Page 62 of Wicked Shadows
“Have you been here the entire time?” Katrina whispered and walked with her to the brown metal chairs.
“Yes. Is anyone even looking for me anymore?” Tears welled up in Carrie’s eyes, and her voice broke on her last word. Katrina didn’t have the heart—or the time—to tell her no one suspected foul play in her case. Widespread rumors of her repeat drug and alcohol addiction just weeks before she went missing provided more than enough of a cover story to explain her absence.
The older man began speaking, drawing their attention to him and the empty chair beside him. “Ladies, I’ve brought you down here to ensure we understand each other. As long as you obey my rules, you are free to roam to any unlocked area of the house. I know you didn’t reach your current star status because you played by the rules, so I’m sure at least one of you will try me. In fact, I understand one of you has already tried to escape, so I’ll give you a demonstration of what happens when someone pushes me past my limit.”
The man dressed in black leather, the one who sprayed Elle’s face the night she attempted her escape, stepped into the room. He had another man with him—gagged, bound, and blindfolded. He directed the man’s steps to the empty chair, forcefully shoved him down onto the chair, and removed his blindfold.
Still unable to speak, the man’s frightened gaze darted around the room, searching for someone to help him. He made direct contact with each woman, using his eyes to plead for help. The black plastic shrouding the room only added to his frantic behavior, and he attempted to stand. The rough man in black halted his movement with a firm hand on his shoulder, pushing him back down.
“This man has been a member of my private parties for many years. I’ve trusted him enough to allow him into my home. He’d been welcome, until I learned he’s been running his mouth to others, boasting about his status with me, and revealing private details he swore to secrecy.
“To show you how seriously I value my personal affairs, you will watch what happens to those I consider to be a traitor. Spider.” He nodded to the man in black. “You’re up.”
The older man stepped out of the way, but he stayed close to the women to ensure they didn’t look away. The gagged traitor grunted loudly, obviously trying to beg for his life or explain some misunderstanding. The man’s cries had no effect on Spider as he leveled the gun against the traitor’s temple.
“Do not look away,” the older man reminded sternly.
“Any last words?” Spider asked mockingly. “Oh, that’s right. You can’t speak. Guess not, then.”
The man yelled, his gaze locked on to Elle’s, begging for her to intervene on his behalf. Before she could murmur a word, a loud noise rang through the room. In slow motion, she watched matter spray from the opposite side of the man’s head while a single stream of blood ran down the entrance side. Spider returned his gun to its holster, an amused sneer covering his face while he watched the man slump to one side, lifeless.
Gasps followed by muffled cries filled the room, each woman afraid to make too much noise and call undue attention to herself. Elle couldn’t cry and she couldn’t breathe. Her lungs seized in her chest, refusing to cooperate and do their job.
“This is what happens to those who disappoint me. Spider has no problem killing them—in fact, I think he prefers it. If you try to escape in any way, you will be stopped. But one of your silver screen sisters will die in your place while you watch.”
That visual prompted Elle’s body to inhale sharply, reminding her lungs of their intended function a little too well. Her rapid breaths on top of her racing heart pushed her closer to hyperventilation. The older man walked over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders.
“Calm down, Elle. Take deep breaths and clear your head. As long as you cooperate, everything will be fine. You’ll have nothing to worry about at all.”
The butler returned to escort the ladies upstairs, locking the basement door behind him. That was one door Elle didn’t mind being forbidden from entering again.
“You may return to your rooms or any other unlocked room. The kitchen is always open and well-stocked with anything you may need. You have nothing and no one to fear if you adhere to the instructions. My employer has strict rules about that, and none of his associates will cross the line.”
Elle ushered the others into her room, away from anyone else who may be watching or listening. She stood on the threshold, watching for their captors, and spoke quickly in hushed tones. Her voice quivered and her hands shook, but she knew they only had two alternatives. Have a nervous breakdown and let them win, or pretend they didn’t just witness a man get shot in the head in front of them so they could focus on an escape plan.
“Listen. There’s no way they’ll let us go unharmed. Whatever their plans are for us are obviously bad, or we wouldn’t be here at all.” Her voice broke, and she pressed the back of her hand against her lips. “When he said we had nothing to fear—that was just to placate us. But I do believe if one of us runs, they’ll kill one of the others. So we have to go together. No one gets left behind.”
“When? How?” Katrina’s eagerness surged through her posture, readying herself to run at that moment. Carrie’s apprehension was equally as obvious when she shrank back and wrapped her arms around her midsection. Beth jumped to her feet, prepared to fight the devil and rescue herself.
“As soon as we can safely do it together. We can’t wait too long, though. It’s time we start checking out the house thoroughly and find anything of use.”
* * *
Shadow spentthe first week in his service-station apartment setting up his legal and illegal businesses, letting his beard grow out, and brooding in his anger and hatred toward the ones who took Elle. Through his contacts, he set up a collection of small arms to sell in backroom deals. The sooner his name became established, the sooner Nick could get him inside.
With the service bay door open, he sat on a mechanic’s chair, working on a customer’s bike Jack had thrown his way. It was a simple job he could do blindfolded—a meaningless task to busy his hands and legitimize his business. He sensed the presence of another person before he lifted his eyes. He’d memorized the faces and names of every major player in the Devil’s Dominion motorcycle club. There was no denying who approached him.
Spider Skull—the club secretary. The one who kept the membership list, the bylaws, the club rules, and the appointment book for every club officer. The one who knew the comings and goings of everyone—where they were, who they met with, and why. He had every piece of information and correspondence on the club members—the epitome of a field asset.
But he wasn’t the sergeant at arms.
So why is he here?
“I heard this old place was in business again.” Spider walked into the garage and looked around, like he belonged there as much as Shadow did.
“Word travels fast, then, since it’s only been a week.”
“I have friends who keep me updated on things of interest around here.”
