Chapter 8
CHAPTER 8
Tex had moved past worried. Had embraced the pain he was feeling. Didn’t give a shit about being naked as the day he was born. He’d moved into pissed-way-the-hell-off territory.
The assholes who’d taken him were giving him the minimal food and water necessary to keep him alive and that was about it. They’d finally thrown a bucket into his box—a day late and a dollar short—for him to use to relieve himself, but they still hadn’t told him a damn thing. He thought it had been a few days since his abduction. All he could think about was Melody. How scared she must be. How worried. He wondered if she’d gotten a hold of any of his friends by now. What the police were doing to find him.
He had no doubt that a search was underway, and for the first time, he was the subject of that search. He was used to being on the other side. Figuring out clues and scouring electronic devices for any kind of intel. He was actually bored as fuck. And he had a headache from hell from the music his captors were still blasting. He’d figured it was to keep him from overhearing anything about where he was or what was said by anyone outside his little seven-by-three-by-five slice of hell.
As soon as he had the thought, the door to his box opened, sending painful rays of lights into his eyes once more. As in the past, the only thing he could do was shut his eyes to try to preserve his sight, and his captors took the opportunity to grab him.
They weren’t gentle about it either, which wasn’t a surprise. He stumbled on his foot as he was dragged out of the box and shoved into the uncomfortable wooden chair once more, binding him securely. Tex was pretty sure he was gonna get a splinter of these times from them handling him so violently. The thought almost made him grin. It would be hilarious when he was rescued if, out of this entire fucked-up situation, his only injury besides the results of the beatings was a fucking splinter in his ass.
But any kind of humor fled when his eyes adjusted to the light and he saw there were more people in the room than there’d ever been in the past. He could see his box set against one wall. Someone had built it specifically for keeping a person. He didn’t know if he was the first “guest” these men had ever hosted, or if they did this all the time.
There was a window but it was covered by dark curtains. Tex could see a little bit of light coming through the bottom of the material, letting him know it was daytime. He wished he could see outside, even for a moment. Was he in a neighborhood? A farmhouse? A warehouse? He had no way of telling.
Looking at his captors, he saw they were wearing all black, same as the day he’d been taken. They had gloves on and masks covering their faces. It was difficult to tell what nationality they were. He could see they were all Caucasian though. It was a start. Tex filed the information away.
One of the men, who seemed to be in charge, nodded at another. The latter walked over to a stool sitting in the otherwise empty room…empty other than the fucking box, the chair he was sitting in, and of course, the four other men in the room.
“It seems as if your wife isn’t cooperating,” the man said.
Tex didn’t recognize the man’s voice. He had no discernable accent that he could detect. He needed intel, and the only way to get it was to antagonize this man. Get him to admit why he’d taken Tex in the first place. That was the only way to try to figure out who these men were and what connection they had to him. There had to be one. It was highly unlikely they’d randomly picked his car out of all the vehicles in the world to attack.
“Maybe if she knew who you were and why you took me, she’d be more willing to play your game,” Tex said.
“How do you know I haven’t already told her those things?” the man asked.
Tex smirked. “Because if you had, you’d be dead and I’d be home with my family.”
That didn’t go over well with the man. His brows furrowed, and Tex figured if he could see his mouth, he’d be frowning.
“So damn cocky,” the man said with a small shake of his head. “You’ve always been the cockiest son-of-a-bitch out there.”
So he did know Tex. He knew this was personal in some way. “Have we had the pleasure of meeting?” he pushed. He didn’t think the man would answer, but maybe he was wrong. Some men took pleasure in bragging about themselves and what they’d done. With luck, this man would be one of them. There wasn’t a lot Tex could do with the information, not naked and stuffed in a box, but when he was rescued, he could certainly make sure his captor and all his cronies couldn’t fuck with anyone ever again.
“As I said, your wife isn’t cooperating,” the man repeated.
Tex frowned. The lack of intel was getting to him. He was a man of action. He thrived on ferreting out the tiniest bit of information about his target. His fingers itched for a keyboard and computer. He could find out who this asshole was. All he needed was the tiniest thread to pull.
“She obviously doesn’t love you as much as you’d thought, does she?” the man asked, his voice louder.
Tex ignored him. Baiting him with Melody’s love, or lack of it, wasn’t going to work. Tex was very secure in his relationship with his wife. He’d do anything for her, would even die if it meant she would live. Which was a last resort, of course. He wanted to live. He had many more years of wedded bliss to experience.
“Are you listening to me?” the man yelled, losing some of the control he’d held onto since dragging Tex from the box.
“Yes,” he said simply.
“We left a note saying we’d give you back if she paid a ransom. And so far, she doesn’t seem interested in paying anything for your return.”
“Did you tell her how to get in touch with you? Left a number? An email? Something?” Tex asked, his voice even and calm. “Because without that, she can’t tell you that she’s working on it, can she?” He didn’t know how he knew exactly what to say to needle this man, but he did.
And he was right. His captors didn’t want money. They would’ve called her or otherwise gotten in touch if they did. Given Melody a way to get the ransom to them.
Tex saw the other men in the room share looks of confusion. Now it was more than obvious that they weren’t privy to the details of this kidnapping. They’d been brought in as muscle. For the intimidation factor…and they were obviously surprised that the request for money hadn’t included any way for Melody to communicate with the man in charge.
“She doesn’t fucking love you!” the man yelled, finally losing his temper. “The only reason she’s with a cripple like you is because of your money. It’s no wonder she doesn’t want to pay. She wants to keep all that cash to herself. She’s probably relieved she doesn’t have to look at your disgusting stump anymore!”
Tex stayed calm. Nothing this man said hit its mark. Melody had no problem whatsoever with his disability, and she certainly didn’t mind his scars or his “stump,” as this asshole called his leg.
When the man saw he wasn’t getting a rise out of Tex, he huffed out an agitated breath, then reached behind him.
That made Tex tense up for the first time. He knew what that movement meant—and he was right. His captor pulled a pistol from a holster at the small of his back and pointed the weapon at Tex.
“How do you think she’s gonna feel when she hears you being shot on tape?” the man asked, stepping closer to Tex.
Looking into the barrel of the gun made Tex break out in a sweat for the first time. He didn’t want to die. But he wasn’t going to give in to this man. Hell, the man hadn’t even really pumped him for any kind of information. Wasn’t threatening him to get him to talk. Tex wasn’t sure why the man was so pissed off. But he realized at that moment that this entire conversation was being recorded. That’s what the man near the stool had done. Pressed record on a fucking tape player. Something from the eighties. Which was kind of smart considering Tex—and some of the men and women he worked with—would be able to trace an audio file sent via email.
“Don’t comply!” Tex shouted, knowing the man planned on sending the tape to his wife to torture her. He was also pretty sure this wasn’t about to be the end of his life. No, this asshole wasn’t done with him. He was just getting started.
“Shut up!” the man ordered.
But Tex didn’t shut up. “I love you, Mel. I’m fine! Don’t give this asshole any money! Tell?—”
He didn’t get to finish his message of love for his children before a loud gunshot rang out through the room.
It took Tex a fraction of a second to realize that he wasn’t shot in the head, or heart, or gut, any of which would’ve probably been fatal.
No, the asshole had shot him in the leg. The calf.
He let out an anguished, belated yell. The pain was immense. Almost overwhelming. “You asshole! What the fuck?!” he exclaimed.
“Maybe that will give your precious wife motivation to get the fucking money we asked for,” the man said.
Through a red-hot haze of pain, Tex saw the man nod at the guy near the tape recorder. He clicked a button, then picked up the small device and left the room.
As the door opened, Tex saw what looked like some sort of living room, although not lived in for quite a while. But he didn’t get a chance to see much more before the door shut behind the man who’d left.
“Put him back in the box. Let him think about things for a while,” the man in charge ordered.
“Think about what?” Tex raged, struggling against the men who untied his hands and cut off the zip-tie they’d used to secure his now bleeding leg to the chair. “You haven’t asked me a damn thing. You haven’t requested I do anything. There’s nothing to think about except how much of a coward you are! You won’t even tell me what I’ve supposedly done to make you kidnap me in the first place!”
“You can think about how your precious Melody will feel when she gets that tape. When she hears you being shot and yelling in pain,” the man said with no feeling whatsoever. Then he turned his back on Tex as he was being dragged back to the box.
Tex struggled, but it was no use. He was literally thrown back into the box, landing with a thud on the hard floor before once more being shut into the dark. A split second later, the loud music started again.
Tex threw back his head and screamed out his frustration and pain.
His captor wasn’t wrong about his thoughts. It was all he could think about—Melody’s reaction to hearing that gunshot and wondering what the hell was happening to him. Worrying that he’d been killed, and she’d had to listen to it. He just hoped she’d be able to think rationally enough to understand that him yelling after the shot went off meant he obviously wasn’t dead.
Of course, he could still bleed out. Clasping his hands as tightly to his holes in his calf as he could to try to stop the bleeding, Tex rocked back and forth and clenched his teeth together as pain coursed through him.
He was essentially completely helpless now. With only one leg to stand on, literally, and that leg being shot, the only way he was getting out of this box was if he crawled…which he wasn’t opposed to doing if it meant escaping.
Except there was no way out of this box. He’d thoroughly examined every inch of it with his hands in the last couple of days. The only way he was getting out was if someone opened the door and freed him. Damn it.
Frustration ate at him. His captors had the upper hand, of that there was no doubt. He needed his friends to hurry the hell up and figure this out. It was obvious the man in charge knew Tex. And he seemed especially fixated on Melody, which was terrifying. He could be trying to use his wife to torture Tex, or he could be planning something more nefarious. The thought of Melody being in the same situation he was right now was perhaps the only thing that could break Tex.
He prayed someone had gotten a hold of Ryleigh. The young woman was a fucking genius with computers and hacking. With her looking into his files—he had no doubt she could hack into his computer with no problem—she should be able to find something. Anything.
His other friends weren’t exactly slouches either. Elizabeth, Baker, Wolf, Trigger, Mustang, Cookie, Cruz…if they all worked together they could figure this out. He just prayed they’d be able to do so before the lunatic with one hell of a grudge against him got a little too trigger happy and decided to cut his losses.
There was no way he would simply let Tex go at this point. No, it was either his friends figured this shit out, or Melody would be burying her husband.
It was that thought, along with the pain, that made Tex throw up. Not that there was much in his belly. Bile and a bit of water. He couldn’t stand the thought of Melody’s pain when she heard that tape.
“Come on, guys…I need you to figure this out and get me the hell out of here,” he mumbled, unable to hear his own words over the volume of the heavy metal.
For a split second, he thought about Raiden and Khloe. How they’d been shoved into a trunk with death metal—the disgusting kind—blaring all around them. He hadn’t understood the psychological and physical effects that sort of thing could have on a person until right this moment. He vowed if he lived through this, he’d call them and apologize for not finding them faster.
Doing his best to block out the music, Tex concentrated on his leg. He probed his aching calf and realized the bullet had gone straight through the fleshy part, which was a good thing. It meant he didn’t have a bullet lodged inside him.
The asshole was a very good shot, which didn’t make Tex feel all warm and fuzzy. He totally could’ve shot him somewhere that would’ve been fatal, and yet he hadn’t. He’d chosen to give him a flesh wound, a very painful flesh wound, through his calf instead. Tex would’ve preferred to be dealing with an amateur. But with every minute that passed, he was learning that was anything but the case. This guy was good. But Tex was positive his team was better. They had to be if he was going to get out of this alive.