Chapter 17 #4
A slow and steady tapping sound grabbed my attention. Samuel was tapping his tennis shoes on the concrete floor. Maverick was getting to him.
“You know he’s having the time of his life while you’re in here, waiting to be executed. You have less than two weeks to live, buddy. Then they’re going to stick a needle in your veins.” Maverick mimicked an injection being given. “Your brother wants you dead. Do you hear me? Dead.”
Samuel was cracking around the edges. “Nope. Nope.” He shook his head several times, each swing more vehement than the one before.
Good.
“Yes, he does. He did terrible things, Samuel,” I added. “Horrible things to pretty girls. Pretty girls like me.”
With his chest rising and falling, he glanced at me. The man was suddenly confused.
“No, creating art. The most beautiful art.”
So much of me wanted him to suffer just like I’d done. Just like twelve other women had done. For an entirely different reason than before. Because he was protecting a monster.
Or did he not understand?
“He’s going to do it again, Samuel. Unless you help us,” Maverick added, now only a couple of inches from the shackled man.
Samuel moved back and forth in his seat until he was rocking the chair, the sound of scraping tips driving me crazy.
“He doesn’t deserve your love, Samuel,” I said quietly, unable to control the emotions. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I was nuts but this poor guy had been used. By his own family. The thought disgusted me. “The fucker is a horrible monster and nothing more.”
He lunged for me out of the blue, shocking me into silence. He managed to wrap his hand around my throat, digging his fingers into my neck until I was choking. The bastard was strong, his laugh echoing in my ears as a haze formed over my eyes. I couldn’t breathe.
Maverick reacted instantly. He had his hand wrapped around Samuel’s throat, pushing both the man and the chair back at an awkward angle. The shackles kept him in place while Maverick stood over him, squeezing his neck.
Couching, I stumbled backwards, both hands wrapped around my throat. Tears had already formed out of frustration.
“You worthless motherfucker,” my hero hissed, the wildness in his eyes catching me off guard.
Samuel laughed, not bothering to try to protect himself. He truly believed this was nothing but a game.
I struggled with the fear, holding onto the table as I moved closer.
“Your brother is… not coming… to save you,” I continued, wheezing when I did. “He doesn’t give… a shit… about you.”
“Where the fuck is he, Samuel? Where is your goddamn brother?” Maverick was shaking him. Samuel’s face was beet red yet he was smiling. My fucking God.
The sound of footsteps pounded in my ears. “Let him go, Maverick,” I managed.
“Like hell I will,” he snarled. “Why don’t you tell us where the fucker is hiding and maybe you won’t go straight to hell.”
“There will be more,” the bastard whispered. “Lots more!”
“That’s enough, Wells. You’re going to die for what you did. Unless there’s something you need to tell us.”
“You are the most beautiful girl I’ve taken. Do you know that? That’s why I have some very special things in mind for you.”
I could still hear his voice, the lust-filled inflection as he’d raked his well-manicured nails down my chest. His eyes. I’d stared into his eyes that night, memorizing every line in his face, the smile that seemed perfected from years of being in front of people.
From public speaking.
Polished to perfection.
Like his teeth.
Perfectly aligned. A smile that could capture the heart of millions.
Do you dream in color?
His laugh. Deep and throaty.
And completely in control.
“Maverick, don’t.” I whispered the request two seconds before the door was thrown open again. This time, the guards weren’t taking no for an answer, one guard smacking his hand against his weapon, the other physically ripping Maverick away from Samuel.
“You both need to leave,” the guard barked, his eyes dancing back and forth between us.
Maverick wasn’t ready to let Samuel alone, struggling with the guards, even managing to break free.
They tackled him against the wall.
“Maverick.” I walked closer, placing my hand on his arm.
He finally took a deep breath, slowly shifting his gaze toward me.
Rage and blistering guilt had kept him locked in his own prison all these years, preventing him from enjoying his many successes.
With every storyline, every captured bad guy throughout the pages, he was hoping to relive the experience and alter the circumstances.
As the seconds ticked by, each one a methodical dance of visions and memories, our connection only deepened.
“He’s not worth it.” It was my turn to direct him with my eyes even as I squeezed my fingers.
“I’d listen to her if I were you.” The guard had his weapon in his hand. Eager to point it at Maverick.
After taking a deep breath, Maverick allowed a growl and held up his hands. While he backed away, one guard pushed his hand against Maverick’s chest, forcing him against the wall.
Samuel’s response as his chair was righted made my blood run cold. He laughed. Not the same maniacal laugh that I’d heard several times while a prisoner, but one issued by a child after witnessing something appealing to his wicked tastes.
“Get him out of here,” the guard snipped to the others waiting in the hallway. Meanwhile, he kept his glare on the powerful FBI man.
Samuel was still studying the camera in the ceiling. His mouth was moving. He was calling to his brother. I could feel it.
“Death is not the greatest loss in life,” I stated, keeping as much conviction in my voice was possible.
Samuel lolled his head to the side, able to silence the voices in his head for a few seconds. The smile he offered wasn’t one of calculation.
It was one of genuine happiness.
“No,” he said with clear reverence. “It’s just the beginning of pure light and love. True euphoria. I will live forever.”
As he was dragged out of the room, another cold shiver tickled my spine.
The guard said nothing else, merely glaring at Maverick, the sneer on his face the exact one I’d seen on the first guard who hadn’t been too thrilled to allow us into the prison. He backed away, his smirk providing even more evidence of the twisted truth we’d just discovered.
As soon as the men had disappeared out of sight, Maverick took me into his arms.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine. You don’t need to fight every battle.”
“Like hell, lady. That’s exactly what I intend on doing.” He lifted his head toward the door, taking deep breaths.
We’d already discovered the odd connection we shared could prevent words from being necessary within every conversation. However, at this point, something needed to be said.
“He’s not the killer.”
My thoughts exactly.
Only I wasn’t the one to make the declaration.