Bound by the Past (25 page)

Carrying the injured woman, he sighed with relief when he realized Jon had finished emptying his side and was working his way back toward him. He could vaguely make out a few more women rushing away from him toward the back stairs. They reached the last room together and he held tight to the injured woman as Jon opened the door.

Both of them were dismayed to find Sammy kneeling in the middle of the room.

“Fuck,” Jon muttered.

The man was a brutal fighter. Night was well aware they were no match for his strength. So much for their great escape. Even if they managed to outrun Sammy, he would report their flight and the guards would be on them before they made it two steps across the grounds.

Sammy rose slowly when he saw them at the doorway, but made no move to attack. His gaze seemed locked on the young woman in his arms.

“Is she dead?” he asked, and for the first time in his life, Night detected a bit of emotion in the old man’s voice.

“Not yet,” Night replied. “But she’s in bad shape.”

Sammy took a step toward them but he halted when they both recoiled a step. Night was struggling to figure out why Sammy hadn’t sent up the alarm yet. One yell from him and they would all be locked up in a matter of minutes.

“Her name is Becky. She was nice to me.” Sammy’s voice seemed childlike.

“This woman was nice to you?” Jon asked, pointing toward the bundle in his arms.

Sammy nodded sadly. “I’ll get her away from here. Mistress hurt her. She didn’t need to punish her for talking to me. Mistress should have punished
me
. It was my fault. My f-fault.” Sammy’s voice broke on the last word.

Night merely nodded when Sammy approached him and reached for the battered woman. The hulking giant gently pulled the woman into his arms, clasping her to him as one might hold a newborn kitten. Without another word, Sammy turned and walked toward the back door. Before mounting the stairs, the man crouched down and removed a loose stone. Night and Jon stared at each other in silent amazement. Neither of them realized there was a hiding spot beneath the floor. Sammy reached in and Night was amazed how easily the man could handle the woman’s weight with just one arm. Sammy was exactly as he remembered—a brick wall.

Slowly, Sammy pulled out three handguns as well as extra clips. “You’ll need these,” he grunted as he slid the stone back into place. Night and Jon each took one and Night started to hand the third gun back to Sammy once he rose and positioned the woman more securely in his grasp, but the giant shook his head. “I don’t know how to shoot a gun.”

Night thought back to all of Sammy’s years as Rex’s right-hand man and he realized he’d never seen the massive guy with a gun in his hand. Of course, Sammy’s fists were the size of basketballs so maybe he’d never needed one.

Sammy continued up the back stairs.

“He’s all the evidence we need.” Jon gestured toward the man as they quickly rushed to join the rescued victims. “He’s been with Cassandra since she began this latest crime spree. He could turn state’s evidence against her.”

Night nodded, trying to process Jon’s words but unable to think beyond the next few moments. If they could get this group of naked, bruised women off the compound without attracting notice, it would be a miracle. Of course, then the real trouble would begin. It was late November and already bitterly cold on the mountain. Fuck—they’d all freeze to death in the predawn air.

Jon must have sensed his concerns. “There is no way we can stay and fight. There are too many women to protect and not enough weapons. Don’t worry. I have a feeling Reilly will come through.”

“You think he’s watching?” Night hadn’t even considered the idea that Reilly would have eyes and ears outside the compound. In their original plan, they’d decided it would be too dangerous for Reilly to try to position operatives around the perimeter of the retreat this soon. If Cassandra caught even a whiff of outside interference, they’d feared what she would do to the women.

Jon nodded. “When has the man ever done anything we expected him to?”

Night shrugged. He suspected Jon’s response was based more on hope than conviction. Climbing the remaining stairs, they walked outside together.

Night was relieved to find Carly, Sammy and the women all huddled against the wall behind a bush. They were well out of view of the guards on the roof, who would easily spot them in the gray light as dusk approached. Carly had her arm wrapped around a young girl Night vaguely recognized as Trisha Jackson from her school photo. The girl was naked and shivering and he spotted a few bruises on her face and arms, but other than that, she seemed to be okay.

Night quickly scanned their surroundings, trying to figure out the best way off the compound. There weren’t many trees between the building and the perimeter fence. Rex had clear-cut all of them years ago in an attempt to keep security tight. During the past two decades, only scrub brush had flourished, and not enough of it to hide their group of two men, one giant and eight naked, shivering women.

A loud shout from the dungeon alerted him to the fact that their escape had been discovered.

“Fuck,” Jon muttered behind him. “Keep against the walls of the building,” he whispered loudly to the women. “Once we get to the west end of the property, Night and I will draw the guards’ fire. Sammy, you and Carly will continue around the building. Head to the north side. There are more trees at the entrance and the fence is lower. Sammy, you’ll have to help the women over. Can you manage that with her?” Jon gestured to the unconscious woman Sammy carried.

Sammy nodded and quickly led the women around the building. Only Carly remained behind. “I’m staying with you.”

There were more shouts inside the compound. If they didn’t move soon, this escape would be over before it began.

“We don’t have time to argue, Carly,” he whispered harshly.

“Then don’t.”

Before Night could chastise her further, she started toward the west side of the building.

He glanced at Jon, who merely shrugged. “We’ll beat her ass when we get her home.”

Night nodded, but silently his mind added the words
if we get her home
.

As they turned the corner to the west wall, Jon spotted Sammy well ahead and approaching the small grove of trees near the front of the building. Once all the women disappeared around the corner, he nodded to Night.

It was do-or-die time. Jon started to move away from the wall, but was surprised when Night grabbed him back with a firm fist on his arm.

“Jon, we need a plan, dammit. You can’t just run out there with guns blazing.”

The adrenaline was rushing through his system so aggressively he could barely remember his own name. All of his energy was focused on getting the three of them off this compound. He was suddenly struck by the memory of his last escape nearly fifteen years ago. In all the years since then, he’d never remembered anything from the time Sarah was killed until he was in Reilly’s Blazer heading down the mountain.

Now the memories flooded his mind. After Sarah died, Night had found him, out of his mind and rambling around the dungeon. He’d been covered in Sarah’s blood. Jon had wanted to stay and throw himself in front of the first bullet he could find, but Night refused to leave him. His friend literally dragged him kicking and screaming from the compound.

By God, this time, nothing would stop him from rescuing Carly.

He reached into the waistband at his back and pulled out the extra pistol Sammy had given them. He handed it to Carly. She knew how to use it because he’d taken her to the shooting range loads of times in the early days of their friendship. She’d been afraid sleeping in her house alone after the divorce and he’d convinced her to take a handgun safety class before buying a gun for herself. She’d taken to shooting like a duck takes to water and they’d spent one Saturday a month doing target practice ever since.

She smiled at his gesture. “Thanks Jon.”

“Just don’t shoot us,” Night grumbled.

Jon savored the sound of her light laughter. How she could laugh at a time like this was beyond him. Hell, he thought, she really was made for them. Here she was, facing danger and death, and she was still laughing at their silly jokes and saying “thanks” because he gave her a damn weapon.

“We’re going to have to make a break for it. This is the spot where the distance between the building and the fence is the shortest, but there are no trees for cover. We’re going to have to cover each other. Night, you go first while Carly and I draw their fire from here. Once you make it, I’ll send her across. With you firing from the fence and me from here, she should be doubly protected. Carly, you’re going to have to run like hell.”

He glanced back toward the north wall of the building. Hopefully the fact that none of the guards were firing in that direction meant Sammy and the women had made it off the compound undetected.

Of course, it could also mean that Sammy had betrayed them and led the women right back in the front door. He shook his head at the thought. Sammy wouldn’t have armed them if he wasn’t serious about helping them escape.

“I always said the only way I’d take up running is if someone was chasing me with a knife.”

Jon grinned at Carly’s familiar joke. “Actually, I seem to recall you saying you stood a better chance at surviving if you played possum.”

She joined him in silent laughter while Night scowled and looked for the guards on the roof. “Where the hell are they? You realize there isn’t a damn thing funny about any of this. Can we get her the hell outta here and then make jokes?”

They started moving away from the wall, all of them scanning the woods, looking for the best place to run.

“Don’t worry, Night,” she whispered her reassurance. “We’ll be fi—” Her word was cut off by a sudden gasp.

“Actually, I think we should give the knife idea a try.”

Jon turned quickly, pointing his gun in the direction of his mother’s voice. A quick glance to his left proved Night was also aiming at her.

The sight of Carly trapped within Cassandra’s grasp caused Jon’s heart to stop beating. His mother had a knife pressed against Carly’s neck. His throat constricted at the sight.

Just like Sarah…

“What the fuck?” Night mumbled.

“Oh, didn’t you boys know about this old door here?” Cassandra’s voice was shrill in her anger. “I have to admit it came in quite handy. One of the guards on the roof glimpsed you here and radioed your location to me. Quite fortunate, although I must admit, I’m disappointed in you. You left just as the party was about to get started.”

“Yeah well, no offense, but your party sucks.” Carly’s calm, if impatient voice broke through Jon’s escalating panicked state. Carly was studying him closely. She knew about Sarah, could see him struggling not to lose the tenuous control he had on his emotions. He fought like hell to keep his hand from shaking. His mother would love to see him frightened, but he couldn’t seem to stem the flow of images inundating his brain.

Just like Sarah…

Cassandra seemed furious by Carly’s lack of fear. “Well, I’m sorry to bore you, my dear. Don’t worry. This time I intend to finish the job. I underestimated the three of you.”

Night and Jon kept their guns pointed at Cassandra but with Carly positioned in front of her, they would never be able to fire off a shot.

A loud bang from the front gate distracted Cassandra for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure and turned her attention back to them. “Where are my slaves?”

“Sammy is leading them all to freedom as we speak.” Night smirked as he answered. Jon watched Cassandra pale at his words.

“Sammy would never betray me.” Yet even as Cassandra spoke, Jon noticed the flicker of doubt in her harsh features.

“If you say so.” Night’s disrespectful answer sent his mother into a tirade. Jon had to force himself not to turn around and kick his friend’s ass. If he wasn’t careful, he’d provoke Cassandra into hurting Carly with his smart mouth.

“How dare you speak to me in that manner.”

“I think it’s about time somebody put you in your place.” This time it was Carly’s wayward tongue working against them all.

Christ, neither of them had any idea what that wicked blade could do. He’d witnessed Sarah’s murder in just such a manner and he knew without a doubt he’d turn his gun on himself if Cassandra killed Carly that way. He couldn’t survive without her.

“You obnoxious, rude bitch!” Cassandra was seething now, but Carly and Night merely laughed.

It was then Jon saw why they weren’t using more caution. Carly had managed to conceal her gun from Cassandra and was slowly moving the weapon into position. Cassandra was too distracted by her own fury to notice Carly’s subtle movements.

Once the gun was pointed back at Cassandra, Carly froze and looked at him. Her gaze seemed troubled, worried—and it was then Jon realized she was asking his permission.

Jesus, Cassandra had a knife at her throat, ranting and raving, calling her all sorts of hateful names, and Carly was more concerned about how he would feel about her shooting his mother.

Nodding slightly, he wasn’t prepared for the noise of the weapon as it discharged.

Cassandra shrieked in pain.

Carly used the moment of surprise to her advantage. Quick as a mouse, she pushed Cassandra’s arm away, running toward him. Blood ran down his mother’s leg. Because of the awkward position, Carly’s bullet had merely grazed her thigh.

Carly was only halfway to him when he remembered his mother’s knife-throwing ability. He watched in horror as Cassandra raised the sharp weapon, menacing fury distorting her lovely features into something grotesque and horrible.

Jon tried to yell, but the words clogged his throat as he realized he wouldn’t be able to reach Carly in time.

The events surrounding him seemed to move in slow motion and the world went silent as he watched, spellbound and frozen. Night fired as Cassandra drew back her arm.

His mother glanced down at her bleeding chest in shock as the knife fell from her limp fingers. Cassandra raised her stunned gaze to Night and collapsed to the ground.