Cage Match (22 page)

realized there was no way out.

Ransom. That was it. This might have nothing to do with the Asclepius thing. It

could be a straight-up kidnapping…by his ex-friends. Andreas knew Rabi had some

gambling debt and Timon‟s trust fund was probably running low.

But that didn‟t make sense. He knew it was them and would turn them in when

he got free. Which meant they could never let him go free, so he was going to be killed.

Theories and questions swirled in his mind faster and faster along with his pacing

the perimeter and the racing of his pulse. The need to get out of this tiny, enclosed space

was overwhelming. He could barely breathe, and he gasped for air. His vision grew

dark at the edges as blood pounded in his temples.

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“Oh God!” he muttered and sank down to the floor, putting his head between his

knees and fighting his panic under control. Was this how Jabez had felt when he was

arrested and thrown in a jail and later the fight club? How had he learned to cope with

existing in a tiny enclosure with the knowledge that every day might be his last?

The door slid open, and Andreas scrambled to his feet. His fists clenched and his

body tensed as he assumed the defensive posture Jabez had taught him.

The man in the doorway had a weapon pointed at him and a half smile on his face.

“Relax, Mr. Fortias. You‟re not in any immediate danger. I imagine you‟re wondering

where you are and why you‟re being held. I have the answers you need, but I‟m going

to have to ask you to calm down, go back to the far corner, and sit.”

For a second, Andreas hesitated, envisioning attacking the man, wrestling the gun

from his grip, and punching him senseless, but he obeyed, backing to the wall and

sliding down it to sit on his haunches.

The man lowered his weapon slightly. “Very good. Now I‟m going to briefly

explain your circumstances. You‟ve been to cage matches. Our organization holds

unique matches for exclusive clientele from across the globe. Celebrity fights.”

Andreas swallowed past the dryness in his throat before he attempted to speak.

“My friends did this to me?”

“That‟s right. We pay well for our celebrity participants, but they‟re not easy to

obtain.”

“No one notices when they go missing?”

“Of course, which is why we select carefully from around the world—a famous

Bollywood actor, a Venezuelan singer, an American corporate prince like yourself. Only

one or two of these matches are held a year, and always at different locations.”

“Sounds like a lot of trouble. Why take such a risk?”

“You‟d be surprised what our clients pay for the privilege of witnessing

something no one else on earth can claim to have seen. They thrive on the thrill and the

idea of being elite.”

Andreas nodded slowly. “A fight to the death?”

“Yes, that‟s right.”

“But neither opponent will actually make it out of here alive. You couldn‟t let

them.”

“On the contrary, our clients also pay well to own the victor. They find it

extremely arousing to wield power over a celebrity pet. If you win the match, you‟ll be

auctioned off and live out your days kept and cared for in some secret hideaway.”

“What if both participants refuse to fight? What if we won‟t put on a show for

these perverts?” Andreas demanded.

The man gave a small smile that made Andreas‟s flesh crawl. “One or the other of

you
will
attack. There‟s always a fight, because people will do anything for the chance to

live just a little bit longer.”

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Bonnie Dee

Chapter Twelve

Jabez stalked across the gym, took a couple of punches at the bag, then resumed

pacing. Even enclosed by a ceiling and walls made of glass, he felt as trapped as he ever

had in his cell. It was nearly eleven at night. Andreas still hadn‟t returned home from

the city, and he couldn‟t decide what to do.

Maybe Andreas was having a great evening out with his friend and hadn‟t felt like

calling home. Hell, it wasn‟t like he needed to check in with Jabez if he happened to

change his plans.

Jabez paced and punched, and his thoughts wavered back the other way. It wasn‟t

like him not to call. He‟d promised Mrs. Gamble he‟d be there for dinner, and he was

more thoughtful than that. Something was wrong. He‟d been killed on the highway,

mugged on the street, or worse. Jabez didn‟t want to think about what “worse” might

mean.

“Fuck it!” He took the phone Andreas had given him, which he‟d yet to use, and

put the earpiece on. Andreas wouldn‟t think he was stepping out of bounds if he gave

him a call. It was hours past when he‟d said to expect him; anyone would be worried.

The phone went to Andreas‟s message. His smooth, calm voice only made Jabez

more anxious. Something was really wrong, and that fuck-faced asshole Timon had

something to do with it. He felt it in his gut, and as a fighter he trusted his instinct

above anything. So he‟d find Timon, grab him, and punch the information out of him.

Jabez located the keys to the jet-glider and asked for Mrs. Gamble‟s help in finding

Timon‟s address. She looked it up among Andreas‟s addresses and explained to him

how to get there. “But you probably won‟t find him at home. He‟d be out this time of

evening. You think something‟s happened to Andreas, don‟t you?”

He nodded.

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105

“I do too. Much as I complain about his changes in plans, he‟s always been pretty

good about calling to tell me if he‟s not coming home in time for dinner. Maybe we

should call the police.”

Jabez shrugged. “Go ahead, if you want, but I‟m not waiting around.”

“No,” she agreed. “I‟ll call the police and the hospitals to see if there‟s been an

accident. You go find that weaselly Timon. But Andreas has taken his car. I mean land-

glider. Can‟t get used to the new word. Are you going to be able to handle that little jet

of his?”

“Yes. I can drive it.”

He went to the garage and stared at the jet-glider, as silent and still as a sleeping

wild beast. Andreas had claimed it was no more complicated than any other vehicle,

but the idea of zipping above the ground at twice the speed of a land glider in a jet that

could crash to the ground scared the shit out of him.

He climbed into the cockpit, inserted the card in the slot, and fired up the crystals.

As he studied the controls, he wished he weren‟t in an enclosed space. He was afraid

he‟d accidentally shoot forward through the garage wall rather than back out toward

the road, but Andreas was right and maneuvering the vehicle wasn‟t that hard.

Jabez had just figured out how to lift off and was screwing up his courage to do it

when his phone rang. He‟d left the earpiece in and needed only to flick it on. “Yeah?”

“Jabez, this is Timon. Andreas was supposed to meet me earlier today and never

showed. I‟ve tried calling his phone but keep getting the machine, so I thought I‟d check

with you. Have you seen him?”

“Not since this morning.” Jabez‟s mind flew as he tried to figure out the best way

to get Timon to meet in person. The last thing he wanted to do was scare him off by

accusing him of something. “Maybe he had an accident. Mrs. Gamble‟s called the

police. What do you think I should do?”

“Sit tight. I‟m sure he‟s fine, and you‟ll want to be there for him when he does

come home.”

How fucking stupid do you think I am? How would you know my number if you didn’t

have Andreas’s phone?

Jabez swallowed his rage. “Is that what you‟re doing, waiting at home? I can‟t

keep sitting around. We should go out and look for him together. Where were you

supposed to meet him? I‟ll meet you there.”

“Oh…well, okay. It‟s a new Vietnamese restaurant on Persephone Boulevard.” He

gave Jabez the address. “Do you have a way to get there?”

“Yeah. I‟m flying.”

* * * * *

He reached the city in minutes, then slowed and glided just above the streets.

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Bonnie Dee

He half expected Timon wouldn‟t show. If the man had something to do with

Andreas‟s disappearance, surely he wouldn‟t be stupid enough to meet Jabez face-to-

face. But when he reached the restaurant, Timon was sitting at one of the tables on the

sidewalk in front. He wore a sapphire blue shirt with his hair dyed a shade of orange

that made him stand out like a flame.

As Jabez approached, Timon rose. “Have you heard anything? I‟m so worried.”

He shook his head. “None of your friends have seen him?”

“No. I don‟t know what to think.”

Jabez wanted to get him out of the restaurant to somewhere less public. “Take me

some places you usually go. We‟ll look for him.”

“Wouldn‟t it be better to wait and see what the police have to say?”

“No. I think we should go now. Come on.”

There was no way Timon could refuse without appearing uncaring, but Jabez

could read the reluctance in his expression. “All right.”

As soon as they‟d walked away from the umbrella-shaded tables and the noise

and lights of the outdoor café, Jabez took hold of his arm with an iron-fingered grip.

“Hey! Lighten up there.”

Jabez leaned in close and whispered, “Shut the fuck up or I‟ll rip your nuts off and

stuff ‟em down your throat.”

“Let go of me. I don‟t know what‟s wrong with you, but I‟m not your enemy.

We‟re both worried about Andreas.”

Jabez clenched his arm even tighter and gave him a little shake. “You did

something to him. Where is he?”

Timon‟s eyes narrowed. “Let go of me, or I‟ll yell for help and tell the police you

tried to abduct me. I‟ll have your ass thrown back into prison so fast, you‟ll have jet

lag.”

Jabez slid his free hand up Timon‟s back to grasp his nape in a viselike pinch.

“And I‟ll break your neck so fast, you‟ll be dead before you hit the ground. Now tell me

what the fuck you‟ve done to Andreas.”

Timon‟s brave front crumpled as he let out a little yelp of pain. Jabez guessed no

one had ever roughed him up in his entire life, except maybe during sex.

“Where‟s your glider?” he added, easing the pressure of his hand slightly.

The other man sucked in a breath of air. “Right over there. Fuck! Have you lost

your mind? What makes you think I know anything about Andreas? He‟s just missing. I

had nothing to do with it.”

“I know you have his phone or you wouldn‟t have known my number, asshole.

Open the door.” Jabez waited while Timon opened the passenger-side door, then

pushed him inside the vehicle. “Slide across. You‟re driving.”

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107

He let go of Timon‟s neck but pulled out the knife he‟d hidden in his pocket.

When he got in beside him, he brandished the blade. “Don‟t do anything stupid, or I‟ll

shove this in you. Now take me to Andreas.”

“I don‟t know where he is. He‟s gone.”

Jabez stuck the point of the knife into his side, ripping his expensive shirt and

cutting into his flesh. “Where?”

Timon shrieked as the knife pierced his skin and clenched the steering wheel. “I

really don‟t know. It was Rabi‟s idea.”

“I‟m losing my fucking patience. What was?”

“They told me to get rid of him. I was supposed to hire someone to take him out.

But I didn‟t want to kill him. He‟s my friend.”

Jabez made another dig with the blade. He pulled it upward, slicing through skin

and shirt and leaving a red trail behind. “Who told you to kill him?”

Timon squealed. “Some of the board members. He was making waves, making

threats, and they wanted him gone. Then Rabi said we could make a little money from

the deal. He knew a guy who knew a guy, and next thing I know we were doing the job

ourselves. We sold him to these people, but I don‟t know where they‟ve got him now.”

“What people?” Jabez carved a second slice.

Tears ran down Timon‟s cheeks, and his teeth chattered as he spoke. “They host

underground fights, matches to the death between celebrities. Celebs are harder to get

than junkies from B-town, so they paid us well. Rabi said this way at least Andreas

would have a chance to survive. But I don‟t know where the match is taking place.

Could be here. Could be anywhere on the planet.”

Jabez‟s stomach rolled. He knew in his gut Timon was telling the truth. Andreas

had disappeared into the underbelly of the world. He was beyond reach, yet Jabez had

to find a way to reach him.

“Who goes to these fights? How do they find where they‟re at?” He pushed the

blade into Timon‟s side, hitting his rib.

Another scream. “Stop! I can‟t help you if I‟m bleeding to death. Only the ultrarich

are invited, and only invited guests know the location of the match. I‟m sorry we did it.

I didn‟t really want to hurt Andreas, but you don‟t tell the Fortias Corporation „no.‟”