Page 45 of Haze's Jewel

I burst out crying again for reasons that aren’t purely down to the searing white-hot pain that makes me afraid my just-healed arm has been re-injured. There are several other cell phones smashed on the ground near mine. That means, they’ve done this multiple times before and clearly gotten away with it. Also, that cell phone was my last hope of getting rescued or someone finding out what happened here today, I just hope that I’d gotten a signal long enough for the messages to send, but it seems unlikely.

These crazy assholes are going to get away with abducting and killing me. And that on top of everything else is so damn unfair.

My poor mom will never know what happened to me. She might think I got tired of dealing with her because of her medical issues, or that I moved on with my life and couldn’t be bothered to keep in touch. Shitting on me was one thing, but heaping more hardship and misery on my mother really pissed me off.

I can’t keep my anger inside a moment longer, even though I promised myself that I would. They clearly have something bad in store for me, so I don’t have a reason to play nicely anymore. “What the hell is the plan, Greg? You gonna kill me and bury the evidence out here in the wilderness?”

Rick backhands me across the face and states sharply. “You don’t speak unless spoken to, bitch.”

I gape at him because I did not see that coming. I had thought any violence would come from my stepbrother, with Travis egging him on.

Rick takes a step closer and grabs my face giving it a shake. “You’re in my house now. From here on out, you do as I say. Other than that, you shut the fuck up. Got it?”

I nod, feeling pain shooting through my face from his overly firm grip. He lets me go, giving me a little shove along the way.

“From now on, you answer with ‘yes, sir’. Do you understand?”

I swallow thickly and say, “Yes, sir,” just like he demanded.

He gestures to the right. Get your ass in the tent and have a seat on the bench at the back. I don’t want to hear a damn word out of you for the rest of the day.”

I turn and sure enough there is a large olive-green tent with camouflage netting thrown over it. To the back there’s a wooden cabin and I wonder why he’s not taking me there instead. Then I have a horrible thought—blood leaves traces that even the best killer can’t destroy. Maybe this is his preferred kill spot?

I hear Trevor gush, “Goddamn Rick, you really know how to shut a bitch up. I should take lessons from you.”

Rick grits out, “I don’t give lessons and if I did, you couldn’t afford them. Remember, you’re the poor half of this partnership. And since you’re not paying for my services, you can shut the fuck up, too.”

Despite whatever danger my future holds I was smiling on the inside at hearing my ex get told off in no uncertain terms. He’s the world’s biggest prick and deserves so much more than being humiliated by a professional killer.

I step into the tent with Rick following close behind. He gives me a rough shove towards a long bench at the back, that’s covered in the kind of plastic sheeting you use to protect furniture when decorating. I stumble forward and sit down. When I look at the floor, I see that it’s covered in waterproof fabric too.

That’s when I realize I’m not getting out of here alive.

He drops down into a plastic lawn chair which is beside a fold-up, cheap looking, plastic picnic table and looks up at my brother. “Do you have my cash?”

Greg heaves a bulging rucksack onto the table in front of my abductor. “Thirty grand in small, unmarked bill, just like you wanted. It’s all there. You can count it, if you like.”

Rick pulls the bag over and unzips it before dumping the contents out onto the table. “Of course I’ll be fucking counting it.” Gesturing towards a beat-up trunk on the right, he states roughly. “Have a seat. This won’t take long.”

Trevor immediately sits, but of course my brother remains standing, because he can’t stand anyone telling him what to do. My father would be rolling over in his grave if he knew Greg had paid a cold-blooded killer to abduct me.

It takes me a second to realize that Trevor is staring at me. A huge evil smile is eating up his face, I don’t like his expression. It creeps me out and I start wondering what the end game is for me, because I don’t see it ending well, whatever they have in store.

Glancing at my brother’s inscrutable face, and to Trevor and his sadistic grin, something dark and horrifying twists in my gut. An image jumps into my mind of me lying in a shallow grave, my eyes staring up at the sky while Rick shovels dirt over my cold, dead body. At that moment, a crow flies overhead, croaking out a hoarse, grating caw, which seems to seal my fate.

I wrap my arms around my waist and curl my legs up against my body, shivering at the mental image of my gruesome death.

Chapter 19

Haze

We get thrown a curveball when we’re approaching Anna’s hometown. The phone we’re tracking doesn’t go into Oak Ridge. Instead, it skirts around the city and heads out into the surrounding sparsely populated countryside. I’m perplexed but not terribly surprised. Why try to imprison her at their home in the city with hundreds of ears within screaming distance? No, they’ll want to take her somewhere quiet and secluded, where no one can hear her scream.

I don’t know why, but I have the worst feeling about this situation. A little voice in the back of my mind whispers that I do know. It’s because she needs to be dead for the stepbrother to collect on the insurance policy. We don’t exactly know that one is in play, but I believe Smoke and Serena were barking up the right tree when they speculated that money was involved. Whether it’s her father’s inheritance or his insurance policy, my gut tells me they’re going to need a dead body in order to claim that money.

Something hardens in my chest. I’ll burn in the fiery pits of hell before I let them take her precious life. The more I turn the situation over in my mind, the more I realize both her stepbrother and her ex-fiancé can’t be allowed to live. They are the kind of scum that don’t know when to stop. She was out of their hair, but they had to come to Las Salinas and drag her back into their shit.

My hand automatically goes back to adjust the gun tucked at the small of my back. I have a holster back there, so I don’t feel the cold metal against my skin, my back up piece is in my ankle holster. I know Siege wanted to get the local cops involved, but guys like that don’t play nicely. I’m going to take those two idiots out.

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