Dark Mysteries (25 page)

Xander
nodded. It was their best best. They could sit around in his office
twiddling their thumbs for hours, days, and turn up nothing. It was
better to get closer. He walked over to his closet, grabbing a
handful of weapons and dropping them all on the dining table. “Take
your pick,” he said, reaching for a stun gun and handcuffs.

“I'm
taking these,” Gabe said, holding up the brass knuckles, “for
sentimental reasons. I have more stuff at my office,” he said,
watching K look over the selection.

“I
prefer my hands,” K shrugged.

Xander
rolled his eyes, slipping a knife into his back pocket. “Take
something. They're going to be armed.”

K
sighed, grabbing a knife and a baton.

“Alright,”
Xander said, nodding, “let's get one of your trucks and get
going.”

They
followed him into the office, Gabe letting out a shrill whistle. “You
gotta do something about this place.”

Gabe
went in his desk, grabbing the gun and tucking it into his jeans,
ignoring the raised eyebrow K was giving him. He reached for a stash
of cash. “Fine,” he said, walking into the street and
yelling at the group of teens hanging around outside. “You're
going to sit in here and watch my office,” he told them and
watched them look at each other. He pulled out the wad of money and
waved it at them. “You don't go to school anyway,” he
said. “Clean it up. And don't leave. When I get back, you can
have this.”

“Yes,
sir,” one of them said, nodding.

“Really?”
Gabe asked as they walked into his office. “You're gonna trust
them?”

Xander
shrugged. “Nothing to steal,” Xander said, watching Gabe
go in his desk and grab keys, pepper spray, and a gun.

“Alright,”
Gabe said, locking the front door and walking them through to the
back. “Let's go.”

–

The
drive wasn't long, but passed in stony silence. Gabe drove, his eyes
fixed on the road like it required intense concentration. K sat next
to him, his eyes focused on his phone like it might ring. Like maybe
he had been wrong. Like maybe she had gotten away after all.

Xander
sat in the back, staring out the window. Trying not to think. About
her. And failing miserably.

He
wondered about the years before Nicola. What she had been like. Less
guarded, for sure. More open. Less skittish. Did she always
compulsively clean? Had she been a better communicator? Someone who
laughed easily and often?

He
wondered about the years during the abuse. How she got herself
through it. Her books? Trying to escape into different worlds?
Pretend it wasn't going on?

He
wondered about the years after her escape. How much work she had put
into her survival. Learning self-defense. Learning how to live on the
run. How lonely she must have felt. Isolated. But strong.
Independent.

And,
lastly, he wondered about her then. At that moment. Had the years
made her strong enough to get through what she was surely going to be
put through at Nick's hands? Could she bury deep inside herself and
bear it until it was over? Would she cower? Or try to fight back?

He
thought back to watching her attack Gabe, effortless, easy. Like it
was second nature.

As
much as he knew she would suffer because of it, he hoped she fought
back. He hoped she made the fucker bleed. He hoped she would gain
some kind of strength from that. And after it was done, she could
look back and know she had hurt him back in some small way.

Gabe
pulled over in front of a restaurant in a seedy area of town. It was
half a day later. Twelve hours into her abduction. Xander looked out
the window, seeing a sign that read Three Sixes and raised a brow at
Gabe.

“When
we went looking for Antony,” he explained, “we were led
here. I think it's a front. Or maybe just a place the dealers hang
out. I don't know. But we got information out of some guys here.”

“Alright,”
Xander said, reaching for his door. K was already outside, tense.
Getting his mind in line.

They
stretched their legs for a second, walking toward the entrance. Gabe
took a breath, placing a hand on Xander's shoulder. When Xander
turned, he saw the struggle on his face. “Man... I...” he
waved a hand.

And
Xander understood. Unlike him and K, Gabe needed to keep a clean
record. He worked with the courts. He couldn't have it getting around
that he was involved with beating information out of people. “Right,”
Xander nodded. “You stand here. You're just... getting some
air,” he said, “and if someone comes out, you might just
accidentally trip them,” he said, nodding to K who opened the
door. Xander watched as Gabe positioned himself in front of the door,
before turning to look around him.

It
was a bar. Of sorts. There was a small bar toward the side. There
were tables and chairs. But there were games too: foosball, air
hockey, pool table. Situated in a back corner was a huge flatscreen
television with a pile of gaming systems attached and a plush leather
couch in front of it.

“Guys,”
a voice said, coming up to them. He was average height, on the thin
side, clean cut, “this is a private establishment.”

“You
should lock the door then,” Xander commented, raising a brow.
“All kinds of trouble could waltz right in.”

The
guy sighed, a long-suffering sound. Like he was tired of something.
He held up his hands, shaking his head. “Look, I don't want any
trouble.”

“Then
you wont get any,” K said, his tone calm and completely at odds
with his tense body, “if you point us toward one of Nick
Russo's guys.”

The
guy's eyes went wide, taking a step back. “Dude, you know I
can't... that would be...”

Suicide.
It would be suicide.

“I
work for Nick Russo,” a cocky voice said, coming out from the
back room. He was young, with blonde hair, and a huge assortment of
tattoos. “Jason,” he said, inclining his head at them.

“Great,”
Xander said, smiling. An awful, sickening smile. Because he knew he
was going to enjoy this more than was normal. More than he should. He
looked over at the other guy and shrugged. “Sorry dude...
collateral damage,” he said and nodded at K.

If
he hadn't been watching so closely, he would have missed it. K's arm
swung up from his side, crushing into the man's jaw, sending his head
flying backward. He was out cold before he even started to fall
toward the floor.

“What
the fuck...” Jason said, looking between the men like he
couldn't quite comprehend what was happening. His eyes landed on
Xander last, taking in his sneer, the strange glint in his eyes.
“What are you smiling about?”

“Because
I am going to enjoy the fuck out of this,” Xander said, cocking
his arm back and swinging. His fist collided with his jaw, making his
head jerk to the side.

Jason
stumbled back a few feet, before standing and wiping blood off his
lip. “What do you want?” he asked, sounding completely
unaffected. Like he didn't feel pain.

“We
want to know where Nick Russo's house is,” K supplied, looking
like a caged animal, just waiting for his chance to pounce.

“Yeah,”
Jason said, smiling, blood in his teeth, “good luck with that,
man,” he laughed, turning to walk away.

It
was K who responded first, reaching out and grabbing Jason's arm,
pulling it behind and up his back until he cried out, falling down to
his knees.

“See
Jason,” Xander said, his voice smooth, quiet. “Nick has
something that doesn't belong to him anymore. And we are going to go
take it back from him. And you are going to help us with that.”

“Like
hell I am,” Jason spat and K pulled his arm up higher,
dangerously close to popping it out of it's socket. “Wait...”
Jason said, turning his head up to look at Xander, smirking, “is
this about that stupid bitch?” he asked, and saw the muscle in
Xander's jaw start to twitch. “Oh,” he laughed, “Nick
has a lot of plans for her. He'd kill me if I let you guys mess that
up.”

“And
we will kill you if you don't help us,” Xander said, smiling.
“Quite the conundrum.”

“Oh,
please,” Jason said, rolling his eyes, “you don't have
the balls to kill anyone.”

“Want
to bet, mother fucker?” K said, his voice deep and terrifying.
He released Jason's arm, taking a step back and landing a kick
solidly between the man's shoulder blades. Jason went flying across
the floor, slamming his face against the tile before he could even
brace himself.

Looking
at K, Xander saw something there he had missed before. Something that
K had obviously worked hard to cover up with his nice clothes, his on
the up-and-up business, his cool and collected demeanor. There was
something there, in the tense muscles, the fathomless eyes. Something
grisly and wild. Something terrifying enough to make a chill run down
Xander's spine. K had secrets. K had the kind of past that you learn
to never speak of.

And
Xander was suddenly even more thankful to have the man at his side.

“You're
only making this harder on yourself,” Xander said, watching as
Jason pushed himself up on his knees.

“Fuck
you,” Jason said, getting to his feet.

“Fuck
me?” Xander asked, laughing. Looking positively psychotic in
that moment. “Fuck me?” he asked again, lunging forward
and throwing fists. He fell back into the violence like the way you
fall back into an old lover: comfortable, giddy almost. Knowing the
sensations. Knowing all the right moves. Easy. Familiar.

He
felt K's hand on his shoulder, hard, pulling. Pulling him backward.
“We need him conscious,” K said, looking over at the
swollen face of Jason, curled over himself, holding his stomach.

Xander
took a breath, feeling the adrenaline start to slowly drain away,
bringing back his clear-head. His knuckles were broken open. Blood
covered them. His own, probably. And Jason's. How long had he been
hitting him? It had felt like seconds. Just a few wild jabs. But from
the looks of the other guy, it had been longer.

He
took a step back, looking a bit horrified. He needed to get a grip.
He was losing it. And they weren't even close to finding her yet. He
was going to fall apart or get himself killed if he didn't get
himself under control.

“Last
time, kid,” K said, moving between Xander and Jason. “You
tell me, or I'll let him finish what he started with you.”

Jason
hung his head, touching his face, running his hand over his swollen
lip. “Twenty-four fifty-two Elk Circle,” he said, his
voice a defeated whisper.

Xander
was walking toward the door, determined. They had an address. They
needed to go. Right then. He needed to save the girl.

“Yo,”
Gabe said, blocking the doorway. “I mean... I'm no expert or
anything,” he said, watching Xander closely, trying to lighten
the mood, “but I don't think you should just leave them
there... all kinds of access to phones and stuff...”

“Right,”
Xander said, turning back, walking over to the guy passed out on the
floor and hauling him up. “There's got to be somewhere in the
back we can lock them up,” he said to K, throwing the guy over
his shoulder. “Get his cell from him.”

There
was a walk-in refrigerator set to a chilly thirty-five degrees. They
collected their cell phones and pushed them inside, ripping the
emergency handle off of the inside.

“Alright,”
Xander said, taking a breath. “Let's go get our girl.”

–

They
drove in silence again for a long time, Gabe's fingers gripping the
steering wheel. Then, finally, he spoke, “I'm going in on
this,” he said, staring at Xander into the rear view.

“We
cant ask you to do that. Not with your business...”

“Screw
my business,” Gabe said, a certain sadness there. His business
was his life. It's what got him off the streets. Settled his debts.
“You're going to need me for this.”

Xander
wanted to disagree with him. Tell him that he and K could handle it.
They didn't need him to screw up his life with them. But the truth
was, they were going to need him. There was no telling what could be
in store for them inside of that house. Just Nick. Maybe. But he
could also have a small army around him.

“Okay,”
Xander said, falling back into silence. Preparing.

The
house was at the end of a cul-de-sac, situated a good half an acre
from the street. It was massive. All clean, traditional lines, newly
painted an immaculate white. There were old-fashioned looking lamps
lining the driveway. No trees or shrubs. Nowhere for an outsider to
hide. Xander was sure there were cameras. Motion sensor lights all
around.

But
they weren't trying to sneak in.

Gabe
parked on the street and the three of them climbed out of the truck,
each taking a deep breath and looking at each other. Xander nodded at
them. And as one big unit, they walked up the driveway.

They
hadn't formulated a plan. Worked out schematics. Because there was no
need. They were going in, and by any means necessary, they were
coming out with Ellie.