Chapter 16
Sixteen
Aubrey licked her dry lips and winced as her tongue ran over the swollen part. She was so thirsty. How long had she been here? Shadows danced across the walls, and her shoulders felt as if they were stretched out of their sockets.
A third voice could be heard outside the flimsy cabin walls, and her cheeks hurt from being slapped. Donovan’s hand had connected with her face multiple times before she’d passed out. Her throat was dry as sandpaper, and all she could taste was her own blood. Coppery and bitter.
She glanced down at her legs tied to the chair.
Someone had removed the walking boot, and her left foot was now twice its normal size.
Sharp pinpricks of pain skittered across her fingers, and she flexed them.
With her injury, there was no way she could outrun her captors. She had to think. Outsmart them.
Please, God, help me.
Boots sounded on the porch planks, and she closed her eyes again. No way did she want them to think she’d awoken.
“How long do you think we have until those marshals figure out where she is?” Finn asked. She’d recognize his accent even with a blindfold on.
“How would I know? Could be on their way already.”
One of the men grabbed her ponytail and yanked her head back. She yelped as needles of pain pulled at her scalp. “Told ya she was awake.”
Aubrey opened her eyes and looked into the face of evil.
“Still refusing to talk?” Donovan lifted his hand to strike her, and she closed her eyes and braced for the contact. Only it didn’t come.
Rousseau blocked his hand. “Donovan, just kill her. We can’t let her go, and I don’t want blood on my hands.”
Donovan’s evil grin made her squirm. “Oh, don’t worry about that. You can save your own hide after I leave.”
“This whole thing is a mess.” Rousseau’s phone buzzed. “Frost is on his way. He’s ordered me to check with Howard.”
From what Aubrey could tell, Rousseau didn’t like being bossed around by Frost one bit.
Rousseau turned away. “Where are you? Hang on, I’m putting you on speaker.”
“I couldn’t get free.” Howard’s voice came through the phone speaker.
No. Aubrey’s heart squeezed in her chest. Supervisor Howard?
Sending her up the mountain with those searchers made sense now. He’d wanted Donovan to find her.
Her boss said, “All my deputies are out looking for Donovan. You’re on your own.”
“And you’re sure no one suspects you?” Donovan asked over his shoulder, his attention off Aubrey for a second.
“Positive,” Howard said. “I’ve got the whole team out chasing phone signals, looking for our admin. You guys just need to make sure Mullinax didn’t snitch to her.” Car brakes squealed over the line. “I’m outside, coming in. Don’t shoot me.” The call ended.
Finn’s voice was low and menacing. “You won’t have to worry about her talking. I’ll make sure she never says a word about me or you. Ever.”
This was it. They meant to kill her. Fear surged through her body, hot and sharp. But she clung to one unshakable certainty—Ethan would come for her. She believed that with every breath she had left. And when he did, she would be able to give him important information again.
She needed these guys to tell her more.
Her lungs constricted as she listened to their conversation. Burned for lack of oxygen.
“Too mouthy for your own good, aren’t you?” Rousseau grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head hard.
Flashes of pain pierced her scalp, her neck held at an odd angle, and she yelped, tried to move out of his grasp.
“It’s too late.” His hot breath almost choked the oxygen from her. But something told her he was just trying to act like he was in charge.
Was Frost the head of the syndicate?
Or someone else?
“Please…don’t.” The pain intensified the harder he twisted her hair. Her eyes clouded with tears.
The door flung open and her boss strode in. Rousseau let go of her.
“Supervisor Howard, I don’t understand…”
Howard’s reply carried a quiet edge of satisfaction. “Don’t understand what, Aubrey? Why I’m helping the syndicate? Fixing federal cases for the syndicate? Manipulating investigations?”
He didn’t wait for an answer before continuing. “Money. It makes the world go around.” His bravado cracked, and she saw fury beneath his expression. “My wife cleaned me out when she left me. I have nothing. The syndicate pays well.”
“Nothing but your oath.” Aubrey croaked out the words. “Which you betrayed.”
“Honor doesn’t pay the bills.”
Aubrey closed her eyes for a moment. “And the judge? Did you set him up?”
“Judge Mullinax was useful, for a time. Fixing trials. But then he developed a conscience. He was compromised, like the rest of us. But he wouldn’t stay in line.”
“I can’t believe it.” She closed her eyes at the thought of the judge’s betrayal. Had she ever really known him?
“Believe it, Ms. Richardson. Your boyfriend sold out his oath and handed classified information to the cartel.”
Donovan smirked, and she leaned away from his evil presence. He grabbed her chin between his fingers and pinched. “Turns out you were simply a means to an end, darlin’. Someone else he could manipulate.”
No. The tears flowed freely now. She knew Stephen. He’d been her friend for years. She had to believe that the lies had come later—when he’d realized he was backed into a corner by these people.
“But why? Why not just scare him?” Aubrey’s gaze bounced between the men.
“Where’s the fun in that, darlin’?” Donovan leaned into her space. “I was brought in here to do a job.” His smile thinned. “Turns out killing you is a perk.” He dragged the knife along the scruff on his chin.
The word settled in her chest like a shard of ice.
Perk.
Aubrey swallowed. “Aren’t you tired of all the killing? Being in jail or on the run?” Why live like this when redemption was possible?
For a moment, Donovan simply stared at her. Then his mouth curved, slow and humorless. “Listen to you.” He leaned closer, his breath sour with tobacco. “Still trying to save souls.”
Rousseau snorted somewhere behind her.
The faint whomp-whomp of a helicopter echoed across the mountain range. Conversation died. The men paused, listening, while Aubrey craned her neck toward the small window.
Her stomach dropped as the aircraft banked away from their position.
Almost dusk. No way Butler would find her tonight.
Even so, the men traded sharp, uneasy looks.
“I don’t need any additional felonies added to my criminal record.” Howard strode out of the cabin, the door slamming hard against its hinges.
Rousseau began pacing the length of the room, fists clenched at his sides. “You know the syndicate and Frost won’t like it if we leave evidence behind.”
“Calm down, Rousseau.” Finn pushed off the wall and moved in closer. “What we do now depends on the little lady.”
Donovan ran a dirty finger down her cheek, his cheap aftershave combined with body odor overpowering in the small space. He pulled a knife from his jacket and pressed the blade into the soft skin on her neck.
She whimpered. She didn’t dare breathe for fear that he’d slice her open.
“You know, I could make you bleed out with a thousand tiny cuts.”
He continued to push the knife tip into the soft skin of her cheek. Her neck. Her arm.
She cried out.
Fear seized her, paralyzing her mind. She couldn’t push back, couldn’t even form the words.
Donovan’s gaze raked over her, lewd and calculating.
The cramped cabin pulsed with menace, and she shivered.
She heard the chopper again, making another pass.
Rescue was close. She shut her eyes in relief. Jesus, help me! Keep me safe.
“You know what? I’m leaving too.” Rousseau stared at Aubrey a moment and then turned. “I don’t need to be caught with you, Donovan.”
He darted out of the cabin, leaving Aubrey alone with her nightmare.
She pushed down her fear and met Donovan’s gaze. His eyes had a crazed look, dark and void as a night sky with no light.
Aubrey’s heart pounded out a frantic rhythm. The events of the day she lost her sister repeated on an endless loop. Please, God, send Ethan.
“You really thought I wouldn’t corner you at the doctor’s office?” Donovan said, amused.
Aubrey forced a breath. His smirk didn’t reach his eyes—those were flat and hungry.
“Howard stumbled across your connection to me completely by accident, you know,” he continued conversationally, as though they were simply passing the time of day.
“Got curious about your relationship with the judge, looked into your past. When they realized it was time for the judge to go, Rousseau contacted me. Made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. ”
His words landed like stones in her stomach.
“Why kill the judge?”
Donovan’s grin widened. “Frost and Rousseau wanted him gone.” He shrugged as though that explained everything.
“I helped them make that happen, and they helped me out of prison. Fair trade.” He flicked his thumb along the knife’s edge until a drop of his own blood dangled off the sharp tip.
“Now I get to give you what you deserve. And ending the lives of some marshals in the process? That’s dessert. ”
Her stomach dropped. Whoever came for her would be walking into a trap. “Butler—” She shook her head. “You don’t have to do this. You can let me go.”
He moved into her space, his rancid breath ghosting across her face, and she recoiled.
“The syndicate wants Ethan dead. He’s been snooping around Roger’s activities, talking to people he should never have talked to.
” His evil grin soured her stomach. “When Ethan comes for you, I’m gonna kill him too.
” Donovan looked like a caged animal, his body wound tight as a spring, ready to pounce.
Waiting for something—or someone.
Aubrey had to look away. She cleared her throat. A cold sweat covered her body. “I’m thirsty. Can I get a drink of water?”
Donovan grunted and held a bottle of water to her lips.
She drank greedily, but the water had a funny aftertaste. “Thank you.” Her vision swam. “What was in that water?”