Brianna only heard two sets of footsteps, hers and the driver’s. Did Hicks not come along? Was he waiting in the car? Around her, she heard crickets and the air was cooler. Tall grass rustled in a light breeze.We must be higher up somewhere. No river sounds, no cars, though that might be highway traffic off in the distance. How long was I out?She didn’t think they could be too far from Lyons but she couldn’t be sure. They were definitely off the beaten path though.
Her brother had been found in a ditch in the hills west of Lyons.
Their footsteps started to echo off something in front of them. The driver stepped forward and she heard a door open. Her toe hit something and she almost fell again.
“Steps, bitch,” the driver helpfully informed her. She wanted to ask how many but she was still gagged.
Brianna moved her sandal up along the first step until she had its measure then stepped up. Twice more and she was standing on a porch. The driver pushed her forward again and a new set of arms caught her. Then she was inside somewhere that smelled stale and unused, still bound and gagged and blind. Her head hurt too, and the bandana gagging her tasted coppery. She was pretty sure it was her own blood from the punch to the face.
Another thought—it might be her brother’s old blood. This might be the place where they put him in a coma.
Nope, not going there.
Anytime you want to show up Brock, I’m good with that.
The new man turned her and shoved her down. She landed hard on a wooden chair and cried out at the acute pain shooting through her arms and tailbone. She felt a rope go around her chest and pull tight. Her legs were next.Properly trussed like Aunt Claire’s Thanksgiving turkey. The thought almost made her laugh. If they wanted any information out of her they’d better hurry before she cracked completely.
“All right, Brianna,” a different voice said, “Gag’s coming off. Scream all you want because no one will hear you. I’ll give you one freebie scream to prove it to yourself, but after that, every time you scream, a finger comes off. I don’t like screamers.”
“I do,” the driver said.
“Of course you do, Guapo.” The new guy sounded amused.
“Don’t fucking call me that.”
Someone loosened, then removed, the bandana. The blindfold stayed in place. She wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a bad one. She refused to scream and give either man the satisfaction. She had a feeling that the new guy probably liked that first scream no matter what he said.
“Very good,” he said. “So. Are you smarter than your brother?”
“Am I what?”
He chuckled. “Maybe not, huh?” The floorboards creaked as she listened to him slowly pacing back and forth. “That’s too bad, because your brother? He’s dumber than shit. He thought he could steal from us. Get high off his own supply that he was supposed to be selling for us. He should have stuck with the pot your folks sell, huh? Instead, he stopped turning over the protection money from their shop. That’s stealing from us, too. And, trifecta time—he kept some of the money he owed us from what he did sell. Real, real dumb, your brother.”
The pacing stopped directly in front of her. She smelled sweat and cologne and mint and realized his face was inches from hers before he spoke. “His dumbest, and I mean a truly, earth-shatteringly stupid move, was to deny it right here, right to my face. But we got past that lie. My associate has the busted knuckles to prove it.”
She knew who that was. The driver.
“And we’d been sogoodto your brother. Sonice. Gave him a bunch of drugs before that, all at once. But then he got stupid again and wouldn’t tell me where he hid everything. Can you imagine that? Well, maybe you can. You’re his precious twin, huh? Share all sorts of things with him, don’t you?”
“Before this week, I hadn’t spoken to him in a long time,” she mumbled.
“What’s that? You speaking without permission, huh?” Fingers squeezed either side of her chin. “You don’t do that here, either.”
Across the room, she heard knuckles crack like gunfire.
He let go of her face with a shake and went back to pacing. “You like manicures, huh? Lots of women do. Your brother though, he didn’t like his. I think we went a little too rough for him, got a little aggressive with it, took too much off the top.”
The driver snickered like he had in the car. Brianna swallowed back bile.
“But you know, in the end, it helped. Got him answering some questions. But I’m afraid it was a little late for him and he kinda died there on us.”
A full-on laugh came from the driver.
“I say kinda, because from what I hear, your brother is a regular Lazarus. Aren’t you lucky, huh?”
Brianna kept still and quiet.
He stopped pacing again. “You can answer that one. Aren’t. You. Lucky?”
