Chapter 26 Where’s the Raid?
Where's the Raid?
Amy used her best death glare on the blond guy leering at her from where he sat on a camp stool.
Shooting him daggers was about all she could do from her seated position on the damp, rotten floorboards.
Her back rested against ancient, splintered wood, and she tried not to think about creepy crawlers infesting it.
Her wrists were zip-tied behind her so tight her fingertips tingled.
Her socks and sneakers had been removed, and her bare feet were bound at the ankles with another zip tie.
Even if she could lurch upright and escape from the three menaces who’d brought her here, how far would she get in the shadowy woods on bare feet?
And she was already bone-cold from sitting in this tumble-down shack high in the mountains on a freezing October night.
She couldn’t allow it to distract her from finding a way out of this unimaginable situation.
She willed herself to remain present and dig deep for a kind of inner steel she’d never had to tap before.
If only this were like the movies! The handsome hero would come riding in on his stallion, throw her over his saddle, and gallop away. In her case, the handsome, brown-eyed deputy sheriff in his shiny patrol vehicle—the same man who had shredded her heart yet somehow still made it tap dance.
No, if she was going to get out of this alive, it would be through her own wellspring of grit.
That, she had. Opportunity? Not so much.
If she didn’t make it, at least Shane would know he’d been wrong about her.
She was innocent. Small consolation, though.
She’d rather escape with her life and have him believe she was guilty.
Would he look for her? Or would he assume she blew him off in the wake of their confrontation?
If he did cruise past Mountain Coffee, nothing would look out of place.
Micky had tossed the box into her Explorer and locked her back door with his ill-gotten key, leaving no sign of the tussle.
The knife-wielding blond guy had demolished her phone, crushing any hope of tracking its signals—and her—along with it.
Her spirits deflated further as she surveyed her surroundings. The dark, one-room cabin was lit by one stinky kerosene lantern, and it threw ominous shadows into the corners and onto the faces of the men guarding her.
Using the point of a large, fixed-blade knife, the guy seated on the camp stool cleaned his grimy nails with a casualness that shot icicles down Amy’s spine.
When he wasn’t picking at his nails or his teeth with the tip, he busied himself sharpening the blade on a rectangular stone.
Over and over and over, the scraping noise made her grind her molars.
The other guy, who was playing sentry by the front door, was the dude she recognized as Benny from the fake fishing trip. He was even uglier now that she’d had a closer look, with his rotten teeth, his sallow skin, and his greasy black hair hanging like strings from the confines of his beanie.
Do drugs much?
Benny was also way twitchier than the last time she’d seen him, which had been at home after the Boarding Call.
She had evaded Shane’s questions about the guy when he’d asked, but she’d done it to protect Micky.
Dear Lord, how she regretted that decision.
She might have been able to help Shane instead of throwing a roadblock in his way, and Micky didn’t deserve her protection. She saw that so clearly now.
Micky had spun a smooth lie when he’d begged her to keep his friendship with Benny a secret.
His reason for hiding the truth? Benny had gotten into trouble with drugs before and had a record, and Micky hadn’t wanted Shane to know about the guy’s past. If Shane did, Micky had argued, he would have stuck his nose into Micky’s business, and if Micky’s customers saw the deputy constantly sniffing around his garage, they would have quit him.
He couldn’t afford the bad press. And like the sucker she was, Amy had fallen for the story.
His argument had struck her as a logical one at the time, but looking back, she had been duplicitous.
She’d aided and abetted, which made her equally guilty in the eyes of the law.
And Shane wasn’t stupid; nor was she a good liar.
He had probably seen right through her clumsy dodging. No wonder he suspected her.
“You never told us how pretty your little brown coffee shop girl is, Allen. I’m thinking of all kinds of pleasant ways to spend time in this shithole while we wait for Duke.
” Knife Boy gave her a salacious grin. He had brown teeth and a jaundiced complexion too, along with what looked like oozing sores on his hands and neck.
The thought of those hands touching her skin sent ripples of nausea through her.
“I already told you, Dalton. No one touches her,” Micky bit out.
Amy turned her glare on Micky, who returned a rueful look of his own. He hovered somewhere between her and Dalton, as if trying to protect her from the creep’s blatant ogling. How had Micky gotten mixed up with these losers?
Dalton laughed, a high-pitched, reedy noise. These guys definitely dipped into whatever merchandise they were pushing. Too bad it didn’t work more quickly. She pictured them falling over like cockroaches that had been doused with Raid. Where’s the insect killer when you need it?
“Benny, call Duke again,” Dalton snarled, switching from his lecherous persona to his unhinged one. She’d witnessed his moods swing several times since they’d grabbed her behind her store, and she was convinced the man was capable of pretty much anything.
“I just did, asshole,” Benny tossed back.
“He’s not answering?” Dalton looked stunned, even though he’d asked the same question five minutes earlier and had gotten the same response. “And you’re sure that cop didn’t follow us?”
Benny glowered at him. “For the fiftieth fucking time, yes, I’m sure. He was in hot pursuit after someone else north of us. That’s why he flipped on his lights and siren. We would have seen him turn off and fall in behind us otherwise.”
“So why doesn’t Duke call us?” Dalton was definitely not playing with a full deck of cards.
“Reception’s not so hot up here,” Micky pointed out. He took three steps toward Amy and sat beside her. She tried to scoot away but was pinned between him and a broken-down couch that probably housed more creepy crawlers … and scurriers.
His forefinger traced a light line along her arm. He probably meant it as a reassuring gesture, but she shuddered and shrank away from his touch. He withdrew the digit. “Hey, how are you doing?” he murmured.
“How do you think I’m doing?” she hissed, raising her bound feet.
“Look, I’m sorry. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to be at the store tonight.”
“And you weren’t supposed to use my store for your drug dealing!” The blaze that had been burning inside her since they’d taken her flared brighter, fueled by her outrage. “You used me. You not only put my livelihood in danger, but you put me in danger!”
In that moment, she hated him for it. Regretted ever meeting him and falling for his sweet talk.
“I’ll get you out of this. I promise.”
“Just how are you going to do that, Micky? They’re the ones with the weapons and the bad attitudes, and now I know too much, thanks to you.”
“I’ll make sure nothing happens to you, Amy.” His voice was shot through with regret, but his words rang hollow.
“How did you get hooked up with these crazies? Are you doing drugs? Distributing them?”
He blew out an anguished breath. “I … had to borrow some money. So I helped these guys out once. I thought that’d be it, but Benny told me I had to keep helping them or he’d rat me out—not to the cops, but to some even scarier guys up the food chain.
” He visibly shuddered. “Things escalated from there. He made me hand over a key to your store. He promised they’d only use it for a short time.
I said no at first, but they threatened to hurt you. ”
“How did you get a key?” she gritted out.
He actually smirked as though proud of himself. “I made a copy a long time ago in case you asked for mine back. And you did.” Desolation returned to his eyes, and he dragged a hand down his face. “Amy, you’ve got to believe me. I—”
Benny turned and pointed a semi-automatic pistol at them. “What are you two whispering about over there?”
“Nothing. Just talking.” Under his breath, he said, “Play along.”
What does that mean?
“Get away from her, Allen.” Benny waved the gun, his finger twitching but not resting against the trigger pull. Yet.
“Gladly.” Micky stood and hitched up his jeans. He’d lost weight.
Dalton arched a skeptical eyebrow. “Thought you said the bitch did you wrong with some other dude, and you didn’t want nothin’ to do with her.”
Micky gave Amy a dark look that wasn’t real. “She did, and I don’t.”
Benny cocked his head. “Then why you wanna hang with her now?”
“I had a few more words to get in.” Micky turned his back on her. “I got ’em in.”
Benny seemed to be the shrewdest of the bunch and the one in charge.
Amy swallowed, trying to coat her dry throat.
“What do you plan to do with me when your friend gets here?” she said in his general direction.
If they left her here, she’d freeze to death.
But the thought of them taking her with them … She’d rather freeze.
Dalton cackled. “Oh, baby girl, I got sooo many plans. And you are gonna love every one of ’em.
” The gleam in his eyes and the twist in his smile were pure evil.
“I’m just settin’ over here imagining all the ways I’m gonna have you.
” Spreading his legs, he lolled his tongue out one side of his mouth while he mimed jacking off.