Assassin Territory [Assassins Book 1] (15 page)

BOOK: Assassin Territory [Assassins Book 1]
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“It’ll be fine. I won’t go far, sweetheart, I promise. I wouldn’t leave you if I thought it was close.” Lando smiled down at her reassuringly. He traced a finger across her cheek before he turned and left.

Christy sat, feeling anxious the moment he left her sight. She tried to calm her nerves while eating. She was hungry and tired, her body ached, and she hoped Lando would return soon and tell of a decent place to rest for the night. She sat listening to the sounds around her, always wary. It wasn’t long before she heard movement behind her.

She rose and turned. Standing completely still, she resisted the urge to scream. Lando had left her alone before for short periods of time. He hadn’t been impressed to have raced frantically to her side, gun drawn, while she huddled, terrified of a chipmunk that noisily ventured forth from the foliage. The look he leveled on her on those occasions made her want to crawl into a hole with embarrassment.

As the noise approached, Christy shook. The movements were definitely louder than a chipmunk. A large bush was suddenly thrust aside and she stared, dumbstruck, at a man who looked just as surprised from her sudden appearance.

Christy’s fear turned to relief. She resisted the urge to throw herself into the man’s arms; she was so grateful to see him.
Other people, finally other people.
She anxiously approached as three other men emerged from behind the bush.

“Well hell, little lady, what the heck are you doing out here all alone?” the man asked.

His hair was blond and he was almost as tall and as well built as Lando. When he ventured closer, she noted he moved with almost the same calculating, predatory walk. The other three men weren’t as impressive, though also decidedly larger than she. All four seemed of various ages. All four wore the camouflage of hunters.

“Our plane crashed. Three of us were killed. Lando and I, my name is Christy…” Christy began, but the large blond man cut her off.

“You out here with your husband?” he asked.

Christy noted the now apprehensive look on his face. He seemed pensive, as were the others. Their gazes shifted around nervously.

“No, he’s not my husband. He’s the only other survivor from the plane crash we were in,” she explained, though she began to feel her own apprehension mounting. Her intuition began screaming something wasn’t right.

On further inspection she could see two of the men appeared to be spattered in blood. Their backpacks were large and overstuffed. Grayish fur was spilling from one. When one of the men shifted she could see a large rifle strapped to his back. Christy stepped back, sensing she should listen to her inner female voice. Perhaps it was the men’s own apprehension. The way they surrounded her. Her apprehension intensified.

“He’s close by. I’ll just call…” Christy stated, now feeling a desperate need, wanting Lando close. The blond man moved, lunging for her. Before Christy could offer a protest he had her crushed painfully to his chest, and a large dirty hand secured over her mouth.

Christy struggled, kicking her legs and pulling at his hands and sleeves, to no avail. The powerful man had her in a firm grip, pinning her arms to her sides. He tightened his large hands on her, squeezing until her struggling slowed, then ceased. Her pained whimpers came on softly expelled amounts of air. She ceased struggling and held still.

Christy’s breath became labored. She looked up at him imploringly, desperately. She could hardly breathe. She was terrified. Her eyes began to tear. She began to shake. Her ribs throbbed painfully with the pressure he exerted. She sobbed up at him as old fears surfaced. Christy could hear his rough voice a breath away from her ear.

“Now be good, honey, and maybe we’ll be gentle with you.” The man again squeezed once more making her groan before loosening his grip. She slumped within his grasp. He chuckled.

Lando?

The large blond man lifted her off her feet. He carried her back behind the bush, but not before he instructed the others to do away with the man, Lando.

* * * *

Lando walked back to where he left Christy. He hated leaving her alone, but knew she was tired and he could scout a larger area without her. He came to an abrupt halt when he noted Christy was no longer on the rock where he left her. The food he’d given her lay resting on the ground near where she sat.

“Christy?” Lando’s voice boomed with urgency. There was no way she would leave a place he put her unless there was trouble.

“Oh, she can’t answer. But don’t worry, I bet Rick is taking real good care of her.”

Lando spun in the direction of the cocky voice. A fist connected with his jaw from a different direction. Lando recoiled, then reacted; his foot came up and smashed with vehemence into another’s face. Blood spattered. The man went spinning, and tumbled to the ground.

Another blow connected at Lando’s temple. He spun and sent his fist into a man’s belly. He heard the answering groan; the man’s knees buckled, sending him to the forest floor, rendering him incapacitated. The smallest of the men who had been standing back swung hard and a large heavy piece of wood connected with Lando’s head, sending him into oblivion. He sank to the ground.

“Damn, the man’s got an iron jaw,” one of the men complained, grasping his hand.

“Damn iron foot, too,” another man complained while holding his chin as blood dripped from his nose and mouth.

“Just get him up,” the third man said. It wasn’t long before Lando’s limp body was tossed into the frigid water, where the current carried him downstream.

* * * *

Christy’s hands were tied behind her back. Not far from where she and Lando stopped was an overgrown road. Once the other men returned she was thrown into a jeep and they left to return to a tiny cabin not far away. Christy was thrown over the blond man’s shoulder and carried inside the cabin. Her pitiful struggles stopped when the large blond man whacked her behind, painfully, demanding she keep still.

“Please don’t hurt me,” Christy pleaded once more as the blond man fondled her with rough hands for a few moments before wandering off to the fridge. He cracked open a beer. Upon entering the cabin, he tossed her onto a couch. Christy scooted as far into the corner of it as she was able. She pulled her legs up to her chest.

“Well, it doesn’t get much better than this, does it, boys? Kodiaks for the taking, wolves and cougars for the taking, and now a woman for the taking,” the blond man joked, and then downed half of his beer.

“What do we do with her, Rick?” one of the other men asked.

“Use your imagination,” Rick said, and again sauntered toward Christy, his intent clear.

Christy cowered back onto the couch she was sitting on, her tears flowing uninhibited. Her body shook as Rick sat beside her and once more reached to stroke her breasts. He shoved his large hand between her clasped thighs. He glared into her eyes. He pressed his body against her, pinning her to the couch. Christy began to sob uncontrollably, his intent was clear.

“No, I mean after we’re done here. We already got rid of the guy, but what do we do with her? I don’t care much for the thought of throwing her in the stream when we leave,” he said with some distress. “Poaching is one thing, but murder is an entirely different matter. If their plane crashed, someone will be looking for her. Besides, the other guy was huge and fought back; we can justify that, and get our story straight. But killing her won’t be in self-defense. If we’re ever caught, no one would believe she attacked us, no matter if we all stuck to the same story, she’s too small. And I can see what you have in mind; it’s what we all got in mind. You can’t say you raped someone in self-defense. Not a judge in the world would buy that one.”

“Well, maybe if she’s a good girl I might take her home with me,” Rick replied. He held Christy’s hair in a tight fist and kissed her throat, his mouth leaving a trail of wet slopping kisses on her jaw line.

“Please don’t hurt me, don’t beat me,” Christy cried out. He reeked of stale beer and he bit in tender places.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” Rick said. He nuzzled her neck and nipped at her jaw.

“Much,” one of the other men said, and they all laughed.

Christy’s breathing became labored. She was too afraid. They crowded around her, intimidating her. Her chest heaved with spasms. Images of being huddled against the wall at her parents’ home while in agony flashed through her mind. Chad was over her imprisoning her in the same way. The pain of her broken bones overwhelmed her. The taste of her own blood choking her at the back of her throat while an evil encompassing shadow towered over her helpless body assailed her.

Her heart thundered filling her ears with noise. She felt as though she were having a heart attack. She could feel her face drain of blood. Her body began to shudder in a way she knew she could never control. It would kill her to be raped by four men. She whimpered pleading words around a quaking jaw until her voice could no longer be heard or understood over her ragged breathing. A terrible roaring noise started in her head. Her hearing began to fade, and then seemed nonexistent. She saw white spots of lights.

“All right now, just relax,” she thought she heard a deep voice say from far away.

Christy’s eyes rolled back into her head when she was unable to take in enough air. She jerked violently once. Her spasms then ceased abruptly. Her head fell forwards onto Rick’s surprised shoulder. He grasped her limp form, and his roaming hands stilled.

“Well crap, Rick, is she dead? We didn’t scare her to death, did we?” one of the men asked. “I don’t want to take a dead woman, and I was looking forward to this.”

“No, she ain’t dead. She fainted. She’s scared shitless. She’ll be fine in a little while,” Rick said, sighing softly. He placed his hand over her wildly beating heart. He should have realized this would happen. He berated himself quietly. She might already have been in shock from the plane crash she said she was in.

He should have taken her to his room and handled her alone before she was faced with all of them. She would have been terrified by him, but four of them were enough to send any woman into a panic. Now he would have to wait. An unconscious woman would give him no trouble, yet he wanted her to cry out for him.

He could tell she would beg real nice. She was a pretty little thing. Maybe he would take her home with him after all when they were finished here. He lived in the middle of nowhere, all alone. Once knocked up, she would be trapped and completely dependent on him. He could use the baby to make her do whatever he wanted. She would be unable to escape. Rick liked the idea. Now the thought of the other men presented a problem. He wouldn’t really care whose kid it was. But maybe he didn’t like the idea of the others tasting what could be his alone. He was interested the moment he saw her.

“Let me dump her on my bed. We best get busy with the animals we got; she can wait, the buyer won’t,” Rick said. He pulled Christy’s limp body easily into his arms, enjoying the soft, warm feel of her helplessness pressed to him.

“Well, why your bed?” one of the men asked angrily.

“You want to make something of it?” Rick asked, and glared dangerously at the smaller man.

With ease, Rick slung Christy’s slight form over a broad shoulder, leaving a fist free. The other, smaller man knew better than to take him on. They weren’t friends, associates was a better description, and their names didn’t matter to Rick. The puny fuck’s glass jaw showed bruising from where Lando struck him earlier. Each of the three looked a sorry sight. All of them were weak idiots. Rick’s thoughts amused him.

“Just be sure you leave some for us,” was grumbled instead, then the smaller man backed off, as the two offered no aid.

Rick strode off and was soon placing Christy down on his bed. He stroked back a long lock of her soft hair, enjoying the feel of it as he threaded it through his fingers.

She stirred slightly. “Lando,” she whimpered, then remained silent.

Rick pledged she would soon be whimpering and screaming his own name. He decided he wanted to keep this one. Binding her ankles and throwing a blanket over her bound body, Rick rose to gaze down on her supine form.

Keeping her might not be such a bad idea, he reasoned. No one would find her, after all. She would be good company for him, especially during the frigid, snowbound months of inactivity. It wouldn’t take long for him to tame someone so small and helpless.

The more Rick thought about it the more the idea appealed to him. Smiling, he gave a quick kiss to Christy’s forehead. He would help the others for a while, then return to claim her. This trip was proving to be prosperous. He would revel in his new wealth in a short time.

Chapter 10

Lando pulled his battered, exhausted, bruised body up onto a slippery rock. For a second, he rested his cheek on the smooth hard surface. The icy creek lapped at his back and ass, dragging at his floating calves and feet. His arms, spaghetti, he clung and tried to pull his tortured body up. His fingers clawed the rock for a decent grip. The higher he climbed, the deeper the foliage, and he clutched roots and grass. With agonizing slowness he rolled onto the dry bank. He pulled his arms around his chest, shivering horrifically. Teeth clacking hard enough to hurt his jaw. Lando was frozen to the bone.

He had regained consciousness after having become entangled in debris in the stream. Though freezing cold, the stream was only a little less than waist deep. The current had been strong. His frozen, aching fingers felt as though they’d been smashed in a door, he couldn’t feel his toes. His mind worked from a deep fog, and it took him a while to maintain a decent hold to disengage his thoughts from a jumbled mess.


Lando
.” He heard a small, soft cry.

He knew it was Christy calling to him. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but he was certain it was her.

“I’m coming, sweetheart, just hang on,” he said aloud, though his voice was tired and he never in his life remembered feeling so weary.

Lando rose and his bones creaked as he tested his joints. Nothing was broken, though his head throbbed. More than once his ex-boss told him he had the mind of a steel trap. Apparently the steel part was right.

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