FORCE: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (73 page)

Lexi

Ingrid's sobs had subsided.  That was good.  "Now take a deep breath," I told her, my voice muffled through the dark hood.

She gave a panicked gasp.  "I can't...get any air."

"Yes you can," I encouraged her, ignoring my own claustrophobia.  With each breath, the fabric of the hood pressed against my face.  I tried to listen to my own words and regulate my own breath as I pressed up against her, grateful at least that our kidnappers had thrown us into the same small space.  "Just try to slow it down, okay?" I said to both of us.  "Just try to breath normally."

I leaned away from her for a second, swinging my tied hands around.  My fingertips brushed a concrete wall that scraped my knuckles.  So we were in a basement.  Maybe.  Maybe a vault.  What little air I could get into my lungs was cool and damp and smelled of mildew.  "Ingrid honey?" I asked, pressing against her again.  "Can you reach out your hands? Tell me if you feel a wall."

She moved sharply and then cried out.  "It's right fucking there," she sobbed and I felt her rubbing her hands together miserably.

"Okay, honey, I want you to slide over so your back is against that wall okay? You'll feel better with something to lean on." And I needed to know where I was, even if I couldn't see shit through this infernal hood. 

"I can't move," she wailed.

"Yes you can, they only tied our ankles.  Just slide your butt over a little, okay?"

She shuffled over, sniffling all the while.  When she left my side, I felt a twinge of horror.  I wanted her to stay near me.  Blind to my surroundings, it felt good to be pressed up against someone familiar, even if she was nearly paralyzed with fear.

But I needed to move.  Even if this was futile, I still needed to have a sense of what was going on.  The men who had come into Ingrid's apartment had moved so fast we had barely seen them.  And the ski masks over their faces were even worse.  I had screamed, only once before I felt the gun against my temple.

"Hush your mouth, little girl." The man's breath was rank and he spoke with a slight accent, rolling his Rs.  "One more scream and that's it."

And then the hood had been thrown over my head and the world was black.

I was ready to scream as soon as we hit the lobby, but we must have gone down the service elevator, because the next thing I knew the cold air hit me for just a moment before I was flung into the trunk of a car.  Ingrid landed on top of me, knocking the air from my lungs and then the blackness was total as whoever held us closed the trunk and banged on it twice.  Ingrid screamed as the car started to move.

I tried to keep my wits about me by counting the number of turns we made.  If we were behind Ingrid's building, then we must be headed north.  I kicked the trunk at every stop, screaming for someone, anyone to hear us.  "One left, one right, the sound of a bus, another right, stop sign...." it all jumbled in my brain and I couldn't keep track anymore.

But now we weren't moving anymore and alone as far as I could tell.  Tentatively, I leaned forward, swinging my bound feet under me and rocking forward on my knees.  I lost my balance and fell forward heavily, catching myself painfully with my elbows.  I gritted my teeth and tried not to cry out in pain.  I didn't want to upset Ingrid any more.

"Lexi?" she panted.

She wasn't calling me Delaney anymore, I thought wildly.  She's losing it.  "I'm fine, Ingrid. I'm right here."

Shimmying forward, I half slid, half crawled on my elbows, until my hands brushed up against the wall.  "Okay, this room isn't that big," I called to Ingrid. 

"You're too far away," she moaned.

"I'm right here." The exertion was making me breath harder, sucking the fabric of the hood closer around my nose.  I knelt back and lifted my arms, trying to catch it between my elbows and pull it free.  When I succeeded in moving the hood forward enough on my head to grant me a pocket of air, I exhaled in triumph.  "Okay," I said, half to myself, half to Ingrid.  "Okay I can do this."

Sliding back on to my elbows, I shimmied my knees over until my left side was pressed against the wall.  This was my reference point.  I slid along like a blind slug. running my hands along the wall, feeling for something, what I didn't know.  A door, mostly, but barring that a jagged piece of wall that could loosen my bonds. 

When I reached the corner without feeling anything.  I turned.  "Small fucking room," I gritted.  "I think we're in an old storage closet of some kind.

Ingrid's only answer was a soft moan.  I resumed my sluglike exploration, sliding myself along until I bumped into Ingrid.  "Sorry honey."

"Stay right here?"

I fumbled for her hands and clapped them between mine. Her bonds seemed tighter than mine did.  "Hang on honey, I'm going to find a way out of this."

I slithered over her and resumed my exploration.  At the next corner, I sighed.  "There has to be a fucking door somewhere," I snarled.  "They didn't throw us in a fucking pit or something."

I heard Ingrid shuffle and sit up.  "The door was made of concrete or something too, I think," she ventured.  "I banged my head against it when they were throwing us in here and it fucking hurt."

I let out a whoosh of breath.  "Good girl, Ingrid," I said encouragingly.  "That's really helpful."  So I might not be able to feel the difference with my hands.  I decided to feel for gaps around the floor instead.

I resumed sliding, letting my fingers search for any variation in the concrete.  When they slipped into a small space, barely wide enough for my pinkie, I sucked in my breath.  "There you are," I hissed.

"What are you looking for?"

"A hinge," I muttered, sitting back on my knees.  I slid my hands carefully up from the edge up the gap, feeling the seam where the door met the wall.  "If there's a hinge sticking out, I can maybe use it to get loose."

Ingrid moaned in soft hope.

I had reached as high as I could on my knees.  "I'm going to try to stand up," I told her.  "If I fall down on you, I'm sorry."

"I'll catch you," she answered with just a hint of her usual spunk.  Her panicked gasps had calmed as she listened to me searching for a way out.

I turned around so that my back was to the wall.  Using it as a brace, I slid my feet under me.  Slowly and unsteadily, I pushed my way up the wall until I was standing.  "Ha!" I called in triumph.  I hopped along the wall with my hands out in front of me.  "I'm up!"

Something slammed in to my side, knocking me to the floor where I landed in a heap.  Pain flared from my hip and I whirled my head around, trying in vain to see what had struck me. 

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, girlie?" came the snarl from above.

Case

Case paced the cement floor of the clubhouse garage. 

"Tell me again?" J. had his arms crossed over his chest, his head moving mechanically from side to side as if he couldn't stop saying 'no.' "And slow the fuck down this time."

"She called me while we were at Bruce's bar."

"Who did?"

Case looked over his shoulder.  Crash was standing nearby, listening, but there was no helping that now.  "Lexi," he said, grimly. 

Crash's head shot up.  He stared at Case uncomprehendingly.  "Lexi?" he asked.

J. interrupted quickly.  "She said that your contact was being watched?"

Case nodded and swallowed down the sick bile that rose to her throat.  "She said that Ingrid got a call at like four in the fucking morning, telling her to keep out of their territory.  And then the fucker told her she looked real pretty while she slept."

J. sucked in his teeth.  "Los fucking Lobos?"

"That's what Bruce said," Crash interjected.  "Stupid fat fuck got greedy and tried to double dip."

"So what the fuck do we do now?"

"I don't know,” Case heard his voice breaking and tried to clear his throat to hide it.

"Teach knows," said Crash.  "I don't know if he's gonna call Fernando or what?"

J. made that same fearful sound with his teeth.  "That dude is stone cold.  I knew some of his guys when I was in the pen.  They were loyal as fuck."

"Is he as evil as they say?"

J. looked at the ceiling. "I tried not to listen to that shit when I was in.  But I got the feeling that he's a businessman first.  We might have a fucking chance of saving your girl."

At that Crash looked sharply at them again, his mouth working silently. 

"Case!" Teach bellowed across the garage, before the coughing took him again.  Case hurried to the office with the rest of the Sons following quickly behind.

"They want to talk to you."  Teach's eyes were full of regret as he slowly handed him the receiver.

"Who the fuck is this?" Case growled, ready to reach through the phone and murder whoever was on the other side.

"Casey?" Her voice was shaking.

"Lexi!" Case whirled around, wanting to run everywhere at once.  He clutched the receiver.  "Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"

She took a shuddering breath that he could hear over the line, then a voice rumbled in the background.  "I could do that better if you stop pointing that fucking gun at me," he heard her spit, and he felt a simultaneous rush of pride and terror.

"They want me to tell you that this is going to be real easy."  Her voice was trembling so hard now he could barely understand her.  "Your whole supply in exchange for...our lives."

He heard a scrabbling noise and then a cold voice over the receiver.  "Listen to the little
pelirroja
. She does have such pretty hair."

He heard  a scuffle and then a small yelp from Lexi. "Don't you fucking touch her!" he bellowed.  "I swear to go I will kill you with my bare hands if she even so much as has a scratch..."

Teach roughly yanked the phone from his hand. "Shut up," he hissed.  "You aren't helping her." He turned his back to the watching Sons and spoke in a low, calm voice into the receiver.  The blood thudded too loudly in Case's ears for him to hear.

"They have Lexi?" Crash was still not understanding.  "How the fuck did she get mixed up in this? Lexi didn't do anything wrong."

Before Case could formulate an answer, Teach set the receiver down.  "It's done," he said, his voice ragged.  "Our supply for their lives.  Those are the terms."

Everyone fell silent. The heavy, oppressive stretch lasted too long.  Crash looked wildly at each of them.  "Well what the fuck? Those are fine! Why the fuck is this even a question, of course we'll agree!"

"That's it? Then we're clear?  No more random shooting?" Mac's voice was gravelly. 

"Yeah, what are our guarantees?" Doctor D. interjected.

"What the fuck is wrong with you assholes!" Crash shouted, the veins in his throat sticking out and his face turning red.  "You wanna play god with two innocent girls' lives? Who the fuck are you?"

"Cool down, Crash.  No one said we weren't going to accept."

"Well it shouldn't even be up for fucking debate.  Jesus fuck, let's get this over with, they must be terrified."  He was shaking his head and the muttering started up again.  "She's a good girl...a good girl..."

Case had been holding his tongue throughout Crash's outburst, his heart sinking further and further.  There was no way this wasn't going to hurt Crash.  He only wondered how badly.

"Fuck," Case muttered grimly.  "Okay what else do we need to know?"

"I'm sending you, Crash and J. to make the drop." Mac made a disgruntled sound and Teach silenced him with a look.  "We need this to be quick, Mac.  In and out.  They have three guys at the drop point already.  They're gonna pat you down, of course, but bring your pieces anyway.  Dump the fucking supply and grab the girls and get the fuck out of there.  Don't linger and don't trash talk." He said this last bit directly to Crash who was still punching the air agitatedly.

"We'll need to take two of the vehicles, make room to get the girls out of there." As Road Captain, J. was always one to be thinking through the logistics. 

"Then let's fucking go!" Crash yelled. "Get the shit loaded and get it the fuck out of here."

Mac and Doctor D were already moving, hefting the boxes of pills over their shoulders and letting them slam into the back of Crash's pickup.  "No one said they needed to be intact," Doctor D. growled, giving one of the boxes a punch for good measure.

The address was over in Kensington.  Crash and J. were in his pickup following Case's Jeep up through block after block of shut-down factories and abandoned warehouses.  The skyline still glimmered to the south, but this felt like another city entirely. 

Case slipped from the driver's seat, running his hand absently over his boot, squeezing the reassuring shape of his hunting knife.  Then he dropped to the ground behind the wheel of the Jeep and scanned the area.

Trash blew across the empty lot across the street only to get caught up against a sagging chain link fence.  It must have been a parking lot for workers when this area bustled with manufacturing, but now it was a snow-covered field. 

And it was open.  Too open.  Case's instincts pricked and he felt the hair on the back of his neck rise.  They were sitting ducks out here.  Too vulnerable.  When Crash's pickup pulled in behind him, he held up his hand for them to pause as he continued to get his bearings. 

The warehouse was a long, low-slung building that stretched for an entire city block
.  Too open again
, he thought grimly.  There were enough hiding places for an entire army to ambush them.  His hand wanted to move reflexively to his sidearm, but he stopped himself at the last moment, aware of being watched.

"Well, this is a grim fucking state of affairs," J. remarked.

"I guess we chance it?" Crash asked.

"Grab a box and drop it on the sidewalk.  If they're watching us, they'll let us know what to do."

J. nodded and reached into the back of Crash's pickup.  He grabbed the cardboard box full of various prescription drugs, a shit ton of money, and held it out straight out in front of his chest.  "Yo!" he shouted into the silence.  "Special fucking delivery!" Then he dropped the box to the ground where it landed with a dull thud.

There was a faint shout from inside of the building and all three men put their hands on their guns.  "Don't move," Case hissed.

The heavy metal doors of the warehouse swung open slightly.  Only a crack.  No one came to greet them.

"Who said hospitality was a thing of the past?" J. said.

"Have I mentioned how much I hate this Mafia shit?" Case replied.

They trudged silently up the pitted and icy walkway to the gray double doors.  "Get back," Case ordered them.  "I'll go first." He nudged the door wider and it swung in easily on its hinges, an echoing creak sounding across the empty floor.   The ceiling was low-slung and seemed to swallow the sound as soon as it started. 

"Nice greeting!" he called into the gloom.  "Where are your manners?"

He heard a grim chuckle.  There was a loud clunking noise and then he was blinded as all the lights came on at once. He blinked and staggered back in surprise,

When his eyes adjusted to the light, the first thing he saw was Lexi's frightened eyes staring helplessly at him

And then he saw the gun pointed at her head.