Page 15 of The Madman's Nightmare
After two rings, it was answered. “Thank you for calling Third Steet Rentals. This is Bill.”
Aubrey’s voice turned sweet and bubbly as she spoke. “Yes, sir. I’m hoping you can help me. My boyfriend rented a truck afew days ago from you to move some furniture, and I lost my cell phone which had his number in it. I need to touch base with him and don’t have the number memorized. Is there any way you could help me?”
“Normally, we can’t give that information out, but I understand not remembering anyone’s numbers.” He paused and said, “If you’ll verify some of his information, I’ll be able to give you his number.”
“Oh, thank you so much. You’re my savior,” she gushed.
She verified all the information he requested before he gave her the phone number. It was highly entertaining to watch her smile and bat her eyes during the call, putting on the full act for the clueless man. When she disconnected, she lifted her eyes to the room. Regan was chuckling while the rest of us were in shock.
“How . . . how did you do that?” Lucian asked. “That’s confidential information he gave you.”
Aubrey shook her head and smiled as she simply stated, “Men are easy to manipulate. You all want to save the girl, even if she’s capable of saving herself. By playing clueless and praising his assistance, he folded, just like you all do.”
As Aubrey began to type into her computer, I thought about what she said and realized she had hit the nail on the head. We all wanted to save the girl in some way or another.
A map overtook the screen and a dot appeared, moving slowly along a road. Aubrey pointed and explained, “I hacked into his phone and turned on the location tracker that’s secretly installed on every device, making them tracible even if the phone is powered down.”
I stood, pushing the chair back with my legs as I asked, “Is that where he is now?” Aubrey nodded, and I asked, “Can you send a link to my phone so I can track him in real time?”
“Where are you going?” James inquired with that familiar twinkle in his eyes.
I smiled deviously and replied, “I’m going to find the man who shot me and took my Lamb from me. Then I’m going to pull his skin off in ribbons until he tells me where she is.”
“Holy fuck,” Regan said, and I looked at my newfound sister.
“Welcome to the Nightmare, little sister.”
Chapter 8
Elise
Bradon opened the door to the basement, and I sat up from the bed in the tiny room off to the side. The construction was bad, so I guessed it was a rushed addition. He walked down the stairs and turned to look into the room as he placed a try on a small table near the far wall of the basement.
“You have thirty minutes to eat before I return for the tray,” he stated and turned to walk back upstairs.
I rushed into the basement and asked, “What’s going to happen to me?”
He looked over his shoulder and paused his ascent up the stairs. A moment later, he turned and walked back down to speak to me directly. Again, I saw something in his eyes that was extremely familiar to me, but I couldn’t place it.
“What do you think is going to happen to you?” he asked, and as much as I hated to answer his question, I needed to keep him talking.
The more information I could get from him, the better chance I had to escape. There were no windows in the basement, and getting past whoever was upstairs after breaking through the door didn’t seem like a good plan.
I shrugged and hoped for the best when I responded. “I guess you’re going to kill me.”
His smile turned sinister as he walked closer to me. I tried not to show fear, but he towered over me and could easily manhandle me if he wanted to. The shiver that erupted down myspine when he lifted a piece of my hair and rubbed it between his fingers was instant.
“There are always ways for you to convince me not to kill you,” he replied, and I lifted my eyes to see he wasn’t joking.
Swallowing the thickness down in my throat, I asked, “Like how?”
He leaned closer to me and whispered, “You could show me how grateful you’d be if I saved you from Kendra’s wrath.”
I didn’t want to do anything with him, but if it came down to saving my life by spreading my legs for this demented man, then I would have to live with the consequences of that decision. But only if it came to that. Right now, I had three days to decide how far I was willing to go to save my life.
I gave him a nod, and he released my hair as he stepped back, seemingly gathering his composure before he spoke again.
“Clean your plate and I’ll return in,” he looked at his watch, “twenty-four minutes.”
