you did it by yourself,” he said in a tone of utter disbelief. “How did you accomplish that task?”
“I used spiders.”
The bearded man jumped out of his seat and backed away.
“Do you have any spiders with you?” Conner asked.
“No. I used them all on the ship. I only had a dozen. They die after they’ve bitten someone.”
“Don,” Conner said, looking at the bearded man. “Relax. If she had spiders with her she would have already used them.” His eyes moved to me. “Go on. Where did you get these spiders?”
“At the mall.”
Conner shook his head. “They don’t sell them there.”
“I didn’t buy them. I met a guy that gave them to me.”
“A stranger?”
“No. I had made arrangements with Brett to get me some spiders. He had the guy deliver them to me.”
“What’s the name of this guy?”
I shrugged me shoulders. “Don’t know.”
“How were you able to identify him?”
“He wore a baseball cap with Yankees on it and large sunglasses.”
“Describe him.”
“Short, maybe five-foot-two, chunky with a belly that hung over his pants, and he walked with a cane.”
Conner put his elbow on the armrest, bent his arm, and rested his forehead on his fingertips. “How did you manage not to get shot during your rescuing efforts?”
“Several of the men were bitten before they saw me. They attempted to use their guns, so I had to fight with them until the venom took effect.”
Conner’s eyes opened wider. “You fought with some men?”
I nodded.
He stroked my cheek. “Sara, you’re going to have to do better than that.”
A banging sound, loud talking, and commotion by the door caused me to look up to see what was going on. Conner also turned his attention that direction.
30
Revenge
Caden, a tall handsome man with tawny brown hair, walked toward us and was flanked by two large, muscular men. He resembled his father, Cameron. Caden wore a dark, pinstriped suit. The men accompanying him also wore suits. They weren’t prepared for spiders.
“I knew you’d have a hard time interrogating her,” he said, his eyes were hot, and his jaw was rigid.
Conner rose to his feet. “I’m getting answers.”
“Why is she untied?”
“Caden,” Conner moved away from me, nodded his head to the side, and motioned for Caden to follow. They stepped fifteen feet away.
My eyes fixed on them as I tried to listen.
“...don’t need to wear one,” Caden huffed.
“…spiders…rescue,” Conner said and briefly glanced at me. Then he led Caden toward the rear entrance.
Occasionally their voices became loud. I couldn’t make out anything they were saying. My eyes flitted back and forth between Conner’s men as I wondered which one had tipped off Caden that my arms were no longer bound.
As much as I didn’t want to contact Brett, I knew it was time and this might be my only opportunity. I carefully began to pull my disk with the GPS button out of my pocket when I saw Caden rushing toward me. Before I had a chance to push it, he snatched it from my hand.
He looked it over. “What the hell is this?”
Conner came over to us. He didn’t look at me. Still, I could tell from his expression he was irritated. He took the gadget from Caden. “I noticed it earlier in her purse. It’s just a harmless noise maker.” He clicked the buttons several times on both sides, and then he smashed it on the floor.
“Is she carrying anything else?” Caden asked.
“No.”
“I’m going to make sure.” Caden began to feel my blouse.
“I’ll handle this.” Conner ran his hands down over my clothing. “She doesn’t have anything.” He stared at Caden. “Remember the agreement,” he said, sounding firm. Then he headed toward the entrance.
Agreement, maybe Conner didn’t lie about that.
Caden glared at me with an implacable hatred that sent chills through my body. “Tie her up.”
After my arms were secured to the chair, he began, “It’s time for the truth.”
“I’ve told the truth.”
“It’s your fault my father is dead. You bitch!” He slapped me across my face.
Closing my eyes, I clamped my teeth together in a determined effort not to scream. I didn’t want to give him that satisfaction.
“You’re going to wish you were dead before I’m through,” he growled, digging his fingers into my shoulders and squeezing. “Open those fucking eyes.”
I kept them tightly closed and felt his next blow, slamming the side of my head hard with his fist, thrusting my body. The chair tilted. Someone grabbed it and pushed it back into an upright position. Slowly, I raised my eyelids, feeling dizzy as my ears rang, my temples pounded, and tears streamed down my face. I still refused to utter a sound.
I watched his lips moving without hearing a word. He removed his suit coat, revealing a holster strapped around his shirt with the handle of an automatic sticking out just below his left armpit. He loosened his tie and rolled up his sleeves while the ringing in my ears continued. He shook me as his lips flapped up and down.
“What?” I mumbled. I felt a twitching in my head, like blood rushing through my veins. Voices gradually came into focus. I heard men speculating about my ability to hear.
“She’s faking it,” Caden said. He leaned closer to me, his face only six inches away, wearing a look of complete contempt. “Besides Brett, who else helped you kill my father?”
“No one.”
With a smirk on his face, he sat back in his chair. “She needs persuasion,” he said to Don.
The equipment made a sizzling sound as Don pressed the lever.
The pain shot through my body again. I couldn’t prevent a scream from leaving my throat. My hands swung wildly out of control. My feet pounded against the chair as it jerked around. My head flopped back and forth. My tongue swelled.
When it finally stopped, I was incapable of holding my head up; it tipped to the side. My eyesight was blurry. I knew the hair on my hands was stiff again, prepared to inflict venom in anyone that touched them. My wet hair draped down in front of my face. I closed my eyes, hoping the nightmare would end. Someone pulled my hair away from my face.
As my sight returned I saw Caden smiling.
“Why are you making this so hard on yourself?” he aske
d sarcastically.
I briefly looked down while that strange sensation encompassed my body. I felt my strength being rejuvenated.
“Sara?” he hissed, his cold voice cut through the air.
“Wha,” I murmured, squinting, pretending not to understand as the hair on my hands subsided.
“Who helped you?” he asked through gritted teeth.
“Please…kill me now. I…I can’t feel my body anymore,” I said, softly, attempting to sound pathetic.
“If that was only an option.” His eyes darkened with rage as they bore into mine. “I’d like nothing more than to see you retching in pain and blood oozing from a bullet hole in your chest. Or, drenching you with gasoline, sticking a match, and watching you squirm while the flames engulfed every inch of your body. Only charred remains would be left just like my father. Conner wouldn’t even be able to recognize his whore.” His upper lip twisted in a sneer. “But first, I’d still need answers.”
Gunfire erupted outside the building. Caden bolted to his feet and drew his pistol.
“Mr. Crussett,” a man yelled as a black van crashed through the double doors and sent shattered wood and debris through the building. I caught a glimpse of the men around me slipping on ski masks and gloves while Caden headed toward the stacked crates.
The van stopped twenty feet from me. The doors flew open. Out sprang three people, two men and one woman, wearing black bodysuits with their faces hidden behind ski masks, carrying weapons. I knew Brett was one of the men.
The sound of gunfire echoed through the structure. Instinctively, I tried to duck down. It was impossible with the restraints holding me in place.
I found it hard to determine who was who since almost everyone wore a black bodysuit and their faces were covered. I studied the attire of three people from the van closely and concluded their suits were made of heavier material. They were darker than those worn by Conner and his men. Also, their hands were uncovered.
“Sara, you’ll be okay,” Brett said as he ran past me shooting.
Then I recognized Father when I saw him climbing up the wall and Lindsey with her long, light-brown hair sticking out below her ski mask.
I watched as a dozen of Conner’s men came charging from all directions. Lindsey shot a man carrying an unlit blowtorch. He stumbled, dropping it. She grabbed it and swung it into his hip. He moaned. She struck him again. I heard a cracking sound as he landed on the floor, motionless. She moved swiftly to the side and clambered up the wall.
Looking toward the entrance, I noticed Conner dodging around the men as he rushed toward me. He was fifteen feet away when he buckled over with blood squirting from his leg. A tall, lanky man with his face hidden behind a mask hurried to Conner’s side and helped him stand.
“Get Sara out of here,” Conner yelled.
The lanky man sprinted to me, cut the leather straps around my arms and legs, and yanked me up. A bullet struck him in the arm. He gasped. Another slug hit him below his neck. Blood poured from his wounds as he collapsed to the floor. My eyes moved to the rows of crates, the direction of the attack. I saw Caden holding a pistol with the barrel aimed at me. I dropped to my knees. The bullet ripped through one of the table legs, splitting it in half. The metal box containing the electrical equipment crashed to the floor, sending sparks flying around it.
A loud blast came from the back of the room. I turned to see a caldron lying on its side, flames engulfing the wall, and a large shattered container surrounded by shrapnel. Thick smoke rose to the ceiling as my eyes searched for Father. Next to the entrance, I spotted a man shooting from the rafters and assumed it was him.
I grabbed the gun lying next to the dead, lanky man, and turned back to the crates. I couldn’t see Caden anywhere. Staying low, I scanned the room looking for him. Then I saw a man, carrying a blowtorch with the flame projecting ten feet, approaching Lindsey.
“Behind you,” I shouted, raising the pistol and pointing it toward him.
She leapt to the side as I pulled the trigger. The bullet missed him. Lindsey turned and shot the man in his head. His body smacked against the floor along with the lit blowtorch. The flame consumed him within seconds.
Someone knocked the gun out of my hand. It clanked onto the concrete. I turned and saw Caden with a smirk on his face.
“Conner’s going to be disappointed you didn’t survive this battle,” he said with his pistol against my chest. “So much for his agreement.”
With the needles protruding, I grabbed Caden’s neck as I felt the searing pain of the bullet penetrating my body. My knees folded under me. I fell, holding onto his neck.
Caden freed himself from my grip while I caught a glimpse of Father charging toward me. With blood drizzling from Caden’s neck, he sprinted away, heading to the crates.
“It won’t hurt long,” Father said, bending down. He threw his arms around me.
“I’ll take care of him,” Brett said from behind Father.
“No need. He’s been poisoned,” I said, but Brett was out of earshot, running toward Caden.
“We’re almost through,” Father said and went to the van.
Lying on the floor, I watched Brett tackle his prey, knocking the gun out of Caden’s hand. Caden crawled toward his weapon. Brett grabbed his legs and yanked him back while Caden struggled to free himself. Brett released his hold and Caden jumped up only to be met with a fierce blow to his face. Brett flipped him to the floor. Caden staggered to his feet then crumpled in a heap. Brett snatched the pistol, turned, and shot a man sneaking up behind him.
Brett hurried back to me. “Are you doing okay?”
I nodded.
“Pretend you’re dead.”
“That’s my plan. I just wanted to watch a little longer,” I whispered.
“Just don’t move when they check you.”
“I won’t,” I replied, knowing a pulse wouldn’t be detected. Father had explained the healing process. He told me that would happen if I lost a lot of blood, and my breathing would become soft and shallow. They would think I was dead.
I got a quick look at the automatic rifle behind Brett. A gunshot rang out. I saw blood on his black bodysuit. “Play dead now,” he whispered as his head hit the floor with a thump.
Bursts of gunfire continued resounding throughout the building. Someone landed on my legs. I didn’t move as I heard shouting, banging, heavy footsteps, and smelled thick, nauseous smoke with the odor of burning garbage. Fingers touched my neck, lightly pushed down, and then they were gone.
Five minutes later, silence descended over the room except for the crackling of burning wood and debris striking the floor.
“We got all of them,” a man shouted.
I sensed a person kneel next to me. Arms pulled me up. Hands brushed my hair away from my face, “Nooooo,” Conner screamed, holding me against his chest.
I listened to his sobs and felt his tears as I heard his heart beating while mine was breaking. He sniffled as his lips touched mine. My arms dangled at my side. It took all my willpower not to raise them and wrap them around Conner’s neck.
“It’s Brett and Lindsey,” a man with a husky voice said. “You two, carry Caden out of here.”
“Mr. Crussett, she’s gone,” another man said.
Conner held my head tighter against his chest as his tears streamed down my hair and onto my face. I sensed someone tugging at him.
“Mr. Crussett, we have to go,” the man said.
Conner gently laid me down, put his hand on my cheek, and kissed my forehead. I knew it was his way of saying goodbye.
“Mr. Crussett, your father’s on the phone,” a man yelled.
Conner stroked my arm as he rose. I listened as he limped away along with other footsteps pounding on the concrete floor.
A moment later, “Shut the door,” a man shouted.
I opened my damp eyes and saw black heavy smoke and flames spiraling up the walls.
Brett clutched my arm. “Not yet.”
B
elieving there was an escape plan, I waited, motionless.
“Now,” Father said.
Brett and Lindsey leapt to their feet. Father took my hand, helped me stand, and embraced me. “I’m sorry, Sara,” he said as my eyes water. “You need to get in the van.”
“Wait,” I said, slipping off the bracelet and letting it drop into a pool of blood.
With his arm around my shoulder Father led me to the vehicle. “Climb in and sit against the far wall,” he said, yanking out a body with a badly damaged faced, dressed in a black bodysuit.
Feeling my lungs burning from the heavy smoke, I asked, “Where did you get the bodies?”
“A morgue. Ready for closed-coffin funerals.”
Holding onto the door, I stepped inside and eased down next the wall. My chest throbbed from the gunshot wound. My eyes drifted over the two bloodless bodies with torn, distorted faces lying in the van. I watched Father pull another one out.
I heard a loud crash outside. Smoke billowed through the van. Gripping my chest, I rose to my feet and peeked out. The roof was collapsing around Lindsey with flames rising above her head.
I opened my mouth to yell, and then brought my lips together, knowing they might be able to hear us outside the structure. My bottom lip quivered as Lindsey struggled, trying to push large, burning timbers with a gloved hand. I needed to help her and began to move out of the van.
Brett gripped my arm.“Lance will help her.”
My eyes darted around. All I could see was thick black smoke and flames shooting up everywhere. Suddenly, through the haze, I saw a silhouette running. When he came closer, I saw it was Father. He was carrying a fire extinguisher. He opened the valve and sprayed it toward Lindsey. The flames around her subsided. She leapt over the fallen timbers. He brushed sparks off her, threw the extinguisher, and sprinted with her to the van as the heat from the fire intensified.
Brett laid a severely damaged woman’s body with brown hair sticking out around a scraped skull, down by the shattered table and hurried after Father. He slammed the door shut behind him just as a heavy object plowed into the vehicle roof, causing the van to violently vibrate.
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