Crystal Mac: A prologue novella to Captive Series Book 3 HELL'S HILLTOP (2 page)

He opened his mouth to answer, but paused. Crystal also noticed that the room next door had become suspiciously quiet, the nasally connotations of Rafferty’s moans ceasing to permeate
the basement.

When Mack Truck left her doorway to investigate, she didn’t hesitate.
After two deep breaths, keeping her eyes trained on the aged brick before her, Crystal cleanly dislocated her shoulder. She swallowed back the pain and cleared the few inches between her fingertips and the knot at her ankles. Just a few… more… seconds…

____

Mac pulled the cord and the light bulb overhead illuminated the two trussed up forms before him.

Shit. No wonder the old fart had gone silent. Rafferty was passed out, hi
s normally tanned pallor a pretty shade of blue-aster. Mac ripped off the tape covering his mouth. The man jolted awake, took in deep gulps of air as he tried to see through the blindfold.

“If you’d quit your crying, your nose wouldn’t fill up
with snot.” Mac held the earphones away and repeated himself over the obnoxious music.

Rafferty swallowed hard, his chest heaving beneath the dirty hospital gown
he’d worn since his capture. “You… you’re going to pay for this—”

Mac inspected the bandage
over the man’s fresh wound. “Derek wouldn’t have taken your eye if you’d left his woman alone.”

Normally, something so grotesque would garner an ounce of sympathy, b
ut Mac had none for the man who’d kidnapped and nearly raped Melanie. When that attempt to force Derek’s cooperation failed, he’d moved on to the couple’s son, an innocent fifteen-month-old boy.

Mel
anie and baby DJ were not Mac’s family, but when Derek was believed to have died two years ago, Melanie was left with a broken heart, a low-paying job and a baby on the way. So, Mac had agreed to share rent, which made him an instant uncle figure to the tyke he’d helped raise. Now that Derek was back…

Wow. Derek was back. But
Mac couldn’t think about the changes that miracle alone would bring on. This wasn’t about him. It was about protecting the people he loved from the ghosts that had accompanied Derek’s resurrection.

He moved to the other billiard table where their other prisoner lay tied to each corner in X fashion. He
removed blindfold, tape and earphones. “What about you, kid? Comfortable?”

The acne-faced assassin
blinked wildly beneath winged eyebrows. “Please,” River groaned. “I did you a solid, man. I told you about Lana. She’s the one who knows the guy you’re looking for.”

“We need to confirm it’s not all bu
llshit before we let you go.” Which would never happen. Just like all IGP ghosts, River was legally dead, highly trained, and too dangerous to turn back out into society.

“
But I can’t listen to this shit anymore,” River whined.

Mac delivered a hearty pat to the cheek. “
You're breaking my heart, kid.” And everything was put back into place.

He addressed Rafferty again. “I’ll
let you catch your breath. But if I hear one sound come out of that mouth, I’ll tape it shut again. Got it?”

The man nodded his understanding. Satisfied, Mac headed back to Crystal’s room. At least she was easier on the ey
es despite the fact her heavy black makeup was now streaked down her face from desperate tears.

Derek
told them he’d contemplated suicide both times he’d been forced to withdraw from their drug. If he hadn’t been restrained, he would have. Not only was it used to heighten their senses, accelerate the healing process, and improve cognitive skills—which made them nearly superhuman—it also acted as a chemical leash to keep them close and in line. Derek was the only one with enough outside incentive to attempt a defection.

Love
: the most powerful drug of all.

When Mac
entered Crystal’s room it was to find a vacant chair with loose ropes coiled on the floor.

Before that feeling of dread could descend, his neck
hairs prickled with her presence. He whirled around and pinned her to the wall with his forearm.

The air left Crystal’s lungs with a
whoosh
. It wasn’t until she released an exaggerated cough that he realized she’d
let
him catch her.

With a curse, he let her go.
“Dammit, Crystal!”

S
he made a show of relocating her shoulder. Pain didn’t seem to be much of a factor, though Mac had to battle a wave of nausea. He’d done that once or twice. It was no smiling matter.

“I told Derek I was in,” she said with an air of detachment. “It was my way of showing you since you weren’t going to let me go on your own.”

Mac rubbed a hand over his head, eyed her with doubt as he thumbed in numbers on his cell phone.

Melanie answered
. “What’s up?”

“Get your boyfriend down here. Crystal’s loose.”

She repeated the orders, though he could hear her following Derek through the house.

“Don’t even think of coming down here, Mel,” he barked, pissed off since Derek hadn’t thought to tell her that himself.

Meanwhile, Crystal had ambled into the main room of the basement. Noise exploded from the billiard tables when Rafferty caught sight of his only female recruit. “Kill him, Crystal! Now!”

Shit. Mac’s guts wrenched as he realized he’d forgotten to replace the blindfold. If Crystal decided to follow her han
dler’s orders, she could do it. The hammer he’d used to bash in one skull already was close enough to grab in a hurry, so he just watched as she approached Rafferty. Waited for her next move.

Without a word, Crystal took the roll of duck tape in her delicate hand, tore off a piece and flattened it beneath
his fuming nostrils. Her look was sad.

“I’m not one of you anymore,” she stated with a small frown. “I’m reclaiming my life. And if I die, at least it won’t be under your command.”

Mac’s breath caught. Something about her made him
want
to believe what she said. Then again, he was far too soft when it came to the gentler sex.

Footsteps moved in an awkward rhythm to
ward the door above the stairs. Crystal replaced Rafferty’s blindfold and hopped onto the pool table where she sat with legs swinging while he wiggled in his bonds behind her. When Derek made it into the light, she met his dark look with wary caution.

The m
an hid his fatigue well behind the light layer of scruff he’d always worn. His black hooded uniform had been discarded in favor of an old concert T-shirt and jeans. At least now he looked normal. Not so ominous.

Unsure of where
the tense silence was heading, Mac said, “She had a chance to run and didn’t take it.”

“I forgot she can dislocate her shoulders,” Derek answered, absolving Mac of blame. “Why didn’t you do that before?” he asked her.

Crystal shrugged, moved her arm back and forth to loosen the joint. “Maybe you were right when you said I’d already made my choices.” Her impish smile was for the blond beauty who’d followed Derek down the stairs. “By the way, he was in my bed last night when we had that heart-to-heart.”

The words were designed to rankle. Derek
reacted before Melanie could. “I was tied up and half-dead, remember.”

Mac rolled his eyes while
Melanie’s delicate nostrils flared. “Not helping, Bennett.”

Despite maintaining that ove
rall angelic appearance, Mel’s heather-blue eyes had developed a cautious edge. She was no delicate flower. The past few days had changed her; taken her through an endless string of impossible challenges that had toughened her soul.

Sensing
she was about to unleash some anger, Mac cupped her shoulders from behind in an effort to quell the urge. The act unleashed a whole host of lethal vibes from Derek, who didn’t appreciate Mac’s role in his family’s life.

Too fucking
bad. Mac had a right to stake his small claim in Mel and DJ’s lives, not that romance had ever come into play. The sooner Derek learned that, the better.

“Aw…
” Crystal sent a saccharine smile toward them. “Aren’t they cute together?”

“Shut up, Crystal,” all three answered in unison.

Her light eyes moved back and forth between them, feigning ignorance. “Oops. My bad. They look really… comfortable, is all.”

“We’re friends,” Mac rumbled,
dropping his arms when Mel moved away.

Crystal’s mout
h curled with a satisfied smirk. “Since we’re all here,” she continued, “you may as well tell me what to do.”

Derek
jerked a chin toward their prisoners. “Somewhere else.”

“Rafferty can’t hear you,” Mac
reminded him, unwilling to bring Crystal upstairs into the living part of the old house they occupied. “Earphones. Remember?”

“We’
ll take her to the commons room,” Derek said through a set jaw.

Mac searched his memory for a time when he and Derek hadn’t butted heads and
failed to find one. Ironically, a woman was always involved in one manner or other. To avoid another conflict, he decided to remain downstairs. “I’ll stay here, then. Keep an eye on our prisoners.”

“No. You’re part of this. Austin can stand guard for a while.”

Mac’s shoulders instantly squared. “Since when do you order Austin around in his own house?”

“It’s called teamwork, asshole, you should try it sometime.”

“Children!”

All eyes fell on
Crystal who now stood on the pool table. “I’m fighting a killer case of cotton mouth. Think we can move past this macho bullshit and get on with things?”

Melanie was already on the phone.
“Okay, thanks.” She disconnected the call and said to Derek, “Your sister is sending Austin down.”

Derek’s nod was brief, but
now the two were locked in some sort of amorous gaze. Mac crossed his arms, watched the visual exchange of hearts and flowers while their prisoners bled and suffered in the background.

Rafferty
’s pained moan broke the spell.

Derek
turned around and stared down at the man who’d caused them all so much misery. He brought a hand up to his chest, rubbed the bullet wound he’d acquired for his attempt to defect from IGP. “God, I wish I could look that fucker in the eye right now,” he murmured.

“You can’t,” Crystal reminded him. “
Me and Ty worked hard to make your wound count for something. Rafferty thinks that bullet killed you, and if he knows you’re alive and he escapes, everyone in this house will be used to lure you out.”

Mac was still trying to wrap his head around that one.
“That doesn’t mean Ty had to lie to us,” he growled, the anger over a trusted friend’s deception flaring anew. “Mel had to go through the grieving process all over again.” At least, until Derek was found alive in Crystal’s bed.

“Why does everyone blame Ty?
” Crystal said with a scowl. “Rena’s the one who convinced him to play along. Be mad at her.”

“We expect that shit from your sister,” Melanie said with crossed arms. “Ty should have known better.”

Derek’s jaw pulsed beneath the heavy whiskers. “Still, Crystal’s right. The important thing is Rafferty thinks I’m dead, and it’s too soon to lose that advantage.” Then he pointed out the bulge between Rafferty’s legs. “Besides, I imagine he’s plenty occupied with that.”

“
Hard ball,” Melanie muttered with a shiver. “Rafferty described it as blue balls times ten. And he gloated when you had it during your withdrawals, Derek, so I wouldn’t feel too sorry for him.”

“Believe me, pity is far from what I’m feeling,” Derek ground out. “He’s living the worst ki
nd of hell imaginable right now… and I wear the fear in his soul like a second skin.”

The s
tarkly lit basement filled with booming footsteps as Austin Cahill—two hundred-thirty pounds of solid muscle—descended the stairs. “I’m here,” he stated loudly when he reached the bottom, towering over them all. “Go strategize, I got this.”