Titanium (17 page)

Although unsure of his motives, I dropped it. The aunt and
uncle might come running and, once Riley was safe, take her back
home with them. I didn't want that. Selfish? Absolutely. But at the
moment I couldn't bear the thought of giving up the sunbeam who'd
brightened my dark existence.

"I'm flying to San Antonio," Steve next said. "We'll figure out
what to do when I get there."

"Do what you want. I'm not waiting." I killed the call. It took
a second, but I finally saw that every eye in the room was trained on
me. I gave them the short version, but did include the scoop on
Riley's dad. That got quite a reaction. We all loved Titanium, the
metal man who fought tyranny to save the oppressed. "So the
kidnapping was well planned, but how in the hell this Titus guy knew
we'd be at the lake this weekend, I don't know. No one followed us.
I'm absolutely sure of it."

Dom jumped up and began walking around the room
examining the walls and ceilings. He stopped. "What's that?"

We all looked to where he pointed--a black speck high on
the taupe wall in the southwest corner of the room. A spider, maybe?
When I got to it, I saw that it was, indeed, a bug, but not an arachnid.
I looked closer. A mic. Someone had bugged the freakin' room. Trust
Dom, the communications officer, to think of that.

Without me saying a word, the guys mobilized and began
checking all the walls. I heard a signal whistle from Riley's room, a
sound that meant rendezvous. Dom again. We all met in the middle
just outside the bathroom door. He kept his voice low. "Mics
everywhere. Goddamn camera above her bed and another in the
bathroom."

I came unglued. "
Son of a bitch!
That perv
has
been spying on her. Why couldn't I tell he was lying through his
teeth?"

"Think how you worded the questions." Dom, who'd
witnessed my techniques, knew how tricky it was to ask the right
thing.

"I worded them just fine." The next second I wondered if I
really had. Cheap Charlie's asking Riley out had definitely pissed me
off, not that I was admitting that. "We need to get all the surveillance
shit out of here now."

"No, no, no. We should leave it," Wilson said. "Most of it,
anyway. If you don't, they'll know we're onto them. Now the cameras
are fine if we keep in mind where they are. As for the mics, I say we
kill the one in the living room and leave the others." He turned on the
TV in Riley's room, raising the volume until it blared. Now no one
would hear anything but that.

With a nod of approval, I left them to it and strode straight
out the front door of the apartment as I'd done Friday night, only this
time my brain wasn't sidetracked by jealousy as it had been then. A
nanosecond later, I pounded both fists on Cheap Charlie's door yet
again. When he opened it, I gave him a hard push backward. He
sprawled into his recliner.

When Charlie's shocked gaze swept the motley crew who'd
followed me, he wilted like the pansy he was.

"That went well, don't you think?" Jason asked.

I gathered up what bluster I could. "Some fan you are."

"Trust me, there isn't a bigger one on the planet. I idolize
Steve McConnell. That's why I'm doing this. He's going to look like an
idiot if someone doesn't step in. It's called tough love, baby."

"Yeah? Well he's not going to love you back, and I'll tell you
why. Whatever you feel for Eric Deckard, it's nothing compared to
what my father feels. He will never let you take control. Never."

"Then I guess you can kiss your sweet ass goodbye."

"Or maybe I'll be rescued. Zander has surely called the
police by now and is probably looking for me, himself. He's military,
you know."

"Don't count on your GI gypsy. Yeah. We've got the scoop on
him, too. Purple Heart. Bronze Star. But none of that bullshit matters,
does it, when you're dead? And that's what he is, baby. Dead."

I gasped. "You're lying."

Jason grabbed my arm at the biceps and pulled me up close.
"Why would I bother?"

He let me fall and abruptly tipped his head toward the door.
Everyone came to life, filing out of the room and taking that
flashlight with them. The resulting darkness totally engulfed
me.

I fell apart. Screaming my sorrow and bawling so hard I
couldn't catch my breath. More than anything, I wished I had
Zander's talent for spotting a lie. Was he dead? He'd survived
Afghanistan, for God's sake. Had he really been killed in the states by
freakin'
Titanimites
?

The minutes ticked by. How many, I didn't know. Angry,
scared, violated, I was so lost in my private nightmare that I had to
make myself breathe.

In. Out. In. Out.

Was I really alone? Or had one of them simply hidden in the
shadows, watching and waiting to pounce when I least expected it?
Would they give me food? Water? A toilet? What if my father couldn't
meet Jason's demands? What if he
wouldn't
? I hugged my
knees, burying my face in them as I rocked back in forth. Would they
kill me?

And what if Zander was really dead?

Yeah. Back to that. I should've told him how I felt, I realized.
Now he might never know.

Deep breath, Riley.

As my pulse gradually slowed, I deliberately focused on
Zander's well-deserved Purple Heart. He hadn't mentioned it to me,
but he probably wouldn't. As for the Bronze Star, I wished I had my
iPhone so I could look up what they were given for. I thought it had
something to do with bravery. That didn't surprise me. He'd proved
his courage the first time he saved my butt, and his buddies had
confirmed it.

Could I be brave, too? A warrior just like him?

Maybe it was time to give Zander a break and rely on myself.
And the first step would be figuring out where I was. I took off one of
my boots and set it on the floor. My fingers touched what felt like
small clumps of dirt on cool concrete. If it had been tracked inside,
there might be a door somewhere nearby that opened directly to the
outside. I wouldn't have put it past Jason to try and disorient me by
taking the long way in.

With my shoulder to the wall, I crawled around the
perimeter of the room, encountering one locked door before I got
back to the boot. The area wasn't as big as I'd originally thought.
Wondering what the room contained besides me, I used my new
mental map to grope across it. I ran into nothing. Feeling braver, I
walked the edges again with my hand on the wall. My fingers found a
built-in counter with a sink set in it. I turned on the tap and got
water, so I washed my face and took a good long drink, hoping it ran
clear. At any rate, it tasted okay.

The cabinets above and below the basin were empty.
Naturally, I tried the door again when I got to it. Still locked. Only a
little lost, I made my way back to my spot and sat to pull on my boot,
an action that resulted in my fingers touching something small and
crispy. Dead spider!

I shuddered from head to toe as I swiped my hands down
my jeans. Were there other critters lying around? Ants, roaches? And
what about mice? Thinking of them brought Zander to mind,
annihilating whatever satisfaction I'd experienced by blindly
checking out the room.

He didn't feel dead to me, but how could he when I was in
total denial?

I forced myself to refocus on the here and now. Was this
enclosed space someone's storm cellar? If I only had a light, I'd feel
better, I thought. Sensory deprivation was proving to be much worse
than I'd ever imagined. No wonder prisoners went crazy in solitary
confinement. I wished for Zander's watch with its glow-in-the-dark
readout in military time.

Sinking into a pit of despair in spite of my resolve to do
otherwise, I sat for a very long time before I heard muffled voices
and the slide of a deadbolt as someone unlocked the door. Aided by a
small flashlight, a Titanium came in with a Sonic sack and drink.
Beyond him, I saw what looked like a shadowy hallway.

"I've gotta pee, dude."

He nodded and set the sack on the floor before motioning
that I should get up and go to him. When I did, he stepped behind me.
I tensed, but all he did was slip one of those silver masks over my
head and test that I couldn't see.

Since the eye holes had been duct taped and the mask
contoured to fit a face, I definitely couldn't. "Is this really
necessary?"

He didn't answer.

I let him lead me out the door, counting the steps and noting
that the soles of my boots seemed to scrape on more and more dirt
as we walked. The guy in the mask turned me to the right and
nudged me forward, shutting the door behind me and sliding a dead
bolt mounted on his side. I yanked off the mask, as he'd surely
known I would.

Though dark, the bathroom had a window that appeared to
be boarded up on the outside. A tiny crack between two of the slats
let in just enough light that I could find the toilet and wash my hands
with soap located near the faucets. There was no towel.

"Hurry up in there!"

I tried to open the cabinet under the sink, but when it didn't
easily budge gave that up. Didn't want him to hear me and cut off
bathroom privileges. After slipping the mask back in place, I knocked
on the door. He slid the bolt, checked to confirm I couldn't see, and
led me back to my prison.

"Thanks." I figured no harm could come of me being polite.
What I needed now were allies, even if they wore expressionless
silver masks.

He grunted, pushed me through the door, and took off the
mask. I heard him lock up and leave. Following my nose, I found the
food and ate every bite of a hamburger and cold fries. The Coke was
sweet nectar sliding down my scratchy throat.

I wished for something to soothe my ravaged lips, which
made me wonder where my purse was. Back at the cabin?
Or had one of them snatched it up? And if so, could I talk someone out of it?

Time dragged by. Exhausted, I stretched out and dozed a
little, or tried to. It wasn't easy to relax when I couldn't tell if there
were bugs or rodents nearby. What if one crawled up my arm? And
why was I worrying about something so trivial when Zander might
be dead?

Zander. I'd never known I could love any guy so much. His
strength, his struggles, his nightmares--I wanted to witness them
firsthand and forever. I wanted to help him work through them.
Knowing him put my own life in perspective. If I'd ever thought I had
problems, I sure didn't think that now.

Frustrated and lonely, I crawled to where I thought the door
stood. I found it a couple of feet to the left of where I aimed. "Hey, is
anyone out there?"

"What do you want?" The male voice sounded slightly
muffled since we had a heavy wooden door between us.

"Tell me about Titanium."

"You don't know the story?" He sounded incredulous.

"No." I lied. Anything to keep him talking. "Start at the
beginning. I want to know what all the fuss is about."

Before the guy could answer, I heard more muffled
voices.

"Do you need the bathroom?" someone asked. A new voice,
yet oddly familiar.

"Yes." Any excuse to get out of there.

"You know the drill, right?"

"Yeah." I waited for him to open the door, which gave me
just enough light to see how to get to him. He put the mask on me. He
led me there and locked me in. I pulled cloth off my eyes. After I did
my thing, I simply stood there for a minute, grateful to be in a gray
world instead of a black one.

"Hey!" He banged on the door. "Are you done yet?"

"Yes." I put on the mask again. He led me back to the
dungeon. I got the distinct impression he was tall. Wasn't sure why.
Maybe it was the source of his voice or the angle of the arm attached
to the hand that grasped me. "Thank you."

"No problem."

Was this zombie two aka tall guy from the parking lot? I
really thought it was. I eased over to the door and sat beside it,
wishing a breath of fresh air or one ray of light could get in. "Did it
ever occur to any of you to just ask if I'd go along with your plan to
control my dad? I'd have done it. He's nothing to me. Of course, I'd
have made sure he threw in some cash."

"I can't talk to you."

"Why not? I'm miserable in here, and guarding me can't be
that much fun."

"It's pretty freakin' boring all right."

"Do you have any sisters?"

My question seemed to catch him off guard. "Two."

"Would you want this to happen to either of them?"

"No. "

"Then how can you do it to me?"

"Not the same thing."

"But it is!"

"I'm sorry, okay? We're just doing what we have to."

Heart. He had heart. Well,
some
anyway. Could this
guy be the weak link I needed?

"I'm telling you I don't know anything about any hidden
cameras," Charlie said.

Having asked the question every way possible, I knew he
wasn't lying. After some physical intimidation, he spilled his guts and
told us some guy had paid him to borrow Riley's key, but never told
him why he wanted it. Charlie thought that relieved him of
responsibility, the reason I couldn't sense the lie. In his eyes, he
really hadn't let anyone in.

As for the spying question, Charlie was simply monitoring
conversations, which he didn't count as spying. The video was being
watched by someone somewhere else. Naturally I gave myself a
mental kick in the ass for not asking better questions.

He gave us a description of the person who'd done the
installation, saying he spoke with a gravelly voice, only came around
when Riley wasn't there, and drove either a Chef's Way delivery van
or a silver SUV. Again, the truth--truth that told me Jason was behind
everything. I threatened Charlie with bodily harm if he reported our
visit. He swore he wouldn't say a thing. And since he'd all but pissed
his pants, I knew he was scared enough to mean it.