Page 13 of Callen's Captive
“Kate Whittaker, turn yourself in, and we’ll release him,” a man’s voice boomed over the schools’ PA system in the playground.
Alive, then. Probably. They wouldn’t be offering to free a corpse, but she’d learned not to trust anything the WSSO said or did. Briggs walked in ever-widening circles, confident, expectant. . . impatient. Kate glanced at her watch. Ten more minutes, that’s all she needed. She had timed her program based on Briggs’ deadline, but he was growing more impatient by the minute.
“Again, Mills!” Briggs yelled behind him.
The same announcement, offering to release Callen if she turned herself in, filled the air. Briggs picked up a long metal pipe from a nearby dumpster and stormed toward Callen.
“Last chance, Whittaker!” Briggs swung the pipe at Callen’s ribs. The dull thud and subsequent groan from Callen both horrified her. At least she knew he was alive, but he wouldn’t be much longer if Briggs continued. Another swing of the pipe. Kate felt that strike as if Briggs had struck her. Callen’s moan sounded weaker than before. He wasn’t going to survive this much longer.
“That’s for making me wait!” Briggs yelled in the wrong direction. He had no idea where she was hiding, orifshe was even there, yet that little fact wasn’t keeping him from torturing Callen.
Another powerful thud against Callen’s ribs had Kate’s hands trembling. On the third and loudest sounding strike yet, she clamped her eyes shut tight.
“Are you seeing this, Whittaker?” Briggs said with another deafening strike.
There was a cough, which pierced the fog she found herself hiding in. Callen was coughing; he might have more injuries than broken ribs. Briggs could have punctured a lung.
Another thud nearly had her jumping out of the tree, but she forced herself to stay completely still. Callen had taken on the men in the alley who’d been shooting at her and he’d stood up to those bikers. He was strong. He’d survive this. Kate checked her watch for the thousandth time. He could hold on a little longer. He had to. . .
The memory of Janie intruded, making breathing hard, really hard. Janie had always been bigger, stronger, mostly because she was older, but she’d been tougher too, able to withstand a lot, like Callen. At least that’s what she’d always said. Kate had believed her. Now it wasn’t Janie telling her the lies, but Kate’s subconscious, the part that was too afraid to give herself up in place of Callen.
By the fifth strike, she heard Briggs swear. Kate opened her eyes to see Callen had grabbed hold of the pipe and wrested it from Briggs. Kate gripped the branch, literally on edge, praying Callen would beat Briggs and free himself. Then Mills raced forward and planted a shock stick to the base of Callen’s skull.
Callen flailed like a fish pulled from the ocean and left to suffocate on the deck of a boat. Briggs waved Mills away as he took up the pipe again and swung it at Callen’s right arm, the one that had grabbed the pipe.
Kate stared at her watch, willing the minute hand to move faster. Why had she set the program so late? Because sundown would give them an advantage? No advantage in the world would help Callen if he died while she waited for her program to kick in.Ifit kicked in.
Callen was no longer moving. His brown eyes closed when Mills stopped shocking him. Another mercenary, the short one of the bunch, ran to Briggs. In those few seconds as Briggs cursed, Kate forgot how to breathe. Was her plan working?
Briggs smacked Callen in the head before flinging the pipe into a window. The sound of glass breaking was soon drowned out by Briggs and his men racing to their SUVs and speeding away from the school. They’d left Callen for dead.
Kate raced down the hill and into the schoolyard, knowing they only had minutes at best to escape. Once Briggs reached the other side of town and found none of the crooked sheriffs waiting for him with her in handcuffs, he’d realize the message had been sent to lure him away from Callen.
Her stomach lurched when she saw up close what Briggs had done to Callen. His face sported more than a few bruises and cuts, like someone had used him as a punching bag. As for the rest of him, massive bruises covered his back, ribs and right arm, where Briggs had beaten him with the pipe. Before that, they had carved into his chest. Long, razor-sharp cuts that spelled a word. She stood there staring, trying to comprehend the hatred and utter disregard for life.
“Callen?” she called, unable to keep her voice from shaking.
He didn’t respond. He didn’t even twitch. They’d beaten and carved him to draw her in, and now he was too weak to move on his own.
“Please, Callen, wake up!” She wanted to touch him but was afraid of what would happen if she did, that she’d discover he was already dead.
Kate held her breath as she searched for a pulse. She couldn’t find it. It was Janie all over again.
The WSSO had killed him, the shifter who’d been caring and sweet to her, who’d stirred something in her and had started to make her feel safe. She had waited too long. They’d killed him because she hadn’t shown up when they had demanded. She had hoped to get to know him better, despite all the craziness going on in her life. There had been something about him that she really liked.
Shaky fingers touched his cheek. He was still warm. Kate felt for his pulse again, but she couldn’t find it. This time she put her hand in front of his mouth and could feel the faintest puff of breath.
“You’re alive!” she squealed as she raced to untie the knot at the base of the flagpole. The knot was too damn taut, probably from all of Callen’s weight. Immediately, Kate pulled out her pocketknife and started sawing through the rope. When the last few strands of rope snapped, Callen’s body pooled on the ground. His moan was music to her ears.
“I know you’re hurting, Callen, but you have to get up,” she pleaded as she gently patted his face, trying to rouse him. She hadn’t thought to bring any water with her to splash on his face, not that she had ever conceived that they’d torture him.
He moaned again, which hastened her need to get him moving. “Please, Callen! They’ll be back soon, and I can’t carry you!”
“Go,” his ragged voice said.
She put his left arm around her and started lifting or trying to at least. He was too damn heavy for her. “Not. . . leaving. . .you,” she said, yanking on his arm, but he wouldn’t move. Hell, she wasn’t even sure he was still conscious. Kate got on all fours over him and captured his mouth in hers. He was warm and spicy and offered an illusion of love, safety, and home that could suck her in if she let him. Her mind was playing with her because of the countdown going on in the back of her head. Minutes to get away before Briggs returned!
Callen’s eyes opened. He stared past her, not quite focusing on her. She caressed his cheek, avoiding where it had been split open. “That’s it, Callen. Come back to me.”
As his eyes focused, his head turned from side to side, taking in their surroundings.
“We’ve got to go, Callen. Before Briggs returns.”
“They want you.” His eyes scrunching together, and then his hand grabbed her arm with a fierceness that made her yelp. For a brief minute, she feared he’d turn her over to Briggs, to save himself. When she winced, his grip eased, but he didn’t release her. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said, as if his brain was slowly kicking into gear.
“Neither of us should be. The men who hurt you are coming back.”
He closed his eyes again.
She didn’t know where it came from or why, but a pained cry escaped her. “I need you, Callen.”
