Collateral Damage (4 page)

There was a scuffling sound, and then a whisper. "Do you like it?"

I plastered a sweet smile on my face as I turned to look at Alrik. "It's wonderful!

You painted all this by yourself?"

"Vince helped." Alrik grinned back at Vince who came in behind him. Then he leaned forward and dropped his tone. "He got more paint on the floor than me."

Why, oh why, did I try to picture that in my head? Vince being decent to the boy didn't translate to him treating me any differently. He'd already shown me he was capable of the same depravity as the others.

The men and the boy watched me as I went around the room. I checked the other door, found a small bathroom with a shower stall, a toilet, a sink, and a shelf piled with fluffy, white towels. I'd been given all the necessities in my quaint, little cell. But that didn't change what it was. A cell. Back in the bedroom, I nudged the table and the two chairs. They were bolted to the floor. So was the bed. There were no windows. An air vent high on the wall above the bed kept fresh air circulating. No potential escape route there. Not even Alrik could crawl through the space behind the metal screen.

"Take a seat, Nicole."

My spine went stiff. I couldn't say why, but, for some reason, this strange man knowing my name sent off alarms inside my head. It took away the randomness, made them taking me personal. I couldn't hang on to the idea that pissing off some guys in a club had caused all this.

I sat down, and the man with the black hair sat across from me. Alrik and Vince stood near the door. Their presence had a calming effect. Bad things hadn't happened in Alrik's presence yet . . . well, unless you counted Amanda's murder.

Do not think about that. Let it be fake, like the screams in the hall.

"I think it's time we tell you why you're here."

I folded my hands on the table, feeling strangely like I'd come for an impromptu job interview. I managed the appropriate composure. "Please do."

The man held his hand out. Alrik approached him, glancing at Vince once before he reached the man's side. Vince nodded, and the boy shuffled closer.

"We have ourselves a smart little boy here." The black haired man dropped his hand on Alrik's shoulder. "He wants to learn to read and write, and I believe you're qualified to help him with that, yes?"

For a moment, I could only stare at the man. Then I licked my lips and said carefully, "You need a teacher?"

"We need several. Three, to be exact. Alrik's education is very important to us."

He mirrored my posture. "We've chosen five of the most qualified professionals in early childhood education; each one meets certain . . . special criteria. Alrik will choose the three he likes best, and the other two will be dismissed."

The way he said "dismissed" sounded very final.

"Why didn't you just put an ad out in the paper? I'm sure you would have had plenty of applicants." And God help anyone who'd apply.

"You're an intelligent woman, Nicole." His lips twisted into an unpleasant smile.

"Surely, you know the best wouldn't be looking for employment. And the things we're looking for aren't what you would find in a typical job application."

My nails dug into the back of my hand. "Can you be more specific?"

"Do I need to be?" He reclined and gestured vaguely towards Vince. "Vincent will tend to you, tell you what is required, and see that you understand all the rules. No one else will touch you unless he or I allow it."

Vince stepped forward, tension rippling along the muscles of his neck. "Cyrus—"

"No. She is your first. I'd like to make sure you can handle her before I leave you the responsibility alone." The black-haired man, Cyrus, stood and took Alrik's hand.

"Now, it's past your bedtime. Let's give Miss Reed and Vincent some time alone. Your lessons begin in the morning."

"Can't Miss Reed come upstairs and tuck me in?" Alrik tugged at his hand and looked back at me. His bottom lip quivered. "Please?"

Vince's fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. I had a feeling he didn't like Cyrus taking the boy, but, for some reason, he wasn't going to do anything about it.

"You know she can't." Cyrus released Alrik and folded his arms over his chest.

"You don't want to get her in trouble already, do you?"

Alrik shook his head, hunched his shoulders, and followed Cyrus out.

"That's just sick," I said as the door eased shut. I glared at Vince while he crossed the room and took Cyrus' place at the table. "You plan to use me to manipulate him?

Does he know what will happen to me if he doesn't do what you say?"

"Do
you
know what will happen to you?" Vince latched onto my wrist, tightening his grip when I tried to twist away. "He is safe and well cared for. Your concern should be for yourself."

"I'm an adult. I'll recover from whatever you bastards decide to do to me." I sneered at him, feeling a little reckless. I wanted to make him snap—maybe then I'd have some advantage. "You should have saved the gang bang. All your subtle threats seem pretty weak now. After being raped by four guys, what's the worst a thirty-year-old virgin could do to me? More of the—"

"Virgin?" He laughed. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

"Cyrus said—"

"That you were my first. I see." His loosened his grip and slid his hands down to cover mine. He stroked my knuckles with his thumbs, expression thoughtful. "I have enough experience to handle you, Nicole. Don't ever doubt that. You are simply the first to belong to me."

"Belong to you?" I bit my tongue to hold back a laugh. "I guess you don't mind sharing your toys?"

"I consider you more of a pet than a toy." He patted my hands and then stood.

"And, no, I don't mind sharing."

In the pretty room, with all the basic comforts, with the memories of pain fading to dull throbs, familiar self-recriminations assaulted me. I hadn't struggled enough. I'd made things too easy for them. If I kept it up, I deserved whatever I got.

Thankfully, years of therapy effectively snuffed any impulsive notions that would likely get me killed. I needed brains more than guts right now.

As Vince moved to leave, I realized I had no information to work with. I rose and shuffled around the table. "Wait! You didn't tell me anything! What are the rules?"

He paused with his hand on the doorknob and glanced over his shoulder. "Stay."

That was it, and he was gone. The door closed, and I stood a few feet away from it, listening for the click of a bolt. But it never came.

I wasn't locked in. Was it a test? Did they think I'd be stupid enough to try to escape and give them an excuse to punish me? Or were they arrogant enough to believe I'd be too afraid to try?

Patience.
I inhaled and went to sit on the bed. After a span of silence, I decided to risk a quick shower, with my shoes jammed under the door because there was no lock.

Scalding hot water beat down on me. I scrubbed up quickly, hardly noticing the fruity scent of the soap and shampoo overpowering the rank smell drifting up from the black and red muck flowing off my body and gathering around the drain. All clean, I dried off and then dressed. Before I left the bathroom, I undid my shoelaces, the closest thing I had to a weapon. My only hope was that they'd underestimate me. I hid the laces under the pillow, and then rested my head on it. There was no way I could sleep with my whole body tense, waiting for them to make the next move. But I
would
wait. They'd make a mistake. And I'd be ready.

Chapter Four

Spices I didn't have names for, the kind used for steaks and roast beef. A sizzling sound, and my mouth watered. Oh, how I loved red meat. My eyes rolled back a little behind my closed lids. I wasn't really asleep; I'd just dozed off a bit on a mat. Naptime for the little ones.

Amanda poked me. "Come on, lazy. I made you something for lunch."

I gave her a sleepy smile. "I brought a sandwich."

"I threw it out," she said. "You're too old for PB and J. You need real food."

Sounded so much like something my mother would say. Both my mother and Amanda were the kind of women who thought food equaled love. Only Amanda had more to give.

"I'm not that hungry." I groaned and rolled away from her.

The mat was softer, somehow cushion-y rather than stiff. A mild fabric softener scent instead of disinfectant solution.

"You will eat now."

I jolted, suddenly alert and aware of where I was. Not at the daycare with Amanda. In a room. Alone with Vince.

And Amanda's gone. Because of him and his friends.

My answer didn't change, but, this time, I was serious. "I'm not hungry."

The very idea of food made me want to throw up. Something that could be given or taken on a whim. I'd gotten used to eating what I wanted, when I wanted.

And I'd lost that control again.

"What purpose would it serve if you get sick?" Vince left the plate of food on the table and came to the bed. Hands braced on the metal frame, he studied me as though I presented an interesting puzzle. "Was any of your concern for the boy real? Have your tactics changed now that you've figured out your place in all this?"

"My place?" All at once, the rage within bubbled and spit like a thick soup on a red-hot burner. "My place! Who the fuck do you think you are? I could have run away after I popped out your buddy's eyeball."

"Why didn't you?"

"I couldn't leave Amanda—who's still lying in that alley—"

"She was already dead. She bled out quickly," he said, cold and clinical as a coroner. "And she's no longer in the alley."

"Then where is she?"

"That doesn't concern you. And you still haven't answered my question. Why
didn't
you run away?"

"Because I couldn't leave the boy. I considered it, for a split second, but I couldn't do it."

"You're a strange animal, Nicole." His lips quirked. "Your protective nature overrules your survival instincts. I like that."

"You think I care what you—?" I laughed.
Of course. That's exactly what he thinks
.

"Get over yourself. You're just another goon. Don't believe for one second that I am not perfectly aware who's in charge. Cyrus is the one I need to suck up to if I want to be left alone."

"I'd like to see you try." He chuckled and shook his head. "Cyrus won't leave you alone, and neither will I. But you will find your situation bearable if you avoid playing games and do as you're told."

"I haven't been told to do anything."

"I told you to eat."

Stupid! Just do it!
But I couldn't. I caught myself circling my thumb over the pad of my middle finger, a strange twitch I'd developed as a kid. I forced myself to stop and flattened my hands at my sides on the mattress. "You did. But I'll eat when I'm hungry."

"You must be . . . ." He frowned, seemed confused. "You skipped lunch. And you enjoy steak, cooked exactly like this." He gestured towards the table. "Why refuse such a simple request?"

I had the strangest urge to cry. The threats had been perfectly clear. If I disobeyed, I would pay. I
was
hungry. Eating the food he'd brought would be such a simple concession. But I couldn't do it.

"Because I can." I drew myself up, sitting ramrod stiff, prepared for whatever way he chose to punish me. "Ask anything else, and I'll consider. But if you plan to use food as a bargaining chip, you're wasting your time."

His eyes narrowed. He straightened. "Come with me."

We left the room together. I followed a few steps behind him, sobs behind closed doors quickening my pace. Up the stairs, into a modern, dream kitchen.

"Make what you want, and we will go outside so you can enjoy some fresh air while you eat." Vince moved to the dining area across from the open kitchen, leaning against the wall in the shadows beyond the reaches of the sole light above the stainless steel stove. "This is not a privilege you must earn from me . . . but if you try to escape, I won't be able to—"

"I won't leave without Alrik." I turned my back on him, refusing to acknowledge his
gift.
In the cupboard I found a jar of Skippy and some blueberry jam. The bread was in the antique, wooden breadbox on the counter. I made a sandwich as I spoke. "Don't worry about that."

As soon as I figure out where his room is, all bets are off.

"Alrik has more value than you ever will." Vince slid open the screen door and waited for me to join him. "Remember
that
."

Got it.
I took a big bite of my sandwich and made my way to the iron bistro set at the end of the large patio. Overhead, the moon hung like a bare bulb in a basement, its glow doing little to light up the night. The stars had blinked out. Closed eyes in the heavens, ignorant to the evils below. Ignorance is bliss, as they say, and what is heaven but pure bliss? Go there, and you get to pretend everyone left behind is okay.

Keep it up.
I smiled cynically at a solitary star glinting through the haze around the moon.
Next, you'll be asking daddy if he's looking down on you. If he'll help you.
Maybe,
this time, you'll get an answer.

"Stay in the moment." Vince came up behind me. "The past can't save you."

I snorted and shook my head. "And you can?"

"I would try, if I understood." He put his hands on the back of the chair, framing me with his arms, but not touching me. "Why do you surround yourself with children?

You are bitter, but you find hope in them. Do you seek to right some wrong in your own life? What purpose do they serve?"

The answer was easy, but I didn't expect him to get it. The guy might as well have been from some other planet. He genuinely saw everything I did as self-serving.

Either that or he put on a damn good act. "I have something to give, something they need. You want to know what I get out of it? I feel like I'm worth something. Greedy bitch, aren't I?"

"I wish you were." He brushed his hand lightly over my hair, and the short strands at my nape prickled up. "A bitch would be easier to tame. Attitude is such a thin shield."