Page 131 of Death Wish

Although he hated to sleep when Simone was in trouble, Sawyer was right. He needed every minute he had to shore up his strength. He shifted in the seat until he found a semi-comfortable spot and dropped into a light sleep.

Sometime later, his phone signaled an incoming call. Jesse glanced at the screen and swiped his thumb across the glass. “It’s Jesse. You’re on speaker with Sawyer. What do you have for me, Z?”

“Simone and White got off the Interstate at exit 52. I think I know where they’re headed.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

SIMONE FOLLOWED TREVOR’S directions and turned right onto a dirt road. Actually, the term road was a generous description for this rutted dirt track. If she owned a home out here, she’d insist on having this road paved or laying down a big load of crush-and-run rocks. This cow path would become a mud slide during heavy rains.

She grimaced as rocks pinged the undercarriage and tree limbs and bushes crowding the narrow track scraped the car as they drove along the rutted lane.

Trevor cursed. “Watch what you’re doing. You’re scraping the paint.”

“I’m trying to stay in the middle but the tree limbs and bushes haven’t been trimmed in a long time.”

“Don’t make excuses,” he yelled. “Just do what I said.”

No reasoning with him, Simone realized. He was too irritable to be rational which wasn’t good for her health.

She glanced at her watch, wishing she could talk to Zane or, better yet, Jesse. Was he in surgery? She couldn’t tell how badly he was hurt.

Simone slowed the car to a crawl to spare herself bouncing along the track and hopefully steer clear of worse damage to the car. Every time she hit a deep rut or hole, Trevor yelled and jabbed the gun into her side.

Finally, she saw a structure looming in the darkness at the end of the dirt track. Simone stared and wondered if the place had running water.

“Park in front. I’ll come around. If you know what’s good for you, you won’t run.” Trevor opened the door, looked around a minute, then circled the hood to open her door. “Out.”

Barely waiting until she removed her seatbelt, Trevor manacled her wrist with his hand and yanked Simone from the car.

She stumbled after him, wishing he’d slow down so she could get her balance. When she fell, he cursed, kicked her leg, and dragged her back to her feet.

Trevor’s hand shook as he shoved a key in the lock and opened the door. After yanking Simone inside, he turned on a light and locked the door. “Welcome to your new prison, Simone.”

She glanced around. Rustic was an understatement. Man. She’d hate to live like this all the time. Worn out furniture, dirt everywhere, even on the windows, and a ragged carpet. Newspapers and magazines along with empty fast-food containers littered every flat surface.

On the other side of the large room was the kitchen with more dirt and grime everywhere. Takeout containers and trash covered the counters. The garbage can was overflowing and flies buzzed around the container.

Off to the left was a short hall which Simone assumed led to bedrooms and hopefully a bathroom.

Trevor tugged her toward the hallway.

“Where are we going?”

“I’m locking you up. I’m sick of looking at you.”

“I need a stop at the bathroom first.”

He glared at her. “Make it fast.”

Halfway down the hall, Trevor shoved her toward a small room. “One minute, Simone. Every second longer means another beating. If you lock this door, I’ll break it down. I’ll be waiting.”

“All right.” She closed the door and used the facilities.

Her watch vibrated. A message slid across the screen. Jesse’s okay. Help to arrive soon.

Oh, thank God. “Thanks,” she whispered.

Another message. Hold on. Be strong.

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