A Perfect Storm
Page 116
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One brow lifted with interest. “How?”
“Try touching me and you’ll damn well find out.” Best bet was that Spencer had Jackson with him. And maybe even the other two…
Her stomach roiled again, and she had to breathe fast to settle it. Barfing was not an option. Off to her side, Quin cowered, silent and sad, his face a mess.
Arizona spared him one look of apology, then dismissed him. He wasn’t a threat. “Look, Joel—” She paused. “Not your real name, I don’t suppose?”
“Actually, it is.”
“Great.” How had she so badly misjudged him? “You’re not only a psychopath, you’re an idiot, too.”
His eyes narrowed. “You will stop insulting me.”
“Or what? You’ll kidnap me? Hit me in the head?” She looked around. “Tie me up in a dirty room on a lumpy mattress—”
“Shut up!”
She huffed out a long breath while wiggling again as if trying to get her hands free.
She almost had her knife. “So where’d the other goons go?”
“They’re keeping watch.”
“Outside?” Wow, that’d be…too perfect.
“Yes.”
Satisfaction tipped up her mouth, but she quickly wiped it away. “Listen up, Joel. If you let me loose now, I can maybe keep you alive, otherwise—”
In a startling, unexpected move, he jerked to his feet and viciously backhanded her.
Given the earlier bonk to her brain, well, yeah, she reacted sluggishly—so he got her good. Her head snapped to the side.
Blood dripped from her lip, and she licked it away, then worked her jaw. Hopefully that was the best he had.
“Know what, Joel?” Through narrowed eyes and a distinct lack of generosity, she met his gaze again. “Now I hope they do kill you.”
Quinto took a shivering breath. “He is not Joel anymore.”
Whoa… “Come again?”
“Joel is an idiot,” said…Joel.
Arizona lowered her chin, stared at him anew and wanted to howl in frustration. In an aside to Quinto, she asked, “What’s this? Who’s this?”
“I’m one and the same,” Joel drawled, “but I’m stronger. I’m not a fool. I’m not a weak, mewling artist.”
Oh, for the love of… It needed only this. Arizona couldn’t help but laugh. When his face tightened, she laughed some more. “Here I was, doubting my instincts, thinking I’d really blown it. But of course I didn’t know you were a bad guy. I mean, the dude I met wasn’t, right? So how could I have known?”
“You couldn’t.”
Amazingly, she felt better about things. At least now she knew her judgment wasn’t completely screwed. “So you’re…what?” She snickered. “Like Jekyll and Hyde?”
“You dare to laugh at me?” He bunched up in outrage, his hands fisting, his face flushing. “You’re insane.”
“Yeah—says the kettle to the pot.” She spat blood and got her fingers around the hilt of her blade. “Jesus. My head is throbbing like a marching band.”
“You’re not natural.”
“Yeah, I know.” She looked at the window again and gave another shake of her head. Neither Quinto nor Joel paid any attention. They assumed she was clearing her thoughts. “So, Joel-number-two, did you know they ran a trafficking ring?”
He went still.
“Yeah, stow the surprise. I know all about their dirty little business.” In tiny increments, she slid her knife free of the sheath. “Those morons? Terry and Carl and everyone else associated with selling humans, well, they’ll be rotting in hell right about now. But you, you walked free.”
“Yes.”
“So tell me, did you know what they did? Did you know they bought and sold people?”
“Since I own the place, of course I knew.”
Her thoughts reeled. “You own it?”
Joel shrugged. “That’s why Joel hung around. To comfort the ones that got away.”
Oh. My. God. He really was totally cuckoo. “That’d be Joel-one, right?”
“We are one and the same!”
“But Joel-two,” she said, ignoring the bite of his insanity, “you didn’t comfort them?”
His lip curled in disdain, making him look very, very different from the needy artist. “They were used up, destroyed. Dirty. I took care of them when no one else wanted them any longer.”
“You mean you preyed on them, right?”
“After being in service, they’re weak. They need me.” He stepped closer and looked her over with sick intent. “Easy pickings.”
Oh, to nut him real good. But he was so unstable, she didn’t know what he might do. He could kill Quinto before the others could get to him.
No way did she want that death on her conscience; Quinto had been through enough. So instead of striking out, she engaged him in conversation. “What do you want with them? You rape them? Prostitute them out? What?” If she could keep him talking, the chances of survival were a whole lot improved.
“Of course not. That’d be unseemly.” He looked beyond her. “I make them…pets—just as I’ve done with Quin.”
Imagining Quinto’s shame at hearing that taunt, she rushed her movements. In the process of slicing through the bindings, her sharp blade did a little damage to her hands, too, but nothing all that serious.
“Try touching me and you’ll damn well find out.” Best bet was that Spencer had Jackson with him. And maybe even the other two…
Her stomach roiled again, and she had to breathe fast to settle it. Barfing was not an option. Off to her side, Quin cowered, silent and sad, his face a mess.
Arizona spared him one look of apology, then dismissed him. He wasn’t a threat. “Look, Joel—” She paused. “Not your real name, I don’t suppose?”
“Actually, it is.”
“Great.” How had she so badly misjudged him? “You’re not only a psychopath, you’re an idiot, too.”
His eyes narrowed. “You will stop insulting me.”
“Or what? You’ll kidnap me? Hit me in the head?” She looked around. “Tie me up in a dirty room on a lumpy mattress—”
“Shut up!”
She huffed out a long breath while wiggling again as if trying to get her hands free.
She almost had her knife. “So where’d the other goons go?”
“They’re keeping watch.”
“Outside?” Wow, that’d be…too perfect.
“Yes.”
Satisfaction tipped up her mouth, but she quickly wiped it away. “Listen up, Joel. If you let me loose now, I can maybe keep you alive, otherwise—”
In a startling, unexpected move, he jerked to his feet and viciously backhanded her.
Given the earlier bonk to her brain, well, yeah, she reacted sluggishly—so he got her good. Her head snapped to the side.
Blood dripped from her lip, and she licked it away, then worked her jaw. Hopefully that was the best he had.
“Know what, Joel?” Through narrowed eyes and a distinct lack of generosity, she met his gaze again. “Now I hope they do kill you.”
Quinto took a shivering breath. “He is not Joel anymore.”
Whoa… “Come again?”
“Joel is an idiot,” said…Joel.
Arizona lowered her chin, stared at him anew and wanted to howl in frustration. In an aside to Quinto, she asked, “What’s this? Who’s this?”
“I’m one and the same,” Joel drawled, “but I’m stronger. I’m not a fool. I’m not a weak, mewling artist.”
Oh, for the love of… It needed only this. Arizona couldn’t help but laugh. When his face tightened, she laughed some more. “Here I was, doubting my instincts, thinking I’d really blown it. But of course I didn’t know you were a bad guy. I mean, the dude I met wasn’t, right? So how could I have known?”
“You couldn’t.”
Amazingly, she felt better about things. At least now she knew her judgment wasn’t completely screwed. “So you’re…what?” She snickered. “Like Jekyll and Hyde?”
“You dare to laugh at me?” He bunched up in outrage, his hands fisting, his face flushing. “You’re insane.”
“Yeah—says the kettle to the pot.” She spat blood and got her fingers around the hilt of her blade. “Jesus. My head is throbbing like a marching band.”
“You’re not natural.”
“Yeah, I know.” She looked at the window again and gave another shake of her head. Neither Quinto nor Joel paid any attention. They assumed she was clearing her thoughts. “So, Joel-number-two, did you know they ran a trafficking ring?”
He went still.
“Yeah, stow the surprise. I know all about their dirty little business.” In tiny increments, she slid her knife free of the sheath. “Those morons? Terry and Carl and everyone else associated with selling humans, well, they’ll be rotting in hell right about now. But you, you walked free.”
“Yes.”
“So tell me, did you know what they did? Did you know they bought and sold people?”
“Since I own the place, of course I knew.”
Her thoughts reeled. “You own it?”
Joel shrugged. “That’s why Joel hung around. To comfort the ones that got away.”
Oh. My. God. He really was totally cuckoo. “That’d be Joel-one, right?”
“We are one and the same!”
“But Joel-two,” she said, ignoring the bite of his insanity, “you didn’t comfort them?”
His lip curled in disdain, making him look very, very different from the needy artist. “They were used up, destroyed. Dirty. I took care of them when no one else wanted them any longer.”
“You mean you preyed on them, right?”
“After being in service, they’re weak. They need me.” He stepped closer and looked her over with sick intent. “Easy pickings.”
Oh, to nut him real good. But he was so unstable, she didn’t know what he might do. He could kill Quinto before the others could get to him.
No way did she want that death on her conscience; Quinto had been through enough. So instead of striking out, she engaged him in conversation. “What do you want with them? You rape them? Prostitute them out? What?” If she could keep him talking, the chances of survival were a whole lot improved.
“Of course not. That’d be unseemly.” He looked beyond her. “I make them…pets—just as I’ve done with Quin.”
Imagining Quinto’s shame at hearing that taunt, she rushed her movements. In the process of slicing through the bindings, her sharp blade did a little damage to her hands, too, but nothing all that serious.
