“But-but, I went through your purse. I found the shower notice."
She couldn't help laughing. “That's for the baby we're adopting. Jon told you all about it. Or at least he said he did."
Joe's face went blank. She could almost see him trying to process the new information.
“So, you're not pregnant?” he concluded at last.
“That's right."
“So I shot Preston for nothing? No, wait! Not for nothing. The son of a bitch still took Sharae away from me. He deserved to die, the bastard!” Joe's face flushed with anger suddenly. “And you! You're just as bad. Making me think you were pregnant. Well, it doesn't matter now, you teasing little slut. I'll just sell you myself. Or keep you. Yeah, that's what I'll do. I'll just keep all four of you teasing, lying bitches!"
“No, Joe. You have to let us go. You can't-"
“Shut the fuck up!” He slapped her and forced the ball-gag back into her mouth. “That's right. Just shut up like the other ones. Oh man, this is going to be so goddamn cool. I got four slaves for the price of two, and it's gonna be a fuck-fest every day from now on.” He eyed Megan's tightly bound form. She shrank beneath his stare. “Starting right now with you."
CHAPTER 30
Preston didn't know how it felt to be hit by a train, but he figured he had a pretty good idea now. He also had a good notion of how lucky he was. He'd had a feeling Joe would pull some kind of stunt at Megan's and went prepared, wearing his bulletproof vest. Fortunately, he hadn't taken it off by the time Joe showed up shooting first and asking questions… well, he never did ask any questions.
Despite the pain he was in, Preston felt lucky that the first shot had taken a gouge out of his shoulder. The spattered blood from that shot helped hide the fact there was no blood from the second one.
The worst part of the entire ordeal had been playing dead, especially when Angel returned home. He had to lie there, hoping Joe wouldn't notice his occasional breaths, while he listened to his precious Angel beaten and subdued.
At the moment, though, he needed to dress his wound. He grunted in pain. Just getting to his feet was an effort. The second shot had caught him square in the chest, and the impact may have cracked a rib or two. Each breath he took was accompanied by stabbing pains.
One step at a time, he found his way to the bathroom. As he passed by one of the bedrooms, he paused to catch his breath. He heard a shuffling noise and froze, praying Joe hadn't come back and to check on his kill. No, it sounded like a woman moaning. And it came from the bedroom, where he had Suzy tied up. Why would Joe leave her behind? It didn't make sense.
Cautiously, he opened the door and peered in. Sure enough, the girl still dangled precariously in the strappado he'd left her in. He stepped into the room and she lifted her head and stared at him, a look of terror on her face. For a second, he felt sorry for her. She had no idea what was happening. She probably heard the shots and all the commotion and thought she'd been left to slowly die here all alone.
His mind seemed to be working in slow motion, but as he approached the bound girl, he gradually recalled how he'd scouted her out at a hospital. She was a nurse! She could help him.
With shaking hands, Preston unbuckled the ball-gag and pried it out of Suzy's mouth. He couldn't remember how long she'd been left like this, but judging from her groans as she worked her jaw muscles, it must have been quite a while.
“Can you talk?” he asked her.
“I–I think so."
“I need your help."
“You need my help,” she said. “You kidnap me and tie me up and then expect me to help you?"
“Look, I understand how you feel, but I'm not sure I can stop this bleeding myself. I don't want to die.” He paused to let that sink in. “I'll let you go if you agree to help me."
She studied his face for a few seconds. “And if I don't agree?"
“Then I try to fix myself up. Maybe I can, maybe not. In either case, you're sure as hell not going anywhere."
She started to cry. “All right,” she sobbed, “I'll help you. Just untie me. It hurts so much."
“Okay.” He tried to smile, then walked over to the other side of the room. He opened a dresser drawer and pulled something out, then he untied the rope holding her arms up behind her.
She groaned loudly as the pressure on her shoulders eased at long last. Preston stepped up and pressed the cold barrel of a gun against her head. “Just to be sure you don't double-cross me,” he snarled. He untied her remaining bindings with difficulty, using just one hand.
Once all the ropes were finally removed, he gave her a few minutes to massage her limbs, then directed her to the medicine cabinet, staying behind her, gun ready.
Preston sat on the toilet and watched Suzy rummage through the cabinet with shaking fingers. He removed his blood soaked shirt and tossed it in the waste basket.
“Ether?” she muttered, examining a bottle.
“Sometimes the girls need help sleeping."
She grabbed the bottle of peroxide, gauze pads and a bandage, and set them on the counter. She looked at him with a determined stare. “Why did you kidnap me?” she demanded, in a voice she couldn't quite keep steady.
“Felt like it,” he replied. He nudged her with the gun. “C'mon, blondie, hurry up. I have work to do."
Suzy went to work on him, cleaning his wound, then applying the gauze pads and bandages. “The bleeding should stop soon, but you really should get that stitched up,” she said.
He laughed softly, then winced. “Right. And how would I explain the gunshot? Get a clue, blondie."
“I do have a name, you know."
“Yes, I know. Suzy Sinclair, age thirty-four. Head of the pediatric ward. Married and divorced three times. No kids, no boyfriend. But you do want a girlfriend.” He grinned as she blushed. “I do my homework, blondie."
“Look, Mr. Know-It-All. I fixed you up. I held up my end of the deal. Now it's your turn."
He lifted the gun and pointed it at her. “No. You look, Suzy. I'm not in the mood for your attitude. And I'm not in the business of releasing girls after I've snatched them."
She stared at the gun. “B-but you said-"
“I know what I said. Here's another clue. Never trust your kidnapper.” He watched her face as she registered the fact he'd lied to her.
“You bastard,” she hissed angrily.
“Thank you."
She reached for a pair of scissors.
“I'd set those down if I were you.” Preston aimed the gun at her head. “Unless you're prepared to die right now."
She hesitated, then set the scissors down. “Please!” she pleaded. “I promise I won't say a word to anyone, I swear I won't. I just want to go home."
Preston shook his head. “Playing to my sympathy won't work. I have none. Now… take that bottle of ether you noticed."
Suzy didn't move.
Now!"
She began to sob quietly as she did as he ordered.
“Make one move I don't like, I'll blow your pretty face off. That's one promise you can count on me keeping."
She nodded.
“Now shake some out onto those pads."
With trembling hands she sprinkled the remaining gauze pads with the clear liquid.
Preston grinned, despite his exhaustion. “Now put the pad over your nose and mouth and breathe deeply."
She stared at him. “No, please. I can't-"
“You can and you will. Now do it!"
Slowly she brought the ether-soaked pads up to her face. She paused and looked at him. He could see the plea in her eyes.
“Do it."
Her shoulders slumped as she pressed the pad to her face.
“Breathe deep, blondie.” He watched her take a breath, then another. She sagged and dropped to the floor.