Make Me, Sir
Page 54

Okay, I’m terrified. They could so easily turn her into a panicking, mindless animal. I don’t want that again. So she’d damn well do absolutely everything she could to escape, no matter how small the chance. No point in waiting and hoping for something better to come.
And if she managed to attract attention, then maybe—even if she died—maybe Kim or Jessica might get rescued.
Her spine straightened. Pretty weak plan, but it helped take her another step away from losing control. I’m more than an animal.
As the truck rumbled down the road, she mentally pulled up her big-girl panties—and she really, really wished she’d worn panties rather than a thong—and turned to Jessica. “You know, I had all these great insults to use at the Shadowlands, but I forgot to yell them at Jang. Wanna hear them?”
Jessica stared at her, then sucked in a shaky breath and grinned. “Sure. I’ll trade you some of my favorites.”
“Cool. My favorite is: Your birth certificate is an apology from the condom factory.”
“Nah. Jang’s too stupid to get the meaning.” Jessica thought. “How about: Why don’t you check eBay and see if they have a life for sale?”
Gabi grinned. “Not bad. Hmm—oh, I know… Is that your face or did your neck just throw up.”
The sputter of laughter Jessica gave made Gabi’s heart lighten. It was good not to be alone.
* * *
In increasing frustration, Zachary watched as the FBI agents tried to find something, anything to point them in the right direction. Dammit, where would the pickup happen? His fear for Jessica knotted his guts until he stood and paced the kitchen. Again.
From the bedroom came the sound of plaintive meows. He’d been in there earlier, holding and petting the two felines while Vance searched the apartment. The cats wanted Gabrielle. Maybe as much as he wanted Jessica. He ran his hand through his hair, craving her so badly his arms ached. Needing to shake her silly for scaring him, to hold her and let her know what she meant to him. All he could think about was how unhappy she’d been last night. Because of him.
He stared at his hands, useless with no target in sight. This not knowing…not being able to act…
On the decrepit sofa, Galen had his bad leg extended. As he talked on his cell phone, his face slowly reddened with anger, and his low voice sharpened to such a cutting edge that the other person probably had blood pooling at his feet. With a low curse, the agent snapped the phone closed and called over one of the local agents. “Campbell, meet Rhodes at your office. Grill him for anything he saw last night.”
“What happened to him?” Campbell asked. “Why isn’t he here? Is he okay? Where’s Ms. Renard?”
Galen’s eyes had darkened to total black. “The fucking asshole says Gabrielle lost her temper and punched him. Broke his nose. He spent the night in an ER, waiting to get it set.”
Campbell stared. “He left her and didn’t call in?”
“What kind of training do your agents have?” Marcus snapped.
Galen took the verbal hit without wincing. “He thought the investigation was over. Last night an agent assigned to another decoy caught a man attacking a woman behind the St. Pete club. The woman was knocked unconscious during the fight, and Thompson believed he’d got the unsub. He called Rhodes to gloat.”
“It wasn’t the kidnapper?” Zachary asked, already knowing the answer.
“Just a couple from the club wanting to play out a rape scenario. Once the woman woke up and explained, we released the man. But Thompson didn’t bother to call Rhodes back.”
“So Rhodes is free and clear?” Marcus’s hands had fisted. Zachary gave him a warning look.
“No, Marcus,” Vance said. “No matter what, he should have arranged coverage for her. We’ll deal with him later.”
Marcus stilled and visibly forced himself to relax. “I overreacted, gentlemen. Please forgive me.”
Galen gave him a thin smile. “Consider him dead meat, Marcus. You have my word.”
Zachary turned and paced back across the room, his need to do something ratcheting up another notch. Do anything—take the car and yell their names at every corner. Dammit, Jessica.
With the noise of the various conversations, Zachary at first didn’t hear the music coming from the bedroom. Mangione’s “Feels So Good.” His cell’s ringtone. “No!”
He tore across the apartment, shoved the door open, tripping over the cats and somehow managing to kick the door shut behind him before they escaped. He grabbed his jacket from the bed and yanked the cell out of the pocket.
The ringing stopped. No, dammit.
He flipped the phone open. One message. He almost listened, then forced himself to return to the others before punching Play.
“Z.” Gabrielle’s voice. Hoarse. Strained.
“Silence!” he snapped at the others. He set it on speaker and turned the volume up.
“He got us—me and Jessica. Taser and drugs. We’re in a big van—cargo-sized. A boat is picking us up at the Clearwater Docks, downtown, in about two hours.” Zachary heard a whisper. Jessica’s voice saying something about tattoos. His heart thumped hard enough to hurt. She was alive.
Gabi’s message continued, “Two men. They call each other Cesar and Jang. Jang has gang tattoos covering his arms. Don’t call this number back. It’s their phone.”
Silence.
Galen was already on the phone, barking orders. Vance had his cell out but paused to look at Marcus and Z. “Most women would be in hysterics. Those two are keeping it together. Thinking. Give me a brat any day.” He handed Zachary a slip of paper with a number scrawled on it. “Forward the message to this number for a sound analysis. I doubt we’ll get anything useful, but we’ll try.”
Zachary nodded.
Marcus tapped his fingers on the table for a second. Then he glanced at Zachary and lowered his voice. “I’m not waiting for them to say I can’t help. I’m leaving now.”
Zachary checked the agents, occupied with their planning. “I’ll drive.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Chuffing mufflers, whining motors, the screech of brakes. A car horn. Gabi knew they’d reached the city. The van slowed, sped up, slowed, jarring the cuffs on her wrists, making them burn. More blood trickled down her arm.
Jang stepped into the cargo section, leaving the door open. Holding a rag and a roll of duct tape, he walked over to her.
Her heart hammered against her ribs. They were in the city, people around. Probably going too fast for anyone to hear them. Still… Don’t miss a chance. We’ll die anyway. She screamed as loud as she could, and Jessica joined her a second later.
He backhanded Gabi. Her head snapped back, her cheek flaring with pain.
Then he kicked Jessica in the stomach. Her groan made him laugh before he turned back to Gabi.
“Watch the merchandise, asshole,” Cesar yelled.
Her face on fire with pain, Gabi struggled, jamming her shoulder against him, trying to knock him away. Jang seized her jaw and forced her mouth open. He stuffed a filthy rag in. Despite her attempts to head butt him, he got several strips of duct tape across her face, muffling her completely. When he stood up, she managed to twist far and fast enough to kick his knee. He shouted and staggered back.
With a filthy curse, he evaded her feet and slapped her hard to the floor. Her head struck, a hammer blow reverberating in her brain.
His boot caught her in the ribs. A firebomb of pain burst through her. She retched and choked, unable to inhale.
“If you puke with a gag on, you’ll die, bitch.” He watched for a second, grinning, then cuffed her hands behind her back.
Too dizzy to sit up, Gabi lay on her side, lungs heaving for air. Don’t throw up. She could only breathe though her nose. I’m suffocating… Stars filled her vision. Slow breath. Slow breath. More stars wheeled in the black sky. Helpless.
Jang had moved to Jessica, but Gabi couldn’t help. She heard a thud and a high cry of pain, then footsteps. Gabi lay still, heart rate easing as she drew air in. Carefully. Don’t panic.
A few minutes later, the van pulled to a halt, and the engine stopped.
“The boat here?” Jang asked.
“They haven’t called yet. The storm probably slowed them down. At least the rain will cut down the number of people on the docks.”
We’re at the docks. Once on a boat, there’d be no escape. God. Gabi’s fear rose until she strangled with it, but she pushed it away. If she panicked, she’d die. Think, stupid. Could she get to her feet?
“Box the redhead first,” Cesar said.
“No fucking ankle cuffs, remember?”
“Hell.” Cesar narrowed his eyes and stared a second. “Use duct tape and the chain. Hogtie them.”
“Got it.” Jang turned to Gabi. Too nauseated to fight back, she lay still as he did a couple of turns of duct tape around her ankles. He used the chain to secure her feet close to the handcuffs. “Done.”
She tried to wiggle, tried to move, and had to force panic down again. Jessica met her gaze, and she gave Gabi a sharp nod. Not giving up yet. Neither would Gabi.
“One little trip left, chickies, and then you can scream yourselves blue,” Cesar said from the driver’s seat.