Snow Blind-J Collins 4 (40 page)

I rolled up, concentrating on the pain of the rocks from the gravel road digging into my kneecaps and not the fear causing my whole body to shake.

“Let’s do something fun.” To the unseen woman off to the left Jackal said, “Is there a camera on her phone?”

“Yep.”

I didn’t have a camera on my phone. Wait. The phone Big Mike gave me did. She hadn’t grabbed my 419

phone. She’d grabbed the one I’d tossed in the seat.

“Figure out how to work it.” Jackal hunkered down in front of me. “Which number is his? Don’t lie to me, it’ll just make it that much worse on you.”

“Listed as TM.” Jackal’s stench, pot smoke, greasy skin, dirty hair, surrounded me, but I didn’t look at him.

Until he bunched my ponytail in his fist and jerked my head up, holding the gun to my temple.

“Pay attention.”

“What do you want?”

“See, your old man took something that don’t belong to him. I want it back. And you’re gonna help me get it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jackal yanked me closer by the hair and the gun gouged my skin. “I’m sure you don’t, ’cause he keeps you outta his business. But Mr. Big Shot is fuckin’ around with me. So now, I’m gonna fuck around with him.”

He didn’t bother to turn his head when he yelled at the woman, treating me to a sour blast of his booze and gar-lic-laced breath. “Got that camera figured out yet?”

“Yeah. Snapped a nice shot of you pulling her hair. Want me to send it?”

“He does have a thing for your hair, don’t he,
blondie
? Maybe afterward I oughta scalp you as a souvenir for him. So he’ll never forget you.”

Oh, Jesus. Jackal was going to kill me and take pictures of it and send them to Martinez. Tony would go berserk. Not only because he couldn’t save me, but 420

because no one else could save me either. No knights riding to my rescue this time since I’d made Big Mike call off my security detail.

Three days ago.

Was this about Nyla? The something Martinez supposedly took? Tony knew nothing about that. If I told Jackal the truth would it buy me time?

Doesn’t matter. You’re dead or worse anyway.

“Hands behind your back. Like you’re gonna bob for apples. ’Cept it ain’t apples you’re gonna be bobbing on.”

The woman neighed like a horse.

My throat tightened against nausea.

Jackal rose to his feet, still holding my hair. “Come here, bitch, close as you can get.” He yanked my head and smashed my face into his crotch, keeping the gun aimed at my temple.

I gagged. Tears poured from my eyes.

Wake up wake up wake up.

He ground the bulge behind his zipper across my mouth. “Take the fuckin’ picture. Another. Get a close-up of my face so he knows how much I’m enjoy-ing this.”

I pulled my lips inside against my teeth, hating to have any part of me touching this piece of filth.

“Got ’em. Which one should I send first?”

“Send them all to him. We’ll see which one he likes best.”

I quit breathing. Maybe I could make myself pass 421

out. Maybe it’d take away some of Jackal’s fun.

He flung me away like a used blow-up doll.

I fell, turning my head until my lips brushed the dirty snow, and retched. My stomach was empty, but I couldn’t stop the dry heaves.

Triggering my gag reflex pissed Jackal off. He kicked me again. This time in the middle of my back.

I gasped. Snow snakes drifted into my mouth.

“Keep it up, cunt, and the next picture I take of you blowing me
won’t
be fake.”

I gritted my teeth, focusing on the pain in my spine.

“This is a cool cell phone, Jack. You should buy me one like this. I could send you naughty pictures of me.”

“Shut up, Trina, and give me the goddamn

phone.”

Trina. No wonder her voice sounded familiar. I’d worked with her at Bare Assets a few months back.

In addition to being a shitty cocktail waitress, Trina was a drug addict. But I never would’ve guessed she’d thrown in with Jackal, especially after he’d set her up to take the fall if a drug bust would’ve gone down in Bare Assets during my short stint.

Maybe she didn’t know. If I told her would it make her turn on Jackal so I could get away?

No.

Something else occurred to me. Big Mike said they’d figured out who the shooter was and how the 422

shooter had been able to get to Martinez so quickly.

Shame on me. I’d assumed it’d been a man.

I lifted my head and looked at her. “Did you shoot Martinez?”

“Fucker deserved it for what he did to Jack. I wish Jack would’ve let me kill him instead of just wound-ing him.”

The cell phone rang and my heart rate doubled.

Jackal answered: “Like the pictures? No? Trina is crushed you don’t appreciate her artistic ability. Does that mean you want us to redo them? With a little more realism this time?”

My gag reflex threatened again.

“No? Your loss.” Jackal trained his gun at me as Martinez talked. “Why? Not a death wish. You have something of mine; now I have something of yours.

Sure. I’m willing to trade.” He jerked his head at Trina and she sauntered over to me. He made the “get her on her feet” gesture with the gun. “No dice. Because you’ll fuck me over if I don’t retain a little leverage.

No. She ain’t worth it.”

Leverage? An even exchange. Me for Nyla? I shuddered to think which one of us wasn’t worth leveraging.

“You listen to me. Here’s the deal: I’ll give you one, but not both. You knew she did it, huh? Well, get whatcha pay for.” Jackal beckoned Trina forward.

I willed the blood to stop whooshing in my ears so I could hear Tony’s voice one last time.

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“Now ain’t the time to threaten retribution.”

Jackal took two steps. “Really? I’m shocked. But not so fuckin’ shocked that I’ll let you choose. No, I get to play God today,
hombre
.”

Jackal lifted the gun and sited my forehead. I’d been shot before so I knew it’d hurt. But I wouldn’t give this fucker the satisfaction of squeezing my eyes shut.

Then he swung the gun at Trina and pulled the trigger six times.

She screamed.

I screamed. Her blood sprayed across my face before she crumpled to the earth at my feet and I tasted her blood on my lips.

Jackal pointed the gun at me again and made the

“quiet” signal with his finger across his lips, his crazy eyes locked to mine.

I didn’t make another sound.

“Shut the fuck up, Martinez. I’m givin’ you a chance. Find the one who’s alive. I’ll leave them both here. For shits and giggles, I’m taking the coats. Since you’re a college boy, good with numbers, try to figure out how long the survivor will last with the windchill.

Don’t try tracking this phone because I’m taking it with me and ditching it first chance I get. I’ll be in touch.”

Jackal hung up. He shoved the cell in the pocket of his filthy cargo pants and eliminated the distance between us.

I didn’t have the energy to cringe. My ears rang 424

from close-range gunfire. I was absolutely fucking numb with fear. This man redefined
monster
. I just wished I would be around to see what torture Tony in-flicted before he allowed Jackal to die.

I couldn’t help but look at Trina. Her eyes were open. Her mouth was slack with death. Blood spread across her chest like her heart exploded upon impact.

Looked like wild animals had torn out her throat.

How had she managed to scream?

“Why did you kill her?”

“She was as good as dead anyway.” Jackal pressed his nose to mine, and again the sour odor of his mouth and skin and soul made my flesh shrivel with revulsion. “What do you think the Hombres would’ve done with her once they found her, huh? Let her go? Trust me, they would’ve found her eventually. No matter what.”

I didn’t move.

“Do you think they woulda talked to her? Asked her why she had anger issues? Do you think they’d understand why she opened fire on their leader? No.

The Hombres don’t talk; they act. They’d rape her, then beat her, then rape her some more before they started torturing her. I’ve seen it before. Hell, I’ve
done
it.”

My throat hurt with the need to swallow, but I couldn’t.

“No way would they’ve let her live. She signed her own death certificate when she shot at Martinez.

425

Trina served her purpose. Me killin’ her fast like that was the least I could do for her. It was the . . . humane thing to do.”

Humane? Fucked-up logic for sure, but I didn’t dispute his rambling.

He grinned nastily. “And blowin’ holes in her was worth hearing calm, cool, and collected El Presidente lose his fuckin’ mind when he heard the shots. That’s just a personal bonus for me, with him thinkin’ I killed you. With him freakin’ out about what he’ll find when he does eventually find you out here in the middle of fuckin’ nowhere. You’re dead, too. You know that, right?”

I nodded.

Jackal dangled a pair of handcuffs. “Take off your coat. Get on your knees.”

I threw my wool coat on the ground. “Are you gonna kill me?”

“Not with the gun. But if I stuck around you’d probably beg me to shoot you. Ain’t gonna be fun freezin’ to death, which is why I didn’t shoot you. I want you to endure pain. I want you in agony before you finally die. I want Martinez to see how you suffered and to have to live with the fact he didn’t get to you in time.”

I thought of Vernon Sloane for the millionth time.

Dying alone. Did he wonder who’d find him? I knew who’d eventually find me.

“Get on your knees down by the trailer hitch.

426

Hold out your right arm.”

I did.

Jackal snapped one cuff around my wrist and the other one around the ball hitch. He tugged hard. Satisfied I couldn’t get loose, he straightened and grinned maniacally. “It’d almost be worth it to see Martinez’s face when he sees you as you really are: a frigid fuckin’

blonde with ice in her veins.”

I shivered so hard the chain on the cuffs clattered.

I heard his footsteps fading, half-afraid he was taunt-ing me and planned on shooting me in the back of the head at the last minute. My whole body convulsed and didn’t stop even after he’d climbed in his Blazer and sped away.

Don’t look at her.

But I knew if I closed my eyes I’d fall asleep or drift off into that dreamy state of cold nothingness like I’d been in when I’d stumbled through the blizzard at the ranch.

Guess Dad wouldn’t have to worry about me spill-ing DJ’s secret.

Guess Kim wouldn’t have to worry about me ruin-ing her wedding day.

Guess Tony was right. I needed a goddamn 427

bodyguard.

I had no illusions about how this scenario would play out. No chance for rescue. I’d made sure of that by insisting I didn’t need help, coddling, or protection.

It was too late to admit to Tony, or to anyone else, that I did need protection. Mostly from myself and my own stupid pride.

Jesus. I never learned from my mistakes.

Yes, you learned one thing. You told Martinez how
you felt about him.

It’d be cold comfort when he stared at my lifeless body.

God. It would ruin him. I knew that. If the situation were reversed it would destroy me.

I started to cry. I didn’t want to die. Not like this.

At least when I’d had the showdown with Leticia at Bear Butte, my death would’ve had meaning. A sense of purpose. A twisted nobility. Vengeance served cold.

Right now I had nothing but a truckload of regrets.

Sobs racked my body with such violence I felt I was being electrocuted. Tears froze on my face. I jerked and tugged on the handcuffs trying to get free.

Maybe if I twisted it I could make the metal edge sharp enough to cut my hand off. Better to live with one hand than to die with both.

I screamed until my throat was raw. The cries mixed with the shrieking wind and vanished into the white sea of barrenness.

Not fair. Not fair. Not fucking fair!

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I wished I had a do-over. I wished I would’ve turned right after leaving the ranch. I wished I would’ve stayed and talked to Trish. Or to Brittney. I wished I would’ve called Martinez, Kevin, Jimmer, the sheriff, anyone, so someone knew where the hell I was.

Might as well wish for a pair of bolt cutters while
you’re at it.

I went utterly still.

Whoa. Wait a second.

I slowly lifted my head. Icy wind rippled through my hair. I squinted at the lumps in the snow-covered truck bed.

Jimmer’s voice:
Don’t you ever clean this shit out?

My answer:
You never know when you might need
something.

Like bolt cutters.

I quit breathing. I had a pair of bolt cutters. Recently.

But when?

Never. This is an illusion.

No. I used them for something.