Sons of Mayhem 2 Chaser (Sons of Mayhem Novels, #2) (14 page)

Their words were not at all reassuring. Of course, they had to say that, in case Dewey was listening. They knew he was clever — he had outwitted them a couple of times already — and there could be no talk of a
plan
while we were out here. Then again, maybe they were just going to hand me over, and they were being completely honest.

“It’s been a pleasure.”

With those final words I watched the two bikers walk back to their vehicle. They clambered inside without even once looking back.

If the plan had been as they said, then Dewey would come out here, grab me and dump Red. Hopefully at that point the part they hadn’t fully explained to me would happen: Bottle would do something, and they’d get rid of Dewey and save both me and Red.

I didn’t have to wait too long, perhaps half an hour. It was long enough though, because even in the shade it was getting hot when I heard the vehicle approaching.

A car pulled up and stopped where the Sons’ panel-van had previously been parked. I knew he was there. I knew he was inside. I prayed it wasn’t him, prayed that it was Bottle, prayed that he’d put a
different
plan into effect, killed Dewey, and was now there to release me and take me away.

I stared at the vehicle, unable to see through the glass as the sun bounced glaringly off the windshield into my eyes. I still didn’t have any sunglasses.

A moment later the door opened, and he stepped out.
Him.
Dewey. Unlike me he had on a big pair of aviators, and he let out a white toothed grin when he saw me.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the runaway bride.”

I glared at him, unable to spit my contempt or hurl abuse at him. He was wearing neatly pressed jeans with a brown belt, and had a smart white dress shirt tucked in. He had the sleeves perfectly rolled up revealing his strong, lightly tanned, tattoo-less forearms. The boy-next-door was now a fully formed hunk. A fully formed hunk of shit.

The bastard came over to me and bent down, looking me in the eyes. I stared at my reflection in his mirrored glasses, as usual not recognizing who the hell I was or what the hell had happened to me.

He shook his head in disbelief and disappointment as his eyes ran over me. “They didn’t treat you right in prison, did they?” He paused as if waiting for a response, then gave a chuckle as if he was only just noticing that I was gagged. “Look at you. No lipstick, no nail polish, and your hair?” He let out a sigh. “Where’s my beautiful blond?”

I felt sick in my stomach. Where the fuck was Bottle? What was the fucking plan? Were they actually leaving me with this fruit loop?

“We’ll fix you up hon, don’t worry. Just wait until I get you home.” Despite the warmth of the morning I shuddered.

By the time he had me lying across the backseat of the car I knew there was no plan. Bottle never came.

K
aren

The way he carried me to the car sickened me. He was gentle, thoughtful, as if he had my best interests at heart. But after years of knowing and being tormented by him I knew that wasn’t the case in the slightest.

He lowered me tenderly onto the backseat of the car and gave me an apologetic half-laugh. “Sorry honey. I’d love to have you ride shotgun next to me, but it might looks suspicious. What with the tape and all?” He raised his eyebrows at me as if looking for acceptance from me — perhaps a wry smile and a little shake of the head indicating the absurdity of the situation.

I just glared at him. My mouth was covered up anyway.

“We’ll have a chance to talk soon, to fix it, to make it right. I promise.”

I wasn’t interested in his promises, much less talking to him. And “make it right”? What did that mean? What
could
it mean? Was he so delusional that he thought I could forgive him? Did he not realize I had despised him even
before
his last psychopathic act which landed me in prison and all but destroyed me?

When the car door closed my world turned black and so did my thoughts. It was obvious. There wasn’t a plan, there never had been a plan. The bikers had sold me. Bottle was a bastard. A handsome, lying, criminal bastard. How could they fucking do that to me?

Tears began to form in the corners of my eyes and roll down my cheeks and soon wracking sobs began to form deep inside, but fail to be released satisfactorily due to my gagged state. Have you ever tried to cry,
really
cry, with a rag shoved in your mouth and then taped up? It sucks.

As my body spasmed I let out a keening wail as the car started off down the potholed road.

“I’m sorry, Love,” Dewey’s voice called out from the front, “It’s a terrible road. We’ll have you untied in no time though. Don’t you worry though, Love.”

As I bounced around on the backseat a thought struck me. Where the fuck was Red? Wasn’t he supposed to have been dropped off in my place?

If the bikers actually had made a deal then Dewey should have made the trade.

Perhaps this was still part of the plan?

K
aren

“
It’s been so long my love. We’ve so much to catch up on, so much to go over. Apologies to make, stories to tell, plans to make. But there’s time, I’ve got you now, we’ve got the rest of our lives.” His eyes went bright with excitement. “Years together, Karen, decades. I’ll never let you go again, I promise. Never.”

I sat propped up in a chair, my hands and legs still secured and my face still sealed shut. It was probably a good thing. I couldn’t imagine I would say anything helpful at this point, in fact I’d probably only enrage him. I tested the bonds holding my wrists tight. Nope. Still stuck fast.

He had a look of concern on his face as he looked at me. “You were scared when they released you, right? I wasn’t there to pick you up - it would have looked bad, you know - and you just ran. My little runaway. But I chased you, I found you, and now I’m going to bring you back. People will talk, they’ll say I’m crazy to take you back. But I don’t care. I
am
crazy. Crazy about you.”

Dewey leaned forward on his chair, his hands on his knees. He looked so earnest as spoke to me, no one watching him would ever guess how sick and twisted he was. “I’m going to take you home, Karen.
Home.”

My eyes burned as I glared at him, trying to kill him with my stare. How dare he talk about going ‘home’? He had destroyed
both
of the only two homes I’d ever had. Whatever place it was he wanted to take me would be the exact opposite of what a place called
home
should be. There would be no comfort, no feeling of safety, it wouldn’t be a place you could relax. Nowhere could, not with him there.

He watched me glaring at him, and a small smile crossed his lips. “You know love, I was angry,
really angry
, when I saw you with that biker. I wanted...” he looked down, ashamed. “I wanted to
kill
you. Can you believe that?”

I raised my eyebrows at him. It didn’t surprise me in the least.

“But I tried to put myself in your mind, love. You were frightened and scared when I wasn’t there at your release, and that biker scumbag took advantage of that, right? That’s why it’s them we’re going to destroy instead.”

My head shook slowly from side to side in disbelief. Dewey seemed to be living in a kind of fantasy world. He’d think up something in his head, and then twist whatever he saw in the world to fit his crazy little belief. When he first sent me to prison I thought he was just a sadistic, controlling asshole.
Just
. Now I knew he was much worse. He was legitimately, full on, batshit, living in cloud-cuckoo-land crazy.

Dewey clasped his fingers together and held them under his chin as he leaned toward me. “I know it’s going to be emotional, but please don’t scream. Not that anyone would hear, but you know I don’t like to make a fuss!”

I gave a nod and he stood up and disappeared behind me.

“Just a minute.”

I heard him fiddling with something and then music began to play from some tinny speakers. I shuddered.

“It’s our song, love.”

Love will Tear Us Apart
rolled through the shed as I felt his clammy hands on the back of my neck as he fiddled with the tape. A moment later he tore it off. I pushed with my tongue and through vigorous effort I managed to force out the rag that had been stuffed in my mouth.

As I spat out the cloth gag I breathed in a large lungful of air. Despite my dire circumstances that moment filled me with elation - the freedom of being able to take in air through your mouth is one you really miss when it’s gone.

He walked back in front of me and sat down again, smiling at me. “I listened to it while you were away, love. Every day. Did you listen to it too?”

“No,” I whispered, my voice hoarse.

His face frowned a little. “Of course, they probably didn’t let you choose what to listen to.” He nodded to himself, satisfied with his explanation.

That wasn’t the reason of course.

I looked him in the eyes, staring at their deceitful baby blue innocence. Maybe I should play along with him a little. Maybe it would give me a chance to escape. “What,” I hesitated, nervous to be speaking to him after all these years, “what are we going to do?”

He positively beamed at the fact that I had said
we
, and not
you
. I could see the delight in his eyes, it was the same boyish glee I would see when I wore an outfit he chose, when I agreed to go somewhere he wanted, or when I agreed to do something for him in the bedroom.

“You’ve made it very difficult for me, Karen, by letting that motorcycle gang take advantage of you.” He tutted to himself, while I let out a little nod of apology and adopted an expression of guilt. “We’ve got to deal with them. There’s the two out there,” he nodded his head out the door, “then I’m going to send the others away too. Don’t worry, I’ve got it all planned out.”

Two out there? Was it Bottle and Red? What exactly was he planning to do with them, I wondered. I didn’t need to wonder long, because he decided to tell me.

“I watched the little motel escapade, of course.” He stood up and walked over to a rickety particle board table, upon which sat an expensive looking leather holdall. “Those biker bozos did even better than I thought. I was annoyed about that rough looking guy finding most of Red’s carefully placed hair, but delighted when y’all decided to burn the whole place down.”

Dewey reached a well-manicured hand inside his bag and pulled out a couple of objects. One was a USB drive, the other? “I got it
all
with my little camera. Those two hulking morons carrying the gasoline, then the idiots running out followed by smoke, and finally roaring away on those awful machines as the whole place went up in flames, along with that idiot stoner.”

Fuck. I couldn’t believe it. He had been watching and filming as Gauge and T-Bone burned the whole place down. With that footage, it would look exactly like they’d killed the guy and then tried to cover up the evidence. I’d underestimated him. Again.

“Don’t worry love, you and ‘Bottle’ weren’t on the video though, just the two dunderheads.” He gave a slight grimace. “We’ll have to dispose of Bottle and Red ourselves.”

A chill ran through me. Was he really planning on killing them, or did he have something else in mind I wondered. I stared into his eyes and I knew it was true. He really did plan on killing them. After all, why wouldn’t he, he’d already killed the motel worker, Tony. And of course there was what he did five years earlier. My heart sunk at the memory.

“What’s the matter, love? Don’t look so sad. We’ll make it all better. Get rid of these monsters once and for all. Then we’ll go home, start a family. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

I had been speechless until now, but the idea of starting a family with
him
was too much. No way, no how. No. No. No.

“Come here, love.” I said to him in a quavering voice. I had to do something, I had to stop him. This might be the only chance I’d get before he did something I’d regret.

He pulled his chair closer to me, and reached a hand out to my face. I forced myself not to yank my head back and scream when he tenderly ran his fingers across my cheek. I felt my flesh flinch under his touch but if he noticed he didn’t say anything.

“Did you miss me, love?” he asked.

I nodded a lie. I missed him like a hole in the head. He smiled when more tears rolled down my cheeks, he’d always liked it when I cried.

“Undo my hands?” I whispered, giving him an imploring look.

He nodded, and a moment later he was slicing the tape that bound me, releasing my hands. I rubbed each hand against the opposing wrist and flexed them as blood was able to more freely flow.

He stood over me shaking his head from side to side, watching me rub my wrists. “What on earth have they got you wearing?”

I raised my eyebrows at him for a moment before looking down, embarrassed. I grabbed at the fabric of the hoodie Gauge had loaned me, pulling it away from my body before releasing it again. He liked me in pretty dresses, and didn’t approve of anything too casual or too comfortable. “I was cold. They gave it to me to wear, my other clothes are gone now. I’m sorry,” I said softly.

“Don’t be sorry. We’ll have you back in a dress in no time.”

I nodded up at him. “Come here.”

When he leaned down I knew that this was my chance. This would be the best opportunity I’d get to disable him and make an escape attempt. I knew my chances were slim, he was much bigger and stronger than me, but I hadn’t wasted my time in prison. I’d worked out in there, hitting the “gym” when I could, otherwise doing push-ups and squats in my cell, every repetition fueled by hatred for the man who was now leaning over me. The man who was so obsessed with the idea of us being together that he believed I would forgive all he had done to me.

I was stronger than I’d ever been, and the rage and adrenaline flowing through my arteries was a cocktail of potential violence just waiting to be unleashed.