Surge (26 page)

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Olivia said she needed something out of her bag, so I’m waiting for her in the living room. When she comes back, she points at the door. It’s only when Olivia walks down the hall, that I notice she’s changed, and isn’t wearing most of her leather gear.

She has a pair of jeans on that actually fit her height, another turtleneck, a sweat-shirt that’s loose and must belong to Cory since it almost reaches her knees, sneakers, and her leather gloves in place. Her face is also clean and her braid is freshly done; I’m guessing it’s to try and make herself seem more approachable, or less threatening, when she questions her captives. That whole
‘you catch more bees with honey’
act, but I’ll have to wait and see, since she’s on a mission and I promised not to interfere.

Walking to the back staircase of our condo’s foyer, Olivia opens it and motions for me to pass before shutting the door behind us. She then leads me a flight upstairs to the next floor’s condo unit. Knocking on the door, Carlos answers a few seconds later, and ushers us inside.

“Thanks, Carlos,” she says. “We have it from here.”

How the fuck did she tell them apart? I only knew because of the arm patch on the right arm, and I’ve known them a hell of a lot longer than she has. I’ll have to ask later, because after Carlos nods, he leaves the condo with a silent click of the door indicating it latching in place.

In the middle of the room are two chairs, both of which the captives have been tied to. Their hands are bound to the arm rests, and their mouths are still duct taped. I avoid looking at Victoria before I trip my gag reflex, and observe the amputee at her left. The raider’s ski mask is already off, so I can finally see his face.

He’s one ugly mother fucker, with his beady eyes that are way too close together, a hooked nose that’s been broken multiple times; meaning it’s slanted at an unnatural angle. I can’t see his mouth due to the gag, but there’s a scruffy beard that’s unsuccessfully trying to hide his weak chin. My mother always said to never trust a man with a weak chin, and seeing that this guy has one that’s almost nonexistent, I think that she was right. I’m guessing him to be in his late thirties or early forties due to the amount of grey in his more salt than pepper hair, but he could just be prematurely grey since he doesn’t have the lines that usually develop with age.

Pulling a knife from somewhere on her person, Olivia steps forward. I’m thinking she might start cutting first, and ask questions later, but she just cuts a hole in the duct tape and pulls the sock through to remove it; enabling it so that he can talk.

“Hello there, my name’s Olivia, and this is Jared,” she introduces with an upbeat voice and waves a hand at me. “And welcome to our home. I hope you’ve enjoyed your stay with us thus far.” Olivia taps her chin as she observes the red head who’s currently glaring at her. “I don’t think your friend, Icky Vicky, has enjoyed her visit, but she was a bit, shall we say, difficult? But I do so hope that you’ll be a more accommodating guest.”

“Fuck you, bitch,” the guy snarls at Olivia.

“Now, that wasn’t very nice,” Olivia says as she taps her index fingers together in a
‘naughty-naughty’
gesture. “I guess I’m going to have to teach you some manners.” Taking a few steps forward, Olivia grips one of the guy’s fingers on the remaining left hand, and pulls up. An audible crack reveals that she broke it, but the guy doesn’t utter a peep, or grunt in pain.

“That the best you got?” Raider man taunts. Olivia smiles, it’s not one of her enchanting ones, this one promises pain.

“Oh no,” she replies with a wave. “That was just seeing if you have a pain tolerance. I’m guessing that yours is pretty high, macho man that you are, so I’ll have to try something else.” Olivia walks over to the corner and returns with a club; which she taps against her palm. “You see, I’m a big fan of Kathy Bates, most especially her role in
Misery
. As you might have guessed, I’ve always wanted to try and reenact the scene where Annie breaks Paul’s ankles.” Olivia smiles at the raider, who visibly pales, and I see his Adam’s apple bobs with a gulp.

“But I bet you’d like to avoid that, now wouldn’t you?” Olivia asks, and her captive’s nods his head adamantly. “Then I’m going to give you two choices here, Frank,” she begins and the raider’s eyes widen a little at her usage of the name. “And yes I know that you’re Frank.” She leans in close. “But do you remember who I am?” The guy just stares at her. “Let me give you a hint.”

Olivia pulls up her shirt sleeves and methodically removes the gloves that go up to her forearms. On both wrists are raised scars that mar the creamy skin. About three inches thick, they both encircle her tiny wrists like grotesque permanent bracelets, that piss me right the fuck off. Who the hell did that to her, and is he still alive so that I can have the great pleasure of killing him?

“Li-Livi?” Frank asks with disbelief. “He said you were dead.”

“I’m sure he did,” she mocks. Standing to her full 5’2”, she holds up her arms. “But here I am, alive and very much well, thanks so much for asking.” Covering her scars immediately back up with jerky movements, she doesn’t speak until her gloves and sleeves are back in order. Then she claps her hands. “So, Frank, are you going to choose the easy way, and tell me what I want to know? Or, are you going to end up like Paul, or the red headed slut sitting next to you, who’s missing three of her fingers?”

“I-I’ll talk,” he replies nervously with a glance at Victoria. “Wha-What do you w-want to know?”

“I think you know the answer to that,” Olivia says easily.

“You w-want to k-know where he is?” Frank asks and Olivia gives a stiff nod. “I-I’m not sure.” Olivia picks up the club and pulls it back to prepare for a swing at his knee caps. “WAIT!” Lowering the club slightly, Olivia waits for him to continue. “I don’t know where he is as of right this second, but I know where he was yesterday. Will that work?”

“Depends,” she answers. “I want locations, numbers of men, and how many prisoners he’s keeping. If you satisfy all of my requirements, and tell me the truth, I’ll let you live.” Nodding vigorously, Frank agrees.

“Absolutely,” he says. “I will absolutely tell you everything that I know right now. He was in Somerville last night with a hundred men, and about a ten prisoners.”

“Only ten?” Olivia demands.

“Yes, only ten,” Frank repeats. “He got bored a few weeks back.”

“He tends to do so often,” she remarks.

“Not when you were there,” he retorts. Olivia’s eyes flash to steel and she grips Frank the throat.

“What did you say?” Olivia asks, her voice is filled with deadly intent.

“I-I said th-that...” Frank doesn’t finish.

“You said what!” Olivia bellows and shakes him by his neck.

“That he’s going to love the new you, you cunt,” the bastard finishes with the sneer, ditching the mumbling, defenseless act altogether. “He so did like the way you...”

Olivia doesn’t let him finish, she swipes her dagger across his jugular, ending whatever he was about to say. Blood sprays out in an arch, then pours from the wound like a waterfall. Frank gasps for air like a fish out of water for a few minutes, before slumping forward. Stumbling back a few steps, Olivia drops her bloody weapon and lifts her blood covered hands to cover her ears. She may be a tough badass, but judging by her reaction, she sure as hell doesn’t enjoy it.

“Olivia?” I ask softly.

She either ignores me or didn’t hear, because she walks all the way to the corner before sliding to the floor and wrapping her arms around her knees; it’s as if she’s trying to hold herself together. Her already small stature shrinks to the size of a toddler, as she ducks her head down to bury it in her knees like a personal cocoon.

Taking a few cautious steps in her direction, I hear her mumbling something. When I’m about five feet away, I say her name again and her tear filled eyes meet mine. That wreaks havoc inside my chest and makes me want to do something that I’ve only done out of obligation before, which is to comfort a woman.

Slowly, as if I were approaching a wounded animal, I stick out my hand in her direction. I’ve seen her accept similar gestures from Sarah, Whitney and Cory, so I’m waiting with baited breath that she trusts me enough to accept mine.

Her gaze moves from my hand to my eyes a few times, and just when I’m about to admit defeat and get Cory, Olivia reaches out with a trembling hand to meet mine. I don’t apply any pressure, or curl my fingers over hers, until Olivia’s move first. Her tiny fingers grip mine softly, but as she gains confidence, they pick up in strength. I don’t pull her toward me like I want to, I just hold her hand in a loose grip for a few minutes. When her eyes don’t spill any more tears, I think that it’s safe to try and coax her out.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask and she shakes her head rapidly. Holding up my free hand, I nod. “Okay, we don’t have to. Just know that I’m here, and would listen anytime you feel comfortable sharing. I don’t care if you think it’s silly or not, I want to hear it.” Olivia stares at me for what seems like twenty minutes, when it’s probably only twenty seconds before nodding.

“Thank you,” she whispers quietly. And this time, instead of walking out like a dick, I reply.

“You’re welcome. Now, let’s get out of here.” Olivia glances at Victoria. “She’s not going anywhere, let’s go downstairs and we’ll come back in a little while. I’m hungry, and maybe you could take a bath? I wasn’t going to say anything, but you’ve had this odor coming off you, and it’s making me tear up.”

Olivia laughs like I hoped she would, before I cautiously help her to her feet. Honestly, I just want to get the asshole’s blood off of her, before she has another anxiety attack. There’s a smeared spray that goes across the grey fabric of the sweatshirt on her chest, up to her face, and obviously on her gloved hand that delivered the killing blow, that is currently holding mine.

“I think I could definitely use a bath,” she agrees with a wrinkle of her adorable nose. “The last time I seen one, was when I made you fill it.”

“I could help you again,” I offer.

“That would be nice,” she says. “But I’m cooking tonight as payment. Deal?”

“Deal.”

I’m still holding her hand as we walk toward the door to the 4th floor’s condo, but I don’t think she realizes it, because she hasn’t pulled away. I actually like it, and I’m shocked. I’m not the cuddling type, and I haven’t made a point of holding hands with women, but this is different. Maybe it’s because I’m trying to comfort her, or maybe it’s because it shows that Olivia is starting to trust me a little. Whatever the reason, I like it and hope that we can build off of this, since I’m sure that Olivia could be a great friend if she let her guard down around me a little more.

It’s at the stairs that I regrettably have to break contact with her to walk. Her small reach isn’t capable of walking downstairs safely while holding on to me, so I release her hand and head down first. As soon as my tread reaches our level, the door springs open to reveal John and Cory. They go to open their mouths, but a quick shake of my head silences them. Olivia keeps her head faced slightly downward, like she’s ashamed of herself. Clenching my jaw, because she has nothing to be ashamed of, I restrain myself from saying something that could cause backlash.

“Call a meeting, John,” I say as I lead Olivia toward our condo. “I’m going to help Olivia fill a bath, so that she can cook for us tonight.”

“Abso-fucking-lutely!” John exclaims and runs ahead of us with excitement blatantly evident at the prospect of one of Olivia’s creations.

Following his exuberant footsteps at a more somber pace, Olivia trails in my stead, with Cory right behind her. After telling Cory her destination, he leaves us in the great room while I lead Olivia to the master. Knowing her aversion to door knobs, I leave this door open a crack and see her smile a little when she thinks I’m not watching.

Walking over to the slider, I grab the bucket and set to filling the tub. It takes several trips, but it’s worth it to see Olivia’s grey eyes bright and happy over the idea of a bath. The water temperature is much warmer today with the August sun beating down on the rain barrel all day, so there was no need to warm it this time. Which is a good thing, since we don’t have a real fireplace; only one of those electric ones that are now useless.