Switched (18 page)

“No.”

“Maybe you two should get some sleep,”
said the agent playing with his phone. “We got everything here.”

Brad and Eric looked at each other, then
at the agent.

“I think it’s unanimous that we’re not
sleeping until we know Kali and Amy are safe,” Brad said.

Eric gave him a nod and turned back
toward the television. The older woman cooking was making pan seared salmon.

“Suit yourselves,” the agent said. Then
he went back to his game.

Brad couldn’t sit here. It was driving
him crazy. He stood up, causing all three men to look at him. “I’m making some
coffee.”

He left their mumbles of agreement
behind him and embraced the silence in the kitchen. It was always easier to
think alone than in a room with other people. You never knew who was watching
you think. If there was one thing Brad didn’t like, it was showing too much
emotion in front of other people. It gave them clue to your kryptonite and with
that, you could be destroyed. He almost laughed at his own thoughts. He knew
his emotions weren’t a weakness and there was nothing wrong with worrying for
Kali’s safety. He worried about Amy, too. She’d become a good friend and she
made his best friend happy. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if he lost either of
them. Then there was Eric, who was just as quick to bury his emotions like Brad
did. Not only did Eric just find out one of his old friends had been killed by
the Russian mafia, but the woman who was his world could be facing a similar
fate. Neither of them could do a damn thing about it. It was the waiting that
was the worst.

Maybe sleep was a good idea. He looked at
the door to the medicine cupboard. He had some Vicodin in there from when he
had a root canal six months ago. That would certainly relax him enough to
sleep. The thing about sleep was that when you slept, time didn’t matter. One’s
perception of time wasn’t linear. You simply fell asleep and when you woke up,
hours had passed. All the same he didn’t want Kali or Amy thinking that while
they were facing an uncertain future, the men who loved them were asleep and
wholly unconcerned about them. He poured the ground coffee into the filter and
put the filter basket back into the coffee maker. It was already filled with
water, so he turned it on. It came to life with a few pops and slurping noises.
He made a mental note that he probably would need a new coffee maker before the
year was out.

He took his time taking four coffee cups
out of the cupboard, putting out the sugar and cream, and pulling the now cold
pizza from the refrigerator. He looked at the clock again. Only four minutes
had passed. Grinding his teeth together he opened the pizza box and took out a
slice. It was pepperoni and onion, Kali’s favorite. Taking a bite he discovered
it didn’t really taste good. It was doughy and cold and with it the bitterness
of helpless anxiety clung to the back of his throat. He washed it down with a
glass of water.

Eric finally wandered into the kitchen.
“Oh, I forgot about the pizza, I’m starving.”

Brad pushed the box toward him a little,
realizing neither of them had eaten since at least lunch. “It’s all yours.”

Eric grabbed a slice and started
devouring as if he hadn’t eaten in days. He grabbed himself a glass of water,
looking at the coffee pot to see whether or not the pot was done brewing. It
wasn’t.

“Coffee should be ready in a few
minutes.” Brad looked at his partially eaten slice of pizza.

“You have to eat something, man,” Eric
told him. “You’re no good to Kali tired and cranky because you haven’t eaten.
Just be tired.”

Eric made it sound like everything was
going to be alright.

“What if one of them gets shot?” Someone
had to say it.

His friend shrugged. “Kali is wearing a
vest. Brocco promised me they’d make sure Amy was as safe as they could make
her… there’s nothing we can do. You’ve been benched.”

“It’s a flesh wound. I could have easily
walked it off.” Even as he said it, his thigh throbbed a little. That Vicodin
was sounding better and better.

The coffee finished brewing and they
each took a cup and headed back to the living room.

Eric sat down and changed the channel to
one showing
Men in Black
. It had just started.

“Hey, there’s coffee and cold pizza in
the kitchen. Cups are on the counter, help yourselves,” he told the agents,
then sat down and resolved to watch the movie. If anything maybe he could
convince himself nothing was wrong and Kali and Amy would be walking through
the front door in a matter of hours.

Chapter
Twelve

She felt comfortable leaving Amy
upstairs where it was relatively safe. Gary said nothing as he led her back through
the hall, down the staircase, and back to the large living room area where
Alexi was sitting with Brocco and Salazar.

“Now you see,” Alexi said, waving his
hand in her direction, “This is more like it.”

It was hard to keep from cringing when
he talked. While most women might have found Alexi’s accent attractive, it only
reminded her of Victor and the years of her life she wasted being his. She
shoved the memory out of her mind and carefully found herself a seat, making
sure to sit with her knees bent and ankles crossed like more refined women did.

“I think you should sit here next to me
when Victor arrives. He should be here very soon. We don’t want to seem distant
lovers, no?” Alexi winked at her.

Her stomach jumped. No, despite her
musing about what it would have been if she had been Alexi’s instead of
Victor’s for all those years, he did absolutely nothing for her. Men who winked
were creepy. Or at least he was creepy when he winked. “Sure. When his car gets
here, I’ll move.”

Alexi tipped his head thoughtfully. “I
like feisty women. I have to say I am somewhat surprised you were with Victor.
He likes his women more… spineless.”

She gave him a bored look. “It’s because
of Victor that I am the cold-hearted bitch I am today.”

“Would you like a drink?” he offered.

“Ice water would be fine.” She looked at
Brocco and Salazar who sat politely on the couch, every so often glancing at
their watches.

Gary went behind the bar and grabbed her
glass of ice water and brought it to her, then returned to his position
standing in front of the bar. She wondered if they were trained to do that, or
if these men just figured out where to stand and what their duties were without
really being told. Alexi hadn’t told Gary to get her water at all.

It was while she mused on the idea of
having minions that the man by the door answered the intercom and announced
that Victor had arrived with two cars and five men total. “Do you want us to
check for guns?”

Alexi sounded exasperated. “Of course.
Disarm all of them, except Victor.”

“Brilliant plan,” she told him, knowing
damn well that Victor was going to be furious when he saw her.

Alexi patted the couch next to him.
“Come and sit next to me, my darling. We need to make nice to keep up
appearances. We wouldn’t want Victor to realize this isn’t real.”

With an inward groan she put on her best
party smile and sat next to Alexi. Close even. She could act. She spent at
least the final three years with Victor acting and out of necessity; she’d
gotten good at it.

He leaned back into the couch and put
his arm on the couch behind her. She stayed perched on the edge.

When she saw him her stomach did a
somersault, but she kept her expression calm and even. Victor surveyed his
surroundings and finally allowed his eyes to settle on Alexi and at last, on
her. There was a glint of cruelty in his eyes.

“Have a seat,” Alexi said, gesturing to
the chair to Alexi’s left.

For that moment she was thankful she was
sitting to Alexi’s right.

“This isn’t a social call,” Victor spat.

The mere sound of his voice made her
skin crawl.

“Of course not,” Alexi agreed with a
malicious smile. “You and your men think you can come into my town and take my
fiancée at your whim?”

Victor frowned at him. “You would marry
this
Kúrva
?”

“She was only a whore because you made
her one. To me she is a princess, because I made her one.” Alexi’s hand found
her knee and he squeezed, clearly gaining pleasure by watching Victor’s eyes
follow his hand.

“I’m not here to discuss the nature of
whores. I want my money back, I want my property back. I expect to be paid back
in interest.” Victor stood resolute in his demands and that smug, superior look
on his face made Kali seethe with rage.

“Well, my dear old friend. It appears
we’re at a crossroads. As I see it, you’re the one who owes me. You owed me a
quarter of a million dollars. What did I get? I got a beautiful woman and some
cash up front. As I see it, we’re even.” Alexi leaned forward and put his arm
around her shoulders. “Isn’t that right, darling?”

She gave him a coy smile and tried not
to act surprised when Alexi kissed her full on the lips, replete with tongue.
She even kissed him back to make it look real even though her entire body felt
like it was recoiling.

When Alexi pulled away she saw the flash
of anger in Victor’s eyes and saw him reach inside his jacket. Drawing in a
sharp breath, she leapt away and hit the ground when, for the second time in a
day, gunfire rang in her ears.

The first thing she saw was Alexi
doubled over and then she felt his hands on her. There was no mistaking
Victor’s touch. He had her by the hair, the gun poised under her chin. Alexi’s
men and the agents backed off.

“Let her go and no one gets hurt,”
Brocco started.

Victor lowered the barrel of the gun and
fired at Brocco, who immediately fell backward. The gun went back under her
chin.

She wanted to fight the trembling, she
did, but she couldn’t. It was involuntary. Part of her just wanted him to kill
her already, but she knew that’s not how Victor was. No, he was a special kind
of asshole. He was the kind of man who wanted to torment his victims for his
own pleasure and amusement; the sadistic fuck.

Struggling against him, she stopped when
he tightened his grip around her.

“You thought you could get away from me,
Laura. I should just kill you here, but I think maybe Alexi’s men don’t have
the stomach for killing women. Come on,” he said into her ear. He shoved her
toward the door, but she tripped and fell to the ground, almost face first. She
felt arms on either side of her lift her up as two of Victor’s men led her
toward the door. Victor followed, his gun trained on Alexi’s men. None of the
men pulled their guns or fired at Victor.

It was probably part of the plan, she
guessed. She hoped.

Then she felt Victor’s forearm around
her throat again as they started outside. The two men left and went ahead,
probably to get the car.

“When I get you back to the hotel I am
going to tie you up and beat you senseless,” he said into her ear.

She set her jaw and didn’t respond. Not
even a whimper.

He shook her a little. “Do you hear me
whore?”

When they rounded the corner there
appeared to be no one there in the darkness. It must have been a new moon
because it was really dark and all the front lights were off. There was a
rustling behind them and then all around. Victor shoved the gun further up
under her chin, the coward.

When the lights went on and Victor
realized they were surrounded, she began to hear the fear in his voice.

“Stay back or I’ll kill her,” he warned.

She didn’t doubt it. He probably would.
That’s when it occurred to her that she had something that, when she was with
Victor, she never had before. Her days of being someone’s punching bag and sex
slave were over. If she was going to die. She was going to die fighting. With
that final thought she positioned her right arm, lifted her right leg, brought
the side of her shoe down his shin and slammed her high heel on his foot while
simultaneously bringing her elbow back to strike him. For that brief moment
Victor cried out and let go long enough that she dove to the ground and rolled
away into a flower bed. There was another gun shot and a pained cry from
whoever had been shot.

She stayed put, her hands over her head.
Then she heard running and voices and a siren close by.

“Miss Stanton?”

She heard the voice and looked up to
find Agent Salazar with his hand out to her. She took it and got up, realizing
the strap on the nice dress she was wearing was now broken. Forcing herself to
look over to where Victor was, she saw him handcuffed and being treated by the
paramedics. He must have been shot. The cry had come from him.

Pulling away from Salazar, she went over
to Victor, pushing through the agents and paramedics to get to him. There he
was, handcuffed to a gurney with a paramedic applying pressure and bandages to
his shoulder.