Chapter Twenty-One
S cias held her arm tightly, dragging her behind him as they entered the warehouse.
She wouldn’t scream. Wouldn’t cry. Refused to feed into his ego-maniacal fantasy.
The overhead lights automatically came up, revealing several bulldozers, dump trucks, and various other machines she had no idea what they were.
She also didn’t know where she was. With a sinking feeling, she realized Evren wouldn’t have an idea where to look for her.
He would never know how she felt about him.
How he healed not only her heart, but also her soul.
Perhaps her only regret now, as her past was about to catch up with her, was the future she envisioned for them.
Surrounded with love, laughter, and adventure.
Lowen took a deep breath and reconciled all the would’ve, could’ve, should’ve moments.
Well, if she was to die, she wouldn’t cower like the pathetic woman she’d once been.
Saint Rita gave her a do-over to live the life she wanted, not the one forced upon her.
She mentally thanked the saint for allowing her the chance to live life to the fullest, and in that vow found true love.
Peace settled over, comforting her.
“Sit there, bitch,” Scias snapped and pushed her to a chair resting in the center of the warehouse. “You’re going to rue the day you ran from me.”
“I will rue nothing,” she said calmly.
He backhanded her across the face, almost knocking her from the chair.
Lowen had to admit, the hit hurt. However, this was the Scias she knew, the rabid animal only fit for extermination, and she knew how to get under his skin.
Plastering a big smile on her face, despite the heat of the slap he’d given her, dispelled the threads of his wrath.
“You’re so predictable,” she mused as she stood up and dusted off the back of her jeans. “I do some unperceived thing to provoke your ire and you turn around and hit me. Or kick me. Burn me. Rape me. Well, you get the picture.”
His gaze narrowed. “You seem ... different.”
“You mean I’m not a weeping, slobbery mess? Begging for your mercy? No, I’ll never be that woman again.” She leaned a little closer, as if wanting to tell him a secret. “You. Don’t. Scare. Me. Anymore.”
His nostrils flared. Murderous intent darkened his ugly face.
“No one knows you’re here,” he sneered. “You think you’re going to be saved?”
“No, I figured death was going to come into play,” she replied calmly, although the tiny bit of broken woman still inside her wanted to cower. “Yours or mine, I’m not quite sure yet.”
He gave a humorless chuckle. “You think I’m going to be the one who dies tonight?”
She shrugged. “You can pull out your gun right now and shoot me in the head. So, why don’t you?”
Scias did just that, pulled his weapon from its sheath under his suit coat, and leveled the barrel at her forehead. She stared him in the eye, waiting. Defiantly daring him. Then, he suddenly lowered his gun.
“You’re not what I expected,” he said. “I think I like this version of you. It’ll make breaking you that much sweeter.”
She waved her hand around. “Why did you bring me here, Scias?”
“You’ve been fucking Evren Grenier.”
“You brought me here because I’m fucking Evren?”
“You admit it!”
“Why wouldn’t I admit that?”
“Slut.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “I’m a slut, but you have two mistresses?”
He frowned. “How do you know I have two mistresses?”
Once more, Lowen leaned forward. “I know lots of things.”
“Is that so? Well, then you’re definitely going to die after I beat you for running away. No one can hear you scream and I have all the equipment I need to make your body disappear.”
Horror washed over her. So that was it. He was going to bury her somewhere in the barren landscape.
Digging in the Nevada desert was tricky because the compacted dirt of the desert baked like bricks in the hot sun.
She had to quickly reconcile the thought that if he was successful and killed her, her body would never be found.
Taking a deep breath, she refused to let him know how much that thought bothered her.
“We’ll see,” she said.
Then, before he could blink, she lifted her leg and kicked him as hard as possible right between the legs.
Scias let out a pained moan and dropped to his knees.
Lowen grabbed his gun but before she could shoot him, his men fired off a warning shot, forcing her to duck.
She turned and darted away, using the machines to shield her until she could think of a way to escape.
****
T he area was eerily silent. No breeze. No moonlight. A ghost town where even the ghosts didn’t want to play.
“There’s nobody here!” Evren shouted in frustration. “Goddamn it!”
Saxon went hunting through the abandoned village. Run-down wooden buildings reduced to rotting boards and rusty nails. Jeremiah headed toward the fenced-off mine opening.
Evren tilted his head back, staring into the inky-black sky. He didn’t know where she was, and had no way to save her from Scias’s clutches. “That asshole traitor is dead and he got the last fucking laugh.”
“We’ll find her,” Jeremiah assured him. “He probably took her to his home.”
“What if she’s not there?” Evren demanded. “He could’ve taken her anywhere! Damn it, Jeremiah. I can’t lose her.”
“Focus, Evren,” Jeremiah snapped. “You can’t help her if you can’t think straight.”
Suddenly, a noise came from the mine, and both brothers turned. Something cold sluiced down his spine. He’d never been a man afraid of things that went bump in the night because his own fucking stepparents were the boogeymen, but that didn’t rule out the jump-scare aspect of an abandoned mine.
“Who’s there?” Jeremiah called out.
From the ebon darkness of the tunnel, a figure emerged. Evren took a step back before his logic came to the rescue.
“Phineas?” Jeremiah asked.
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” the older man said, looking around cautiously. “The other one isn’t with you, is he?”
“The other one?”
“Scias Mailliard.”
“Uh, no.”
Evren stepped up. “We were told he brought a woman here. Do you know anything about that?”
“He’s been here a couple of times, but never brought a female.”
“I’ve been trying to find you,” Jeremiah said. “Where’ve you been hiding?”
Phineas gestured to the mine entrance behind him. “The first time Mailliard came here, he was threatening things. He knew things. He was gonna take the mine from me, so I had to protect it. I moved here to make sure that bastard wouldn’t get his hands on my gold.”
“Isn’t that dangerous? What about a cave-in?”
“I’ve mapped this mine,” he said, boastful. “It’s sturdy and safe. As good a place as any to make my temporary home. I just never realized how many people wanted Direridge.”
“Phineas, there’s no gold or silver in the mine,” Jeremiah gently told the older man.
He cocked his head, looking confused. “How do you know?”
“I had a geologist come in and do some testing.”
“No gold?” Phineas asked, sounding confused. “No silver?”
“Afraid not,” Jeremiah replied. “But it might have opals.”
Phineas thought for a moment. “Oh. I don’t know how to mine for that.”
Jeremiah shared a look with Evren, who was getting impatient with every minute that passed and they weren’t searching for Lowen.
“Jeremiah,” he said tightly. “We need to look for Lowen.”
“Lowen?” Phineas questioned. “I’ve heard that name.”
Evren’s attention snapped to him. “What?”
“Yeah. Mailliard said that name when he was last here. Wanted to hurt her.”
“Did he say where he was planning on taking her?”
“Well, not really. He did mention some warehouses that had special accommodations for visitors, if you know what I mean.”
Fear blanketed Evren’s hope. What warehouses? Where were they? There were warehouses all over Clark County. Saxon immediately pulled out his phone, walking a little bit away to talk to whoever was on the other side of the call he placed.
“Are the opals valuable?” Phineas asked.
“Depends,” Jeremiah answered. “Like other gemstones, value is placed on color and clarity. Remember, though, the geologist couldn’t verify that opals were there, just the chance of them.”
“They’re there,” Evren said. “Lowen said she heard Mailliard say they were N1.”
Jeremiah’s eyebrows shot up. “Seriously?”
Phineas cast his gaze to the ground, shaking his head as the toe of his boot scraped some dirt. Finally, after a long moment that almost snapped Evren’s patience, he glanced back at Jeremiah.
“Then I reckon you’re the best person to take care of this mine,” the old man said. “I’ll turn it over to you. Recoup your money and keep it out of that maniac’s hands.”
Jeremiah nodded. “When this mess is all over, I’d like for us sit down and talk. I admire your dedication to Direridge.”
“All right,” Phineas said, sounding confused.
“Maybe we can work out a partnership deal.”
Phineas blinked. “You’d let me stay here?”
Jeremiah shot a quick, understanding look at Evren. “I’ve recently learned that some things are worth taking a chance on.”
Saxon hurried back. “I got it.”
“Got what?” Evren asked.
“Where Scias’s warehouses are. The bartender I, uh, interviewed.” Saxon paused and threw a quick glance at Phineas. “Yeah, so, him. The entire time he was strung ... uh, sitting docilly in front of my desk, he kept babbling about his other job at the warehouse. Remember, Jeremiah?”
“I do.”
“We don’t know that’s where she’s being held,” Evren argued. “It might not be the warehouses.”
“But it makes the most sense,” Saxon said matter-of-factly. “It’s full of construction machinery, including a backhoe, which is the easiest way to dig a grave.”
Horror washed through Evren. “Oh, fuck. Where is this warehouse?”
“Interstate 95 North,” Saxon replied. He turned on his heel and started marching away. “I’ll drive!”
“Oh, hell, no,” Jeremiah said, following. “He doesn’t even have a license.”