Terri Austin - Diners, Dives & Dead Ends

No one said anything during the ride and they didn’t turn on the radio. Rain lashed against the car. That and the engine were the only sounds I heard. It felt like we were moving pretty fast, so I assumed we were on the highway. When we stopped, I tried to gauge how long we’d been on the road. Maybe thirty minutes at the most. I desperately tried to keep my brain engaged so fear wouldn’t take over. If I could keep a level head, I might get out of this.

The door next to me opened and Henry hauled me out, slinging me over his shoulder. I thought it was Henry. It certainly smelled like Henry. Rain pelted me, and for a crazy second I thought about what I must look like with my butt bouncing next to Henry’s head. My size eight butt. I stifled a giggle, realizing I was close to hysteria. I swallowed the inappropriate laugh and reached up with my bound hands to tug at my blindfold.

“Don’t do that.” It was the guy who’d been sitting next to me. He followed behind us.

I dropped my hands and continued to flop against Henry’s back. I knew we’d walked into a building when the rain stopped hitting me. I heard a door open and Henry lowered me to my feet. I swayed a little and felt his hand on my arm steady me. He removed my blindfold, but left my wrists tied.

I blinked at the light and looked around. I was in a study. A personal library, really. Two tall windows flanked a stone fireplace along one wall. Shelves and shelves of hardback books lined the other three. An enormous wood desk stood in front of me, empty except for a laptop computer.

Henry pushed me toward a tufted leather chair in front of the desk. “Sit.”

I dripped a trail of water on a red Persian rug until I reached the chair and sat down. Henry stood sentinel behind me and it made my stomach clench.

Crossing my legs, I bounced my foot up and down. Exactly how Axton had acted the last time I’d seen him. I forced myself to stop fidgeting, but my stomach was still doing back flips and my heart raced.

After several minutes the door behind me opened. I twisted my head and watched BJ enter the room.

“Thank you, Henry. You can wait outside.” The Boss wore black today. Black jacket, black shirt, black pants. He just needed a villainous mustache to twirl and his ensemble would be complete.

He sat in the chair next to mine. He stared at me with those gold eyes as he worked the thin rope at my wrists. When my hands were free, he rubbed them, his long elegant fingers using just the right amount of pressure from my fingertips to my pulse point. The contact of his skin against mine made me shiver.

“Are they sore?”

“What the hell do you care?”

He stood and moved behind the desk and sat down. Placing his elbows on the desktop, he steepled his fingers against his lips. We sat in silence. He stared at me with no expression on his face, and I fought the urge to squirm like a naughty school girl brought before the principal.

“What am I going to do with you, Rose?”

I didn’t think he really expected an answer, so I said nothing.

“I’ve warned you to mind your own business. Several times. I’ve never done that before.”

Guess he was a little pissed I went to the police station. I chewed my bottom lip as my gaze travelled around the room. “Have you read any of these?”

“Pardon?”

“The books, have you read them?”

He glanced around at the books lining the walls. “No. I hired a decorator.”

“Oh.” For some reason I was disappointed. I could sort of picture him here, in a smoking jacket and slippers, reading a book with a snifter of brandy at his elbow. Does anyone actually own a smoking jacket? Where do you buy a smoking jacket? I almost did that inappropriate laugh thing again, but took a deep breath to calm myself.

“I like you, Rose, I really do. But not enough to let you fuck up what’s taken me years to build.”

“I don’t want to fuck up anything, I just want to find Ax. Then you can keep doing whatever criminal bullshit you do and leave me alone.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t do that.”

I wasn’t exactly sure what that meant. Was he going to kill me, torture me, lock me up?

He reached into the top desk drawer and pulled out a manila folder. He hesitated just a second before laying it on the desk in front of me.

I stared down at it, shaking my head. I didn’t want to see its contents. I knew it couldn’t be good news.

“Go ahead. I know you’re curious.”

With trembling fingers I flipped open the cover. Inside were eight by ten color photos. I snatched them up and thumbed through them. Scotty on a swing at school, my sister in her car, my mother and father eating in a restaurant, Ma pouring coffee at the diner, Roxy standing outside The Carp. The last picture was of Axton. He had a gag in his mouth, his eyes wide with fear. My gaze flew from the photo to BJ.

The pictures wobbled in my shaky grip. My skin grew clammy, a wave of nausea swept over me.

His cold eyes studied me, like I was a lab specimen he couldn’t quite figure out. I think I started to blackout because he calmly stood up from behind the desk and came to stand beside me. He plucked the photos from my hand and gently pushed my head forward until it rested between my knees.

“Take deep breaths,” he said. “In and out. That’s it.”

I did as he said and bright dots sparked behind my eyes. I sat like that, breathing in and out, his hand rubbing circles along my damp back, until the dizziness passed. I took one last deep breath before lifting my head back up.

“Slowly, now,” he said, his fingers still caressing me.

I raised my arm and tried to twist away from him. “Don’t.”

Our gazes met as he slid his hand up to the back of my neck, through the tangle of wet hair. He squeezed my nape gently before he stood and walked to his desk. Behind it sat a crystal decanter filled with liquor. He poured a small amount into a matching crystal glass and brought it to me. “Drink this.”

“No, I don’t want to.” I sounded childish, but I didn’t care.

“Drink it.”

I took the glass from his hand, making sure my skin didn’t brush against his, and sipped. Whiskey. I never liked whiskey.

“Drink some more.” He retreated to his chair.

Without taking another drink, I reached forward and set the glass on the edge of his desk.

“My God, you’re stubborn.” He wore a grim expression, the brackets around his mouth seemed deeper. “I have Axton. I know where your friends and family live. I can get to them at any time. Keep your mouth shut and stop asking questions.”

My short nails dug into the padded armrests. “You really are an asshole.”

“I didn’t want to do this, but you forced my hand. And I will do whatever it takes to protect my interests.”

“What interests?”

He barked out a laugh and shook his head, staring up at the ceiling. “You are unbelievable.”

As we continued to sit there, a sense of calm detachment stole over me, as if all this was happening to someone else, like I was watching a movie. “There’s something you need to know.”

“What’s that?”

I pointed toward the file, which now lay on his closed laptop. “If anything happens to my friends or family, if anything happens to Axton, I’ll kill you.”

His gaze flickered over my face. “I believe you, Rose.” He clapped his hands. “Now we know where we stand, don’t we?” He stood up, walked to the door, and opening it, spoke to Henry. “Take her home.” BJ left the room and didn’t look back.

I was hauled out and blindfolded, then shoved into the SUV once again.

Worst. Field trip. Ever.

Henry all but pushed me out of the SUV and it spun off into the night. I stood there in the rain, watching the red tail lights disappear from view.