Fade to Red (32 page)

He paused, thinking he heard something and situated the ropes quickly around his wrists. He pulled the blanket up over the leather and lay back, breathing hard. He held the metal lever in one hand. The door opened slowly and Ian sat up, pushing the lever underneath the covers.

A battered girl stood naked in front of him. Her skin was bruised and raw, hair wet. Pink droplets fell to the ground, water mixed with blood. Her mouth was gagged, and a rope pulled taut around her neck made her step carefully into the room. Her hands were behind her. Coco pushed her forward with the hand not clutching the rope.

It took a moment before he realized who it was. Holy fuck.

“Roxie!” He jumped up and went as far as the chain allowed.

She went completely still when she heard his voice. She blinked and tears dropped down her cheeks. Her eyes narrowed. “
Ian?
”

She tried to turn and fold into herself to keep him from seeing all of her, but Coco pushed her toward him.

“Coco, why would you do this?” Ian asked. “Beckham will never forgive you.”

“He won’t see. I have a new idea,” she said. “Get back in the bed, Ian.”

She pulled the gag out of Roxie’s mouth and gave her a hard push forward. Roxie stumbled and ran into him, and still Coco pushed until Roxie was falling forward and he was falling back on the bed. He heard click, click, clicking and could see over Roxie’s head that Coco was snapping pictures.

“This isn’t gonna work. Sparrow and Beckham both know we’d never do this to them,” Ian said.

“Do they? I think I can make it look pretty convincing,” she said.

Coco looped the rope around the doorknob, and as soon as Roxie felt the rope give enough for her to move, she scooted back toward the headboard, putting her knees against her chest. Ian moved to the other side of her and pushed the covers up with his knees. Roxie got far enough under the covers and lay down.

Coco nodded and snapped pictures. “Good. Ian, lie back and kiss Roxie.”

He stared at her. “No.”

“I dug up a little dirt on you last night, Ian. And I know all about Roxie here. Both of your pasts will make this so easy. Everyone is just waiting for you to fail.” Her voice sounded hypnotic. No stutters and shakes now. “You need to both do as I say, and I’ll be a lot nicer when I kill you,” she said under her breath. “Let me see your face, Roxie.”

Roxie’s head was turned away from Coco and facing Ian, but she wouldn’t look at him. Coco stayed by the door, not budging from her safe spot. Ian looked down at Roxie. He leaned in and heard her gasp. She was scared of what he might do and it killed him. He kissed her cheek and then kissed his way to her ear. Coco clicked away.

“It’s gonna be okay, Rox.” He kissed her ear again but turned his head so Coco wouldn’t see his mouth. “I’m gonna hit her,” he whispered.

Roxie’s eyes shifted to his. He kissed his way over to her other ear.

“I can’t see your faces,” Coco said.

Roxie gave a barely-there nod. She turned to face him and he laid on his side. The only way Coco would get a shot that showed who they were was if she stood right over them. He found the lever and stared at Roxie. They didn’t move.

“No, that’s not gonna work,” Coco said. “Roxie, your turn. Give Ian some love. We need to see you.” She giggled.

When neither of them moved, they heard her move and Ian leaned closer to Roxie’s face. His hands were free of the rope and he was ready to pounce the second Coco was near enough. Instead, everything happened so fast. One second he was leaning in, and in the next, Roxie was yelling and grasping her throat. Coco yanked the rope and moved Roxie into position on top of him.

She rested her forehead against his and cried.

“Roxie … just breathe, sweetheart.” Ian closed his eyes. All of the fury he suppressed was ready to explode into a bloodbath. He took a deep breath. “We can make this look better if we have our hands, Coco. At least let Roxie’s be free so she can wipe her face. Won’t look very sexy if she’s obviously crying.”

Coco was quiet. Agonizing minutes ticked by. And then Ian’s stomach dropped. She was inching closer. He and Roxie didn’t breathe. Coco edged near the bed and instead of untying the rope, she lifted the blanket to wipe Roxie’s face. Roxie rolled off of him. He grabbed a fistful of Coco’s hair, and, in that split second, her eyes grew wide when she saw something coming toward her. She didn’t have time to move before he lunged forward and stabbed her in the side and stomach with the jagged edge of the lever. Blood painted the room in red streaks and polka dots.

Coco’s screams rattled Ian’s conscience. He wanted to kill her. He really did.

Instead, he pulled her hands behind her back and shoved her facedown onto the ground. He was eye level to the rope on the bed. Just out of reach. With his knees digging into her back, he stretched out his arm. Roxie used her knees to scoot the rope closer to him.

He wrapped it around Coco’s wrists and tried to make it more secure than his had been. If she got loose he was afraid he
would
kill her. She sobbed hysterically and he grabbed the gag that had been in Roxie’s mouth and tied it around Coco’s. He didn’t doubt the wounds hurt, but she’d inflicted a lot more pain on Roxie and Roxie wasn’t howling like a two-year-old.

He stood up and pressed his foot into her back, making sure she didn’t try to move. Her camera was on the floor across the room.

He looked at Roxie and motioned for her to come closer so he could undo her rope. She turned around and he was able to get it undone quickly.

“Get the camera and start taking pictures of her and this room,” he said. “I’m gonna finish working on this.” He pointed to the leather around his waist.

Roxie wrapped the blanket around her and tied it under her arms. “Forget everything you saw, Ian Sterling,” she said weakly as she walked toward the camera.

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout, Roxie Taylor,” he said.

He worked on the leather and Coco gradually quieted. The click of the camera echoed in the room. Roxie pointed the camera at Ian just as his restraint fell to the floor.

He closed his eyes for a moment and enjoyed the relief. Roxie touched his arm and he opened his eyes. She had the chain in her hands and handed it to him.

“Can we get this to work still?” she asked.

When he moved his foot off of Coco, she turned over, kicking and bucking her head like a woman possessed.

He never dreamed he’d pummel a woman, but he did. When she stopped fighting, he stopped hitting. He shook when he looked down and saw that she had passed out. He studied his hands in shock. All the strength drained out of his body instantly, like the explosion that comes after a fat water balloon pops.

He forced himself to move; he picked her up and put her on the bed, looping the chain around and around and around her and the posts until it was secure. When he finished, he stumbled to the wall, leaning his head forward and gasping for breath.

This is not who you are. Not who you are. You are not this man.

His father danced across his mind, laughing at him. Taunting him.
You thought you were so different from me? That you could rewire who you are? Like father, like son.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and he jumped.

“Ian?”

He rubbed a hand across his face, trying to wipe the tears, but only smearing the mixed blood on his face.

He turned around and Roxie stood there, eyes full of concern.

“Are you okay?” she whispered.

He swallowed and slowly nodded. He reached out and hugged her.

“We need to get out of here. You ready?” he asked.

“So ready.”

“Hang onto your blanket. Beckham’s gonna kill me for seeing your boobs.”

She elbowed him in the gut and they both winced.

“Too soon to joke about,” he said with a nod.

“You better be glad you saved my life, or I’d so kick you in the balls right now.”

He backed up and gave her a huge grin. “I’m so glad you’re feeling better. Got your sass back. Good.”

A choked laugh came out of her, surprising them both. She laughed until she cried big gasping sobs.

He looked at her with tears in his eyes. “Let’s get out of here, Rox, before we both get sucked so far into Crazy Land we can’t find our way out.”

“I hope it’s not too l-late.”

He looked over his shoulder at Coco, who was still knocked out and opened the door.

Roxie’s eyes didn’t adjust right away and she bumped into the walls, yelping each time. The loofah and whatever Coco had poured onto it had inflicted worse pain than everything else put together. Roxie could hardly think straight. They opened door after door, but each led to another bedroom or storage space.

Finally, a door led to stairs. They went up quickly and opened the door at the top, blinded by the brightness. The house had been beautiful once, but was now dirty and reeked. Heavy draperies were ripped and some of the formal furniture toppled over onto its side. A thick layer of dust coated the tables and the high ceilings had a tinge of grey.

“Let’s find the garage,” Ian said.

They moved through the rooms until they found the kitchen. Roxie gagged—the smell was repulsive. Dishes with leftover food had been left out on the countertops. Maggots squirmed in a mixing bowl. Coco had been on tour for months, so the mess was at least that old.

Ian moved past her, opening doors.

“Bathroom. Laundry. Pantry. Garage! Come on, Roxie!”

She followed him into the garage and looked at the row of cars. Five of them.

“Do you have any idea what she drove?” he asked, looking in each car.

“No,” Roxie answered.

“I think I could … oh wait…” He looked in the windows of the white BMW and moved to the trunk. “Jackpot,” he said, holding up the toolkit. He opened it up and found a valet key.

Roxie shuffled to the car and got in. He started the car and pressed the garage door opener. They pulled out quickly. The house was a sprawling mansion.

Ian whistled. “Do you see the address?”

A huge rock out front had the house number.

“4257 Windhill Drive,” Roxie repeated over and over.

When they drove away, the shakes took over. Ian turned the heater up.

“Make sure your seat warmer’s on,” he said. “I … have no idea where we are…”

They saw one other house not too far and then a mountain stood between the other houses. They drove through the canyon, toward the valley. It was ten minutes before they saw a gas station or restaurant.

Ian pulled into the gas station. “I just want to find out where we are and call the police,” he said. “Keep the car locked and start honking if anything goes wrong.”

Roxie nodded but wanted to chase after him so she didn’t have to be alone. She huddled under the blanket. A car pulled in the parking lot and Roxie ducked, but then peeked carefully over the seat to see if it was Coco.

She was chained up and knocked out cold. She couldn’t have gotten out of there so quickly
, she told herself. The police would get there before Coco could get out of those chains. But Roxie’s heart wouldn’t stop pounding. A man got out of the car and walked past her to go inside. She let out a rush of air. Ian was talking to the older man behind the counter; they turned to look at her and kept talking. Her body shook uncontrollably and she felt like she was gonna be sick. She opened her car door in time to throw up on the asphalt.

She heard Ian, but his voice came from a tunnel far away. Cutting in and out.

“
Need—her—hospital—how—”

She felt him in the car beside her and wanted to reassure him that she was okay, but she remembered telling Beckham she wasn’t a liar. Her vision had black smudges dusting around the edges. She gave her head a good shake and the dark swallowed her up.

Disjointed dreams.

Fragments of reality.

Nightmare and fantasy.

Jumbled.

Collision.

A song.

Leo.

Coco.

Beckham.

Coco.

Leo.

Beckham…

Wishes.

Truths.

Rope.

Bright lights.

Explosions and poison.

Shades of white.

A perfect dance.

Burning.

Book shreds.

Dirty words.

Lullabies.

Pretty dresses.

The dark.

Kisses and hope.

Scissors.

Ice Cream.

Muscled skin.

Running.

In a trunk.

On a bus.

Counting seconds.

Ripped photographs.

Toes in the sand.

Naked.

Cold.

Love.

Consuming.

Beckham.