Authors: R.J. Harlick
T
he
tattooed man stepped behind me and tugged at the ropes.
“Ouch,” I cried out. “That hurts.”
“Your hands haven't turned blue yet, so they can't be too tight.”
“Can't you loosen them a bit? My wrists are sore.”
“Stop moving your hands.”
I held my breath as Professor moved toward Jid's chair. Hopefully the boy hadn't managed to loosen his ropes enough to be noticed. But my worry was needless, for the man walked past without so much as a glance at Jid. He shone a flashlight through the window and growled, “When is this damn snow going to stop?”
As if in answer, the house voiced its displeasure as another gust rammed against it.
After poking at the fire, he sat down beside his lover and put his arm around him. “How are you doing, P'tit Chief? You've had a rough ride.”
“The gunshot don't hurt so much anymore, but jeez, I need a fix. You sure you don't got something?” Larry pleaded.
“Just hang in there. Maybe this is a good time to quit.”
“You know I can't do that. I don't got it in me.”
“Sure you do. Remember, you didn't think you had it in you to finish high school, and yet you're almost there. No reason why you can't cure your heroin addiction. If you get through the next couple of days without the damn stuff you'll be well on the road to being drug-free.”
“If you say so, Professor,” Larry answered, barely above a whisper.
“Do they really call you Viper?” Jid asked.
“
Da
, Viper because he silent and deadly,” Slobodan answered, limping into the room. He punctuated it with a mock throw of a knife before flinging himself into the leather chair next to me. Placing his hand on my knee, he said, “I gotta get chair like this. Where you buy?”
“Please remove your hand,” I whispered between clenched teeth. Every nerve ending in my body flinched.
“Or you do what?” He let out a belly laugh while continuing to caress my knee.
Helpless to do anything about it, I looked to Professor for support, but he seemed more interested in communing with his buddy than being my protector.
“You leave her alone,” Jid said.
“Or you do what, boy?”
“Untie me and I'll show you.”
This caused an even louder crescendo of laughter. “You got balls, kid, like your aunt.”
At that moment, a loud yelp from Shoni in the kitchen had Professor standing up. “Leave the woman and the boy alone,” he said. “I suggest you move to that chair over there.” He pointed to Eric's liberally duct-taped La-Z-Boy chair, which he'd finally had to retire after the back springs gave up. Not wanting to part with it entirely, he'd shoved it into a corner until he was prepared to give it a fitting farewell.
Slobodan firmed his jaw in resistance and then shrugged and stood up. “Sure, Viper, whatever you say.” And he walked over and dropped his bulk into the chair with a loud clunk as more springs gave way.
“You had better be sitting in that chair when I return.”
I watched with dread as the tattooed man left the room. I'd never felt so exposed in my life. If only I could convince him to untie me.
“You tell me, why woman like you fucking an Injun?” Slobodan rasped.
I wanted to spit on him and shout, “Shut up, you fucking racist.” But I knew that was exactly the kind of response he wanted from me. So I ignored him and kept my eyes down, while I kept my ears peeled for Professor's speedy return.
Beside me I felt Jid tense up at the terrible insult to his hero, his friend. I willed him to remain passive too. He must've sensed it, for he did nothing other than start jiggling his leg.
“You probably like black meat too.”
“Tiger, shut up,” Larry said. “Or I'll tell Professor.”
“
Da
, he like fucking red meat too.”
I thought Larry was going to burst a vein.
Professor rushed into the room and slugged the Serbian's head sideways, cracking it against the wooden frame of the chair.
Good.
I hoped that hurt.
I tried to slink farther into my own chair while I waited for the biker to draw his gun and shoot his attacker. But Slobodan merely firmed his fists and glared back. However, if looks could kill, this one would. Neither man said a word.
The tattooed man continued to tower over the biker until the man unclenched his hands and shrugged. “Only a little fun. I do no harm.”
Yeah, right.
He'd only offended everyone in this room. I couldn't understand why the man continued to goad Professor. He knew what the response would be. So far he'd deferred to his fellow con. But for how much longer?
“Give me your gun,” Professor demanded.
Slobodan crossed his arms over his chest in refusal and jutted out his chin to emphasize the point.
“If you don't, I'll report you to the boss.”
The Serb continued to resist. Finally, he shrugged and reached behind his back, but before he could pull the gun out, Professor grabbed his elbow.
“Remove your hand. I'll get it.”
Just as well Professor couldn't see the hatred etched into the other man's face as he leaned behind him and eased out the gun.
He handed it to Larry. “I give you leave to shoot him if he insults you again.”
“But you know I don't like guns. They get me into trouble.”
“You've been very brave with this gunshot wound. I need you to remain strong for me, okay?”
Larry swallowed. “I guess.” He shoved the handgun under the blanket while I slowly let out my breath.
Like me, Jid had been afraid to move in case it diverted their rage to us. Now he visibly relaxed.
You okay?
I mouthed.
He stretched his lips into a weak smile and nodded.
“Everything gonna be okay, kid,” Larry said. “Professor will protect us.”
I dared a glance at Slobodan. He continued to slouch in the chair, jiggling his leg. He shot me a look of pure venom when he realized my eyes were trained on him. I looked away.
I had no idea how much longer Professor would be able to control this man. I only knew that I wanted to be far away from the two of them when it finally erupted. Even though it hurt my arms, I started straining on the ropes, hoping to loosen them. I noticed Jid doing the same thing.
The biker thrust himself out of the chair and limped out of the room, muttering. “We no need you, big shot. I can do it too.”
Only then did I realize Shoni was nudging my leg, wanting to be lifted onto my lap.
“Sorry,” I whispered. “You're just going to have to wait until my hands are free.”
I couldn't even bend down to kiss her on her head.
It was at that point that I felt the tears begin to well up. I'd been trying so hard to put on a brave face, but I'd reached the point where I could no longer pretend. My world had gone to hell, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. Down my cheeks they trickled.
“W
hat
's the closest town to here?” Professor asked, lifting the puppy onto his lap.
“Pardon?” I said, trying to gain some control over my emotions. I was so helpless, I couldn't even wipe the tears from my face. “Did you say something?”
“Yeah, the nearest town. What's its name?”
I took a deep breath and felt a modicum of control returning. “Somerset. You must've driven through it.”
There were only two main roads to this isolated part of Quebec, one from the west through Somerset, a once-thriving logging town, and the other from the south through the village-dotted skiing country of the Laurentian Mountains.
“We took mostly back roads. But I think I remember seeing a sign for Somerset. How far away is it?”
“About fifty kilometres.”
While I loved the remoteness of Three Deer Point, this was one time I wished the town were next door.
“In this weather, I'm guessing a good hour away,” he said.
Likely longer
, I thought bleakly.
“I assume Somerset has a police detachment.”
“Yes.”
“Hey, you're crying.” He rose from the sofa and walked over. Pulling a tissue from his pocket, he wiped the tears from my face. Surprisingly, his touch was very gentle. This only brought on more tears. He wiped those too. “Look, it's okay. I know we're not your ideal houseguests, but we'll be out of your hair in the morning, and you can get back to your normal life. Just hang in until then, okay?”
I wished with all my might that I could believe him.
He patted me on the arm and resumed his seat next to his lover. “How big a police force in Somerset?”
I tried not to glance at Jid, who must have been wondering what was going on. “I've no idea, but it's part of the Sûreté du Quebec.”
I didn't feel it necessary to mention that as the second largest provincial police force in Canada, the SQ would bring limitless resources into play to capture three escaped convicts who'd killed three guards. But they would only do this if they knew these killers had crossed the Ottawa River from Ontario into Quebec.
“Where did you cross the river? At Ottawa?” Maybe someone saw them driving through the city.
“Hardly. Like I told you, we took the back roads, staying well clear of towns.”
That meant either they took the Cumberland ferry, which was unlikely given that they would have to come face to face with someone in order to pay, or they took the only other bridge crossing the Ottawa River before it flowed into the St. Lawrence at Montreal, the Hawkesbury bridge, which would require them to drive through the rural town to get to it. But no one would've noticed them. People would be more worried about navigating safely through the blinding snow than in noticing three escaped cons driving past them.
“It's like I told you, Professor,” Larry piped up. “There's nothing close by. No way the police are ever gonna know we're here.”
“Just checking,” Professor replied.
I was surprised Larry hadn't mentioned the Migiskan reserve's tribal police, but perhaps he thought the force too small and inexperienced to be a threat. Maybe they were, but if Chief Decontie had even an inkling these killers were in the area, he would bring in every SQ SWAT team in Quebec to ensure their capture.
But Will had no idea these men were less than seven kilometres from his detachment, unless he'd heard my plea. And if he had, the SWAT teams would be converging on us even as we talked.
“So why Three Deer Point?” I asked. “There are lots of other places that are more remote.”
“We need to be close â”
Professor butted in. “He knew of the house and thought it would be a good place to hide out for a few days. That's right, isn't it, P'tit Chief?”
“Yeah, that's right.” Larry glanced nervously at me before returning his gaze to his protector. He shrugged, almost as if he were apologizing.
His actions only made me more suspicious. Close to what? Other than the Migiskan community and the odd cottage and farm sprinkled amongst the surrounding hills and lakes, there was nothing close by. Besides, few farms were occupied full-time anymore, and the cottages would be boarded up for the winter. So I had no idea what Larry could be alluding to.
Jid shifted in the chair beside me. “Can you untie me? I gotta pee.”
“You should've thought of that before, kid,” came the man's clipped response.
“I really gotta go.”
“Please, untie him,” I chimed in. “He's not going to cause you any trouble.”
“The bitch lie,” Slobodan said, stepping across the threshold. A glass of what looked to be Coke sloshed around in his hand, though judging by his smirk, I wasn't sure if something stronger hadn't been added. “The kid make plenty trouble.” He held up his hand to remind us of the bite Jid had given him.
Maybe if I were lucky, that, combined with the cut on his foot, would give him blood poisoning and he would die.
“I trust you are drinking only Coke,” Professor retorted.
The Serb shoved the glass under the other man's nose and sneered. “Smell! Only Coke.”
I was glad to see Slobodan wince when he put too much weight on his injured foot. Good, it was hurting him. I tensed as he hobbled past, expecting him to brush against me. But he ignored me and headed to the broken chair. However, instead of sitting on it, he spat on it, and then, with a challenging stare at Professor, he dropped his weight into the leather chair farthest from me.
I waited to see how Professor would respond, but he chose instead to ignore the challenge as he patted Shoni, curled up in his lap.
Jid squirmed. “Pleeease, I really gotta go.”
I tried to move my chair closer in a futile attempt to loosen the ropes around his wrists. But before I'd managed to rock it an inch, Professor was untying the boy.
“Try and escape and you know what I'll do to your auntie.”
“Yeah, I know,” Jid yelled as he fled the den. I didn't know anyone could run so fast up those stairs.
“It's been a long day. We're all tired,” Professor said. “Larry, get some shut-eye. I want one of us awake at all times. Slobo, you get some sleep too.”
“I'm hardly a threat tied up like this,” I quipped.
“I wasn't thinking of you.” His head jerked in the Serb's direction.
Was he trying to tell me that either he or Larry would be awake to ensure that monster didn't come near me?
B
y
the time Jid returned, Larry's breathing had deepened into that of sleep. Although Slobodan hadn't yet succumbed, he'd finished his Coke and sat motionless with his eyes fixed on the flickering orange of the fire. In a matter of minutes, his eyelids should close.
Professor seemed lost in his own thoughts as he idly ran his hand back and forth over Shoni's soft fur. But when Jid stepped over the loose rope and sat in the hard chair, he roused himself enough to motion for the boy to take the other leather chair. He passed him the groggy puppy. The snake-fringed mouth even managed a twist of a smile.
I hoped this meant he wouldn't hurt Jid when it finally came time for them to leave.
My arms were aching and my feet and hands were growing numb. The circulation returned after moving and stamping my feet, but with the ropes so tight, there was little I could do to bring relief elsewhere. I debated asking Professor to remove the ropes completely, or at least the one wrapped around my upper body, but decided against it. A sense of calm had finally descended on these men. I didn't want to destroy it.
While the fire continued to send out waves of warmth into the dark room, the air drifting from the hall continued to grow colder. Likely the fires in the kitchen and living room were dying down, but I wasn't about to suggest Professor leave me alone with Slobo in order to stoke them.
My poor house. I anticipated by the time the power came back on, the water pipes would be frozen. I hated to imagine the flooded mess that would greet Eric when he returned on Thursday. Jean and her family were supposed to arrive a day later, on Christmas Eve. The plan had been to put the house in the kind of pristine shape she demanded. Jid and I had only cleaned the three bedrooms they would be using before these men barged into my home. That left the four rooms on the main floor yet to do, plus the kitchen. The way things were going, that wasn't going to happen. In fact, it was likely Christmas wasn't going to happen at all.
Thursday. Only two days away, and yet it seemed like an eternity. Was that going to be the day I would learn my marriage was over? I shuddered at the thought. But maybe I would no longer be around to find out.
The outside seemed to mirror the stillness that had descended inside. I no longer heard the snow scraping against the window. Though the trees continued to moan, it was more a backdrop than a hovering threat. The house seemed to have settled down too, no longer buffeted by gale-force gusts. It was almost as if the house knew the worst was over. I wished I could say the same for the tempest brewing inside. Maybe by the time dawn crept through the window, it would be all over, one way or the other.
I sighed, shut my eyes, and tried to pretend I was lying curled up in my bed.
Something startled me. I looked around. The Serbian's head was awkwardly flopped to one side, partially resting on the back of the chair. His breathing came in intermittent snorts and whistles. The boy too had fallen asleep. He and the puppy were curled up together in the large chair. A blanket covered both of them. I felt the cocoon warmth of wool encircling me. I glanced up at Professor standing next to the fireplace. He winked. The hands on the mantel clock pointed to a quarter after two. Amazingly, I'd been asleep for several hours. With my nerves tighter than a guitar string and my body trussed like a chicken, I hadn't thought it possible. It was then I noticed that the rope was no longer tied around my chest, and the back of a leather chair had been shoved against me to keep me from toppling over.
I mouthed a thank-you.
He smiled.
What a confusing mixture of compassion and menace.
Flames licked at the fireplace grate.
“Did you stoke up the fires in the living room and kitchen?” I whispered.
He nodded. “The storm is about over. By morning it should be completely stopped.”
“And then what will you do?” I tried not to make eye contact.
“We'll get out of your life.”
For whatever reason, this time I believed him.