Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
She pulled the car to a stop near the small, rundown gas station. The lights from the big Lincoln she’d been driving lit up the old pumps. Pumps that had run dry long ago. Windows with broken glass—crisscrossed like spider webs—reflected her lights back from the front of the station. Violet leaned forward as she peered through the windshield. Farmland stretched for miles on either side of the station. Withered crops that had been abandoned probably as long ago as the gas station.
From where she sat, there was no sign of Simone.
Shivering, she reached for her phone. She kept the car running. She dialed Simone’s number. It rang and rang and…
Voicemail.
“Hi, you’ve reached Simone. I’m out dancing my life away. Leave a message, and I’ll hit you up later.”
Her breath rushed out. “Simone, I’m here. Where are you?” Violet hung up. Clenching her back teeth, she turned off the car. The lights immediately died away. Violet opened the door. She looped her purse over her head, wearing it across her body. Her mace and her taser were in that bag. Slowly, she exited the vehicle, and as she did, she made sure to keep a grip on her phone—and to slide the knife out of her pocket and curl it in her right hand.
“Simone!” Violet called out.
No response.
Dammit.
The moon and stars shone down on her. She didn’t see anyone around. Not for miles and miles.
But I’m not alone. Royal is here.
Her finger swiped over her phone’s screen once more. She called Simone and?—
Violet stiffened. She could hear a phone ringing. Simone’s phone. The ringtone her friend had assigned for Violet ages ago. Turning slowly, Violet looked again at the old station. Part of the building had one of those big, sliding doors on the side. Like you’d see at a repair shop. A garage door that lifted up so you could drive your vehicle inside for maintenance work.
Back in the day, maybe the place had been a full-service shop. Get gas. Get a quick tune-up.
The phone kept ringing.
Violet shuffled forward. She used the light from her phone to illuminate that big, sliding door. Through the dark, dirty glass, she could just make out a car inside.
A sedan.
Her shuffling steps stopped.
The ringing stopped.
“Hi, you’ve reached Simone. I’m out dancing my life away…”
Violet lunged forward. She slammed her hands into the glass of that sliding door or garage door or whatever the hell it was. “Simone!” She didn’t see her friend beyond the glass. Just that damn car. The sedan. The car he took me in.
She slammed her hands into it, harder. “Simone!” A desperate scream.
And then…
Then the glass started to lift. The door started to rise. A grinding filled her ears even as Violet stumbled back a step. The gas station had appeared abandoned. But someone was raising the old garage door. And someone had parked the sedan.
Someone had taken Simone.
Higher, higher it went and then…
It stopped.
About two feet off the ground—maybe even just one foot—such a tight fit, the garage door stopped rising.
“You bastard!” Violet screamed. She knew what he wanted. For her to crawl under and go inside. He was opening the door just enough for her to fit through the gap.
He wants to make sure I go in alone.
Simone’s phone had pealed from inside that garage. Probably from the trunk of the sedan. Maybe her friend was trapped in the trunk, just as Violet had been trapped.
And maybe Simone had watched the freak take Violet from the theater on that terrible night. Maybe she had just stood there and watched…
But I’m not going to do that.
“I’m coming, Simone!” Violet yelled. She dropped to her stomach. She crawled beneath the door. She held her breath and prayed the ancient thing wouldn’t come crashing down on her. And she prayed that she and Simone would get out alive. “I’m coming!”
He understood exactly why Violet hated being stuck in a trunk. Who the hell wouldn’t hate being enclosed in the dark back of a vehicle? Being trapped in the trunk was damn well like being buried alive.
But as he heard Violet’s steps retreat and then the banging of her hands on what sounded like some kind of door or window, Royal pulled the small, glowing lever in the back of the trunk. He’d made sure she’d taken this ride deliberately. One, because the trunk was big enough to hold his burly ass. And two, because the Lincoln had the perfect, easy-to-see trunk release lever. One that was inside the cavernous interior of the trunk. Some people didn’t know that every car built after 2002 had to include a release lever inside the trunk.
That’s why the SOB used that freaking ancient sedan. He wanted a ride that didn’t have a release lever inside. No way for his victims to get out. So he’d deliberately used the old sedan to trap them.
After Royal tugged on the small lever, the trunk lid slowly rose, but he grabbed the edge, making sure it didn’t pop open all the way. Then he slithered out, touching down soundlessly and lowering the lid back in place.
If the prick had been watching the Lincoln arrive, he would only have seen Violet. No one else in the car with her. About two miles from the destination, Royal and Violet had stopped so he could slide into the trunk. No way did he want to risk being seen and blowing things to hell and back. After he’d gotten in the trunk, Violet had driven the rest of the way to their destination. Royal had instructed Violet to park the car in such a way that the trunk would be hidden so he could make his escape.
And she had. She’d parked the rear of the vehicle right against an overgrown patch of bushes. Plenty of shadow and hiding space for Royal. He crouched in the darkness, and his gaze swept around the decrepit gas station.
“Simone!” Violet’s desperate voice.
He stiffened. His gaze instantly zeroed in on her. Violet was crawling under an ancient, barely lifted garage door. Dammit, not good. If she got inside there, she’d be separated from him.
He rushed forward, still sticking to the darkness and cloaking his body. Violet.
But then Violet’s legs disappeared. She’d made it into the garage.
And the garage door lowered with a groan and screech of metal on metal.
Sonofabitch. So much for Royal’s well-laid plans. Time for the option B. Go in with guns blazing. Good thing he’d come packing.
Violet clambered to her feet just as the door shuddered down behind her. Her breath heaved in and out. She still clutched her phone. And her knife. The knife was hidden in the palm of her right hand while her left hand held tightly to the phone. “Is someone here?” Violet called out. Someone had to be there. The jerk who’d opened and closed the old door.
Did she hear the faintest rustle of a footstep?
Her light swung back to the trunk of the car. Not closed. The lid of the trunk was open, maybe just an inch. Her breath heaved in and out as Violet advanced toward the trunk. “Simone?”
No answer.
It’s a trap. I know it’s a trap. He opened the door for me. I crawled inside. And now he wants me to go toward the trunk. Maybe he was waiting to shove her inside. Or maybe he was waiting to shove a knife into her back when she moved forward.
So…
She didn’t move. For an instant, Violet just froze. Think. Figure this out.
“I know you took Simone!” Her voice was clear. Calm. “Just like you took me. And Marcella White. Bailey Brown. Fiona Law.” Deliberately, she said their names. “I know what you’ve been doing. Watching us all. Taking us when you think no one else is around to see. You hide in the shadows—just like you’re hiding now—and you steal us away from our lives. You bring us to the middle of nowhere, and then you take our lives away completely.”
Another faint rustle. From the right. She turned that way. Maybe it was him. Maybe it was a rat. Her chin lifted.
I’m not alone. Royal has my back.
“You’re not taking my life away,” Violet told him. “You’re not taking Simone’s life away. You’re?—”
His soft laughter stopped her. The laughter was low and mocking and it came from the darkness just a few feet away.
She stiffened even more. Her spine was so straight it almost hurt.
“Simone is your friend.” His voice came to her. Low. Rasping. Disguised?
“Y-yes.”
“Yet she traded your life for hers.”
Violet’s heart shoved into her chest.
“She’s gone. And you’re here with me. Now we’ll finish what we started when I had you at the winery.”
Gone?
Violet shook her head.
“Aw, so sweet. You think a friend wouldn’t do that? She did. She left you all alone.”
It was him. The bastard who’d taken her. He was right there. He thought he’d been the one making the trap. But they’d pulled him out into the open. “I’m not alone.” Soft. Husky. Had he heard those words from her?
Didn’t matter. She lifted up her phone and flashed the light right at him. Time to see the monster who hid in the dark.
Tall. With shining glasses over his eyes—glasses that reflected the light back at her. Night vision? Is that what those glasses were? And some kind of black fabric covered the bottom of his face. A black, half-mask. His clothes were big and bulky. His hands were loose at his sides. One of his hands held a big, long knife.
One hell of a lot bigger than mine.
Wait, was something on that knife?
Something wet?
As her light hit him, he let out a heavy grunt, and his head jerked away from her. He tapped the side of the goggles, and then his masked face turned back toward her.
Did he turn the goggles off? Lower the intensity?
Violet backed up a step. “Simone?”
“Told you.” That same rasp. “She’s gone.”
The sedan was behind Violet. He was right there. And Royal…
Royal, where are you? He could come rushing in at any moment. Any. Moment. The sooner the better.
But… The garage door lowered back into place.
“There’s no one to save you this time,” he murmured. “You are going to be mine.”
The hell she would. “No, sorry. I have other plans.”
He laughed.
Then he lunged for her. And as he lunged for her, glass shattered on the garage door. Broken shards hit the floor even as thunder seemed to echo around the station. Stunned, surprised, her attacker whirled toward the sound. Violet skirted around the car, heading for the driver’s side and away from the masked man. She killed the light. Darkness closed around her.
Another explosion of glass.
Shatter. The shattering of the glass was just like it had been on stage. The glass breaking and shattering. Automatically, her head whipped toward the garage door. She knew who was breaking in to get to her side. Royal.
Before he’d gotten into the trunk, he’d promised to have her back. Always. She knew he would keep that vow because she trusted him. One hundred percent.
“Get the fuck out of there, Violet!” Royal shouted. Then he fired his gun again. He also kicked at the glass of the garage door, breaking it more as he punched his way inside to her.
“No!” A bellow that broke from the masked man. “You bitch!”
He rushed toward her. He had his big knife raised up. He was going to slice it down on her.
But another bullet fired. The attacker hit the floor, slamming his body down hard just before the bullet sank into the side of the sedan. She heard the distinct ping of it hitting metal. She also heard the knife clatter when it fell from the masked man’s fingers.
Violet’s breath panted out. And she attacked. She hit the small button on her knife. The blade sprang forward. Not as big as his blade, but it would get the job done.
He was rising and coming for her. But she didn’t stop. Her sweaty fingers had curled tightly around the handle of the knife, and she plunged it hard into his side. And she twisted it.
He howled. A cry of shock and pain even as he heaved her back.
But she didn’t go back far. Violet dropped her phone and grabbed the taser from her purse. She left the knife in the bastard’s side, and she drove her taser at him.
His body bucked and shuddered, and he let her go. He fell again, and she jumped over him. She ran for the shadows on the right where he’d been moments before. She was going to get the garage door open for Royal. If he was in this corner, the chains to lift the door must be here. I can pull them and get Royal inside.
Except Royal was already there. He grabbed her arms.
He’d broken through the glass to reach me.
“Baby.” His grip was almost bruising. “Get the fuck out of here. I’ll go after him.”
Go after him?
She peered over her shoulder even as she heard the thud of footsteps. Her attacker was fleeing. Rushing toward the back of the station. The taser hadn’t kept him down for long.
“I’ll end him,” Royal swore. “Leave. I’ll finish this. You don’t need to see what I do.”
He let her go. Bounded after those fleeing footsteps.
Violet knew she should get to the Lincoln. She should get inside. Lock the doors.
Only she didn’t do that. Her feet stumbled as she went back to the side of the sedan. She picked up her discarded phone. Turned on the light once more.
Her fingers shook. Her whole body shook. But she went back to the trunk. It was open that scary inch. She reached out and pushed it higher. Her light shone inside.
A sob broke from her.
Simone.
Her friend was in the trunk. A dark wig covered her hair. Her hands were bound with gray duct tape. Her ankles secured with the same thick tape. Tape that had been used to subdue Violet, too, just weeks ago.
Same trunk. Same tape.
But…
Simone’s eyes were closed. And her clothes and body were covered in red. Blood.
“Simone?” Violet whispered.
So much blood. Too much.
Her left hand went for Simone’s throat. She searched desperately for a pulse. The scent of blood clogged her nostrils. How many times had Simone been stabbed? How much pain had she endured?
A flutter moved beneath Violet’s fingers. The smallest beat of a pulse. Her imagination? Reality?
Be real. Be. Real. Violet dialed nine-one-one.