Beautifully Unnatural: A Young Adult Paranormal Boxed Set (59 page)

“Leave me alone.” I somehow managed to say as his hand invaded my bare skin and pulled my jeans down low enough to reveal the infinity shaped birthmark.

He ignored me and gaped at Bishop. “No lie, man. She has the mark. You see?”

Bishop peered from across the room but didn’t look too interested.

“Lynn finally fessed up.” Chuck’s voice sounded proud. “About time. Let’s get her to Devin.”

Lynn’s face contorted. “You don’t have to do this. Just let her go and I’ll help Devin get whatever he needs. You owe me that, Charlie.”

“Owe you for what?” He grabbed my arm and hoisted me off the couch. “Five years of nagging?”

“We have history, Charlie. That should be worth something.” Lynn’s voice was panicked as he dragged me to the front door and I was too sickened from his pawing to resist. “Please do this as a favor. For me. For Amanda.”

He laughed. “Tell you what. As a favor to you, I’ll let the mind reader’s boyfriend live.” He nodded his head toward Trip who lay perfectly still and hadn’t moved an inch in the last ten minutes. “Now that’s a gift. You know how I hate cops.”

We reached the front door and I stared at Trip’s face numbly, hoping they hadn’t caused any permanent damage. My eyes took in his beautiful face, memorizing it, knowing it was very unlikely I’d see him again.

My eyes were still staring at his motionless face when Chuck whisked me out the front door. He pulled me toward a dark blue van with tinted windows.

Bishop shut the front door and brought up the rear.

Chapter Thirteen

“You comfy back there?” Charlie, Chuck, or whoever the steroid guy was, sat in the van’s front passenger seat and apparently thought he had a sense of humor.

“Never better,” I said. My wrists and ankles were bound together with the same silver tape they’d used on Trip, Lynn, and Amanda. We went over a bump on the highway and my butt slammed against the seat, shooting pain up my back.

The bench seat I was sitting on had zero lumbar support and if I made it out of here alive I’d definitely need physical therapy. I tried to ignore the ache and once again checked my surroundings to make sure there was no way to get out. The van didn’t have side windows and the back ones were blacked out. No chance of anyone seeing or rescuing me.

After like two hours of driving up highway 50 and I’ll admit, more than an hour of crying—understandable I figured, since I’d been taken at gunpoint and all—I’d accepted my situation.

I was screwed. Big time.

But, no way I’d let these jokers know how terrified I was. “If only you’d install a footrest and cable TV, this would feel like a vacation.”

“Kid’s got a sense of humor.” Charlie turned to Bishop and laughed. “Must run in the family.”

What did his comment mean? Family. Did he mean Lynn? Or my mom? Thinking about my mom made me wonder how much my dad knew about all of this. I thought back to how super protective and paranoid he’d been my whole life and that, despite his decent income, we’d always lived in apartments. Had that been strategic in order to stay hidden? Had this Devin guy been after me for years?

No use in focusing on maybes. I thought of Trip and tried to concentrate on the case like he would in this kind of situation. Okay, backtrack. Think.

Lynn had called Bishop by his first name. Aaron. So they must know each other. Bishop had called the body builder guy Chuck, but Lynn called him Charlie. Clearly Lynn knew them both well. Also, Charlie seemed like a way too affectionate version of Charles for a
kidnappee
to be using on the
kidnapper
. Plus, Lynn said they had history. Did that mean they’d dated?

I stretched my neck to peek up front and study Charlie’s face—I figured using the endearing name might help to avoid thinking he might pop a bullet into me at any minute. Charlie, it turns out, was not that bad looking. For an older guy at least, if you went for the weight-lifting type.

But, runs in the family? He must’ve meant Lynn’s family. Or, I didn’t even want to think about this, was I part of his family? Too many possibilities to guess. This was ridiculous. I needed answers. And if my dad and my newly discovered aunt wouldn’t give them to me, I didn’t think it would be out of line to ask my kidnappers.

I cleared my throat which was sore from crying. “Why have you taken me totally against my will? That’s a federal offense you know.” I had no idea if that was true, but it sounded threatening so I went with it.

Bishop ignored me, kept his eyes on the road, and to be honest looked like he might sack out as he drove. Great. After nearly being strangled and shot, I was going to die from an auto collision because my kidnapper hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep.

Charlie twisted in his seat, looked back at me, and laughed. “It’s only a crime if you get caught, kid.”

I stared at him blankly. Why was another person calling me kid? I would’ve told him I was sixteen but I figured the less information I gave him the better. “Devin must be giving you a lot of money for delivering me.”

“You have no idea,” Charlie said, his smile broadening.

“Stop talking to the kid.” Bishop’s voice was stern, irritated even. Someone was cranky when they didn’t get their sleep. I couldn’t blame him. With that baldhead and scrunched up face, he needed all the beauty rest he could get.

To be completely honest, Bishop scared the bejeebers out of me. But if I was going to die, I at least had the right to know why. “Charlie, why’d you say humor must run in the family? What’d you mean by that?”

I figured using his first name might put us on friendlier terms. Make me seem more like a friend and less like target practice.

He looked baffled by my question. “Are you telling me you don’t know who Devin is?”

Great. Please don’t tell me this Devin guy’s an ex of Lynn’s too. Did the woman ever hear of playing hard-to-get? “I’d never even heard of Devin until tonight, er, this morning. What time is it anyway?”

I looked up at the dash where bright blue numbers displayed 1:42.

Huh. The fear of death must get the adrenaline pumping because I felt wide-awake for this time of night. I thought about Trip again, guilt squashing through me as I willed him to be okay. Willed Lynn to get her hands free and call an ambulance for him. Thinking of Trip made the dark walls of the van seem to close in around me. My heart pounded and I felt desperate to get away.

Focus. Concentrate on the case. “So, Charlie. Who’s this Devin guy? My long lost cousin?”

Charlie seemed to have lost interest in our conversation. He put a hand over his bicep, made a fist and started flexing. “Not hardly, kid. Try your long lost daddy.”

I shook my head and gaped. What? When’s the last time I’d used a Q-tip? “I’m sorry. But, it sounded like you said this Devin guy is my dad and, sorry to break the news to you, but I already have a dad. You clearly have the wrong mind reader and might want to drop me at the next exit.”

“You heard me right.” He rubbed his bicep and flexed a few more times. “Devin’s your old man. Stuart ran off with your mom after Devin knocked her up.” Charlie shrugged as Bishop pulled off the freeway. “Better get used to the idea fast. In about ten minutes you’re going to meet him.”

Stuart Bates wasn’t my real dad? Devin, a freaking mob-boss-kidnapper-loser was my biological father? If my nerves weren’t so raw that my stomach had started heaving, this is the point where I would’ve passed out. That would’ve been my preference. Pass out and forget everything I’d just heard. Instead, my belly rolled over once, twice, and then I threw up all over the crappy uncomfortable back seat.

“I told you not to talk to her,” Bishop snapped. “Now look what you’ve done. Idiot.” Bishop blasted the fan and waved a hand angrily in the air. “This is why I didn’t want you to come.”

I held my stomach, lifted my head and watched the two of them in a daze.

Charlie no longer flexed his muscles. In fact, he looked pissed. “How was I supposed to know she’d toss her cookies? Ah, man. You got any air freshener or something?”

Stunned, sick, and disoriented, I wiped my mouth on my shoulder. And as everything I knew, everything I’d ever been crumbled around me, Bishop handed Chuck a travel-sized bottle of pine tree spray.

****

Bishop pulled into a gravel driveway somewhere in the Sierras and it was too dark to see much beyond the trees, but they had to be taking me to see that Devin guy. My . . . father? My insides churned suddenly, bringing me to the edge of puking again.

Wait a minute. Was I seriously taking Chuck’s word that Devin is my long lost dad? Like a guy who kidnaps teens for a living would be a trustworthy source. He was so obviously a liar and I was a moron for taking him seriously. My stomach calmed somewhat, leaving me bitter about what he’d just put me through. “We going to meet my
dad
now?” I said, sarcastically.

“Shut up.” Apparently Chuck no longer thought I was funny. Guess humor doesn’t run that deep in the
family
. Or barf’s stronger than blood in his book.

I decided not to push. He did have a gun after all.

Bishop stopped the van at the end of the drive, grabbed a knife and cut the tape off my hands and ankles. He gripped my elbow and tried to pull me from the van. “Get out.”

“No way.” I struggled as the reality of the situation hit me full force. Fake father or not, who knew what this guy Devin was planning to do with me? My feet hit the gravel driveway and skidded across the rocks as Bishop dragged me toward some kind of wooded cabin, reminding me of where we’d found Amanda—left for dead. “Let me go!”

“Don’t give me any more grief, kid.” Bishop’s voice held significant warning. “You’d better start cooperating. I can do worse things than kill you.”

My body went limp and I stopped fighting. I didn’t want to die and I certainly didn’t want to know what else he could do to me. My heart pounded as he dragged me up the wooden steps toward the front door of the house.

“That’s better.” Bishop lifted me up the last step by one arm and my body felt similar to a rag doll at this point.

What would Trip do if he were here? Concentrate on the surroundings. Look for any clue that might help. That’s what he’d do and if I’d listened to him in the first place I wouldn’t be here. Quickly, I soaked in everything around me. As far as houses go, my expert opinion was that this one was old. The log wood exterior looked rotted and in desperate need of oil, sanding, or . . . something. Not like I was a carpenter and really knew. I wondered if this was where they’d been holding Amanda before they dropped her off the side of that dirt road.

My breath caught as we burst through the front door. I so did not want to meet Devin. Anybody who goes to this much trouble to snatch me has to be a whack-job.

Thankfully, the only thing that greeted us when we walked in was a mangy couch, a coffee table, and a stand with an old TV.

“Call Devin. Let him know we’re here.” Bishop gestured to Chuck, then pulled me down the hall and opened the door at the end. He shoved me into what appeared to be a bedroom.

I gasped. Tied to a chair by the window was the girl I’d met at the hospital—she was still wearing the same black outfit but her blonde hair with black tips looked in desperate need of a shampoo. “Drew?”

Upon hearing my voice, she looked up slowly, like she thought she might be hallucinating. The heavy make-up she’d been wearing at the hospital Friday night had faded and only crusty black smudges remained around her eyes.

Even though we were prisoners, I was relieved to see her. At least she was alive. What freaked me out though was the look she gave me. Gone was the spark that had ignited her eyes. Gone was the tough girl who could take on the world. She appeared scared, defeated, and totally out of it. Rage surged through me. “What’d you do to her?”

“Shut up.” Bishop shoved me so hard into a metal chair that pain shot up my spine.

I grunted. “You could’ve just asked me to sit.”

“You’re a pain, kid. If it were my choice, I’d shoot you right now and be done with it.” Bishop’s voice was dry, flat, and there was no way he was bluffing. He taped one of my ankles to the chair, none too gently, and then he did the other. “You’re lucky Devin’s paying me so much or I’d have beaten that smart mouth right off you a long time ago.”

The 4.0 part of me decided not to make a clever retort. Even if a stack of cash was on the line, there was no telling how much control a murderous creep like Bishop had.

“Now sit tight.” He wound the roll of tape around my wrists, stomach and arms, pressing me to the back of the chair—way tighter than necessary—and then left the remainder of the roll hanging there like he couldn’t be bothered to cut the piece off. He slammed the door on his way out.

All was quiet in the room now as his footsteps retreated down the hall toward the living room. I wondered how long until Devin arrived. We had to make a plan of escape, fast.

I looked at Drew. “Lynn said she hadn’t seen you since the hospital. I was worried they might’ve . . .”

She stared at me, her eyes glazing over. “How did they find you?”

“Don’t ask.” I pulled at my wrists to see if I could loosen the tape. Drew had been taken because of me. I had to get us out of here.

Drew gaped at me with those vacant eyes. “Tell me how they got you.”

“I found them. How stupid is that?” I used my leg muscles to try to wrench my ankles from the chair. The tape stretched slightly and bit into my skin. “I went to Lynn’s house and knocked on her door, not realizing Chuck and Bishop were already there. They took me at gunpoint and brought me here.”

That may be the nutshell version but we didn’t have time for the long one. No matter how scared I was, I couldn’t let myself sink into depression and become useless. We needed to think, focus, find a way out of here. Darn ankles were strapped too tight. “Agh!”

Drew was just sitting there, limply.

“Snap out of it, Drew.” I didn’t know how long she’d been here or what they’d done to her, but I needed her help if we were going to break free. “Scooch your chair over here and see if you can reach the tape on my wrist.”