Chapter 40
T he clock on the wall announced another hour down, and with each hour she was there, alone, she was seething, and of course plotting.
Just thirty-two hours in this house, stuck to the radiator, and the asshole had left her a jar, a bottle of water and another sandwich of which she wasn’t eating.
She had drank the water and, because she didn’t fucking care, used the jar for the bursting bladder she had.
If nothing else, she could use it as a weapon if needed.
But now, she was at the point where she was hoping her guys were on their way.
She wasn’t stupid, they were in Europe, and if they knew, and something inside her felt they did, it was going to be a while ‘til they found her.
She was going to have to be savvy, and smart, because while she was hoping on her guys, she was possibly going to have to figure out how to save herself.
So...thirty-two hours. If it worked out as the past thirty-two hours, Officer Douritz would be back soon. And she was going to have to deal with shit. He had been more pissed off the last time he showed up, which was about four hours ago, and oddly she still didn’t know his first fucking name.
Hearing the sound of the lock, she frowned. Asshole was early.
He came in with a broad smile on his lips, but it quickly fell when he saw the untouched sandwich still lying there and storm clouds gathered in his eyes. "You didn't eat." He sighed, shaking his head. "Do you want an IV and a feeding tube? Because that's where you're heading with this."
“No. If you want me to eat, bring me something that is packaged,” she offered. “Sorry, Officer Douritz, but I’m not going to trust what you give me since you kidnapped me. I mean honestly, where is the lie?”
"I wouldn't hurt you." He was getting angry again. "I only drugged you to make sure you wouldn't hurt yourself on the way here. Now that you're safe, you need to eat!"
“I will. If you bring me packaged food,” she countered. “And yes, I’m actually hungry, but Officer, you have to kinda see. If you want me smart, I’m being smart.” The reason was sound. “So don’t get mad at me for telling the truth and keeping myself safe.”
"On this, you're just being petty," he snapped. "I brought you here to save you and you're just talking yourself in circles. Eat the fucking sandwich or I'll make you eat it."
“So this is how you treat someone you love?” She shook her head.
“Or is it that you think If I eat that sandwich I’ll accept that love?
I’m not stupid, Officer. You want me to be good, I want packaged food.
Threatening me isn’t going to endear me to you, either.
” She went on. “You clearly have all the power here, stalking me and bringing me here. Allow me this then? Something packaged. I don’t give a shit if it’s a fucking protein bar, you want me to trust you? ”
"I don't fucking care if you trust me," he replied bluntly. "I just want you to obey me. And if you won't do that of your own free will, then I will beat obedience into you. You will serve me as a wife should serve her husband."
“In what year?” she asked. “Is this 1950? Or Victorian England?” she asked. “I need to know what I’m supposed to be doing. And dude...really, why me? I mean you’re decently attractive,” not a lie, “why me?”
"We have a connection," he replied, rolling his eyes as though she were stupid. "And there's no point giving you the rules right now since you can't even follow the simplest of basic fucking instructions. Really, Petra."
He shook his head, disappointment in every line of his face. "I thought you were smarter than this." He stalked away, heading toward his bedroom where, if the previous night was anything to go by, he'd change into street clothes and then go and crack a beer and make himself some food.
Asshole wasn’t even on this planet, was he?
She looked to the bologna sandwich and sneered, she didn’t tell him she had pulled the meat out of it, and had it wrapped around her hand, getting her hand greasy, to help her slip that cuff off when she needed it.
He also didn’t have to know about the straight pin she found under the radiator, which she was planning to stab into his eye when given the chance.
But right now, she had to wait...and watch...and be patient.
Looking up to the ceiling, the open beams done in a rich chocolate brown, dusty but well kept.
She could smell the scents of oil soap. She could see the place was well taken care of, but not completely.
He had specific things...like the floor was swept and not sticky but it wasn’t gleaming.
And the walls were clear but the paint wasn’t fresh.
The furniture was clean but older, and the kitchen wasn’t updated but there was the scent of cleaners.
She needed to figure this all out. He was selectively proud it seemed, and she needed to be able to capitalize on this.
Night had fallen while he was showering and changing and the shadows were creeping across the floor.
He hadn't left the light on for her when he came through on his way to the kitchen, all freshly washed and comfortable, and she hated him all the more for it, but it meant that her eyes were adjusted to the gloom well enough to see the face popping up at the window and ducking down again. It had looked an awful lot like Leo.
Were they here? Hoped surged in her chest as she stared at the dark space, hoping he'd give her some sort of sign.
She only heard the clicking of the lock at the front door because she was on high alert, but it sent her heart racing.
It had to be them. No one else would be breaking into a cop's house in the night.
Slipping her wrist a little in the cuff she felt the give go, and slowly pulled free, changing her seat, so whatever was going to happen, she would be ready for.
Free of the metal, she rolled the straight pin into her hand, and pulled the jar he had left her closer, as she was not discounting any of her possible weapons.
The asshole was in the kitchen, the water on as he muttered to himself. He didn’t hear the door slide open, nor did he see the two bodies that melted into the shadows of the room. But she did. The gleam of scales, and the bone white of the ghost she knew so well.
Swallowing, she went on red alert, ready for whatever was going to happen.
More shadows streamed in behind them, heading to other parts of the house.
She could have told them there was no one else around, but she didn't dare make a sound.
Besides, knowing them they'd have checked anyway.
They were thorough, her men. They didn't leave a threat at their backs if they could help it.
Leo slipped into the room and came to her side, eyes anxiously checking her over in the near dark to make sure she wasn't injured.
His eyes narrowed at the chain and if he hadn't looked murderous before, he certainly did now.
He made a hand gesture to the other two and they crept toward the kitchen where their unsuspecting victim was sizzling something on the stove.
Gods, she was glad to see them. She wanted to jump into his arms and fall apart, but there would be time for that later. Right now, she was pissed.
Pulling both her wrists up, she showed him she was free and then pointed to the sandwich and then shook her head, letting him know she had not eaten anything.
And she was slightly weak, but something else was happening inside her, a thrumming, as adrenaline started.
They would not let what happened to her go unpunished.
Jack in his Goblin mask came into view and she watched as Carter and Emerson, his mask not lit, stood in the shadows close to her. Which meant that Easton and Rix were with that asshole, but where was her Devil?
He stepped out of the gloom with a finger to his Devil mouth and then offered her his hand, helping her to rise.
She did, wobbly as she had spent a lot of time on her ass, and smiled to herself as Leo was right behind her, holding her steady.
Devil’s fingers went to her cheek, where she knew the bruise bloomed from where he hit her.
The rigid stance of her Devil told her so much, but she had her own ideas.
“You okay?” Jack murmured to her. She nodded. “We need to get you out.”
“No,” she said, voice barely a whisper, but they heard her. “I am staying and I’m going to scare the shit outta this asshole.”
She looked beyond, seeing Easton and Rix just outside the bright glow of the kitchen lights, and rolled her shoulders before she walked forward, and into the light. She stood there, quiet, behind the asshole cop, and got ready for war.
“Officer Douritz,” she said softly, knowing the asshole would turn around when he heard her voice.
"You little bitch." He turned the burner off and spun toward her, ready to swing.
She ducked and stepped back, knowing her guys were there, behind her, waiting to see what she would do.
“Wonderful thing to say to the woman you wanna wife up,” she said and rolled her eyes, just out of his reach.
“Ah ah... Don’t take another step, shit bag.
I got out of your shitty cuffs, you don’t think I wouldn’t have a plan.
..” Standing her ground, she felt the slide of something heavy into her back pocket.
So much for the pin idea, she thought as she put her arm behind her back and gripped the handle of the knife. Rix.
“Now we are going to have a discussion about how to treat women...though I don’t know why I’m going to bother, you won’t last the hour...” And they would see to that.
And then it all went to shit. Apparently, the fucker had a concealed holster in the small of his back because one second he was holding a spatula, the next he had a gun pointed at her face.
"You're only wife-material when you've learned your place," he sneered, "and I haven't even begun to start beating that into you. "