In the House On Lakeside Drive (26 page)

“We're leavin' this place,” Cooper said, and Remy's breath caught. “Do what you want with the other two, but that bastard nephew of mine is comin' with me. Just make sure you don't kill 'em, is all.”

“W-why?” Sam stammered out, his words slurring. Remy had seen the condition he'd been left in once he'd been forced through the sliding door and into their new prison—Sam was sporting a freshly blackened eye as well as a large egg on his scalp. He was also favoring his left shoulder as they sat.

“Don't mistake it for kindness, blind man,” Cooper replied. “But see, my nephew needs a carrot to work with if he's gonna behave.”

“And we…we're th-the carrot,” Sam said, heaving a large breath.

“I'm not a carrot,” Josh protested.

“Shut it,” one of the other large men said, giving Josh a gentle slap across the face. The sound of Josh's cry struck Remy, and he seethed with quiet anger.

The sound of a door opening took everyone's attention. Remy and Josh turned their heads in unison while Sam's ears visibly perked up. “What the hell is goin' on here?” the Southerner asked, shoving a figure before him. The body fell to the ground, and Remy realized who it was.

“Evan!” Josh cried out. “What…?”

“Josh, be quiet,” Remy admonished. He too was staring in wonder at this sudden turn of events.

“Good idea, brat,” the Southerner said, kicking Evan in the ribs as he stood over him. Remy heard the sharp cry that Evan tried to muffle, and behind him he felt Sam tense up. “Be quiet and hear him tell you why you're here.”

“What?” Remy asked.

“Go on, Liam. Tell them.” The Southerner kicked Evan again, and this time he did cry out.

“Who is Liam?” Sam asked. “I've never heard of him.”

“He's…he's me, Sam,” Evan said, his voice toneless. “Before I came here, my name wasn't Evan. It was Liam. Liam Collier.”

“Well, why are you Evan now?” Josh wondered.

“Yes, Liam,” the Southerner asked. “Why
are
you Evan now?”

“I made some mistakes. I wanted to start over. I…I thought I could run away from my problems.”

“And how did
that
work out?” the Southerner chortled.

“Not…not very well, o-obviously,” Sam said, his words slurring harder. Remy wondered how hard he'd been hit.

“No, I would say not.” The Southern man knelt down, his face parallel to both Josh's and Remy's own. “See, my old friend here, he betrayed me.”

“No he wouldn't!” Josh yelled, earning a sharp kick for his pains. “Ow!”

“Oh, he did. Cost me my business, among other things.”

“Evan?” Remy asked tentatively. “Is that true?”

“Yes, Remy. It is. But what
was
your business, Dayton?” Evan's eyes sparkled. “I notice you're leaving things out in this story.”

“None of your concern, kid.”

“No, you want this told right. He was a dealer, Remy. Sold pills to anyone who had the cash.”

Remy tensed. Behind him, he felt Sam shy away from the words. “You…you sold drugs?” Josh asked, slowly processing what was going on.

“Not unlike your friend here, kid. Except I could name my own price.”

“You were a dealer too, Dyer?” Cooper asked, a gleam in his eyes. “Always thought you were too sanctimonious for your own good.”

“I was a pharmacy intern. That means I was studying to be a pharmacist, Josh. I sold pills to people at a pharmacy. I filled prescriptions written by doctors. Dayton sold to
anyone
, whether they should have them or not. There's a big difference.”

“So…so you were like the people at Hanover's?”

“Kind of. I was still learning to be a pharmacist, like them. I didn't like it.”

“And that's why you came here?”

Evan nodded, the effect lost as his head shook parallel to the floor he lay upon. “I came here, met Rachel, and started fixing things. Then I met her tenants, and then you guys moved in.”

“Touching, Liam,” the man called Dayton spat. Then he looked at Cooper. “You can have them now,” he said. “I got what I wanted out of him.” Then he looked around. “Where's my men?”

“In the basement. I'd keep an eye on them.” The man with the vile Cheshire Cat grin laughed. “Tried to steal what wasn't theirs. They learned fast.”

Remy swallowed thickly. He had a feeling he knew what was in the basement.

“Why did you change your name?” The room fell silent as Sam's question came forth.

“Yes, Liam,” Dayton said. “You never did answer that. Why did you? I'm dying to know.”

No one spoke as Evan bit his lip. “Evan?” Remy prodded gently.

A sigh came from Evan's lungs. “Someone was trying to hurt me. I was almost killed. I moved North from where I was living, and somewhere in the middle I heard the name Evan. I liked it. I saw a shop called Dyer's, and I liked that too. When I got to Rachel's place my first night in town, I used that as my name. It stuck. I had my name changed shortly after that.”

“Someone was trying to kill you? Why?”

“Because I helped send them to prison. They're pretty pissed at me.”

Remy realized what Evan was trying to say. “I'll say,” he said. “He's kind of an asshole, huh?”

Evan chuckled a little, and Remy figured it was from nerves. “I guess you could say that.”

Fury washed over Dayton's weathered face. He struck Remy square across the jaw. “Watch your mouth, or you'll be in the basement next,” he warned.

Remy fell silent.

“Come on, brat,” Cooper said, grabbing Remy by his arm and snapping the tie around his ankles. “This has been fun, but now you're coming with me. No one left to save you now,” he added, pointedly staring at Evan as he dragged Remy behind him. “Bring the other two. I want my nephew properly motivated.”

“For what, Cooper?” Evan challenged from his position on the floor. “Why do you need Sam and Josh? They're nothing to you.”

“Like I said, Dyer—or whatever the hell your name is, my nephew needs motivation. He stays where he belongs and does what he's told, his friends don't get hurt. He tries anything, and, well…”

“Leave them alone. All of them. There's nothing they have that you could possibly want. If this is about money, Cooper, try looking in that case over there.” Evan pointed toward a gray metallic suitcase with his foot. “There's ten thousand in there.”

Cooper laughed. “A drop in the bucket. The brat's worth more. Much, much more.” The man's liquored eyes gleamed as he smiled a wide smile. “You have no idea.”

Remy stared. He saw his friends being manhandled by the thugs his uncle had somehow convinced to go along with him, and he saw Evan struggling to get up from the floor only to be shoved back down next to Dayton's worn, cracked sneakers. He felt a pull on his arm. “Come on, I said. Mind, you'd better listen.”

The young man pulled away. “No,” he said. He feared his uncle more than anything, but he knew he couldn't let him win. “No, I won't. Let them go.”

“Fine. Have it your way.” Cooper turned to his compatriots. “Jack, kill one of 'em. Make it slow.”

“No!” Remy fought as the large, scruffy, wild-looking man pulled out a pistol and aimed it right at Sam, who was standing halfway between the man and Remy. “No, don't!”

It all happened within a second. The gun went off, the man yelled and grabbed his leg, Sam fell to the ground, and Josh fell right on top of him, sprawling out onto the dirty carpet.

“Sam!”
Evan screamed, fighting his captor and rising from the floor.
“Josh!”

Chapter 39

Sam hurt all over. His head was throbbing from the blow he had taken when Remy and Josh had managed to escape the first time, and it was taking a supreme effort on his part to keep voices and other things straight in his head. He felt a heavy weight lying on top of him, and the sounds of shouting and Evan's screams were ringing in his sensitive ears. Sam winced as another cry echoed badly off the walls, piercing his eardrums. He tried to get up, only to have the squashy weight slide further onto his back and shove him down against rough carpeting again.

“No!” Sam heard Remy shout, his voice barely discernible over the loud racket of feet and heavy objects toppling over next to him. A giant
thud
sounded not inches from his head, and Sam could feel a wall of air rush toward him. He guessed that a large chair of some sort had fallen over. “No, please! Damn it,
let go of me!
”

“So help me, boy, you will learn your place!” A sharp slap echoed in Sam's ears, and he winced as Remy cried out. “Pick up that blind one, fellows, and let's get!”

“Remy!” Sam cried out. “What's…?”

“Lavelle, let him
go
!” Evan shouted. Sam could hear something large shuffling toward him, fighting against the rough carpet. The weight on Sam's back was beginning to get heavier. “Oh, God,” Evan breathed, his voice now somewhere above Sam's prone, pinned form. “No, no, no!”

“Not laughing now, are you, Liam?” the Southern man snapped, and soon the weight on Sam's back lifted off him as weathered hands pulled the young man from the ground. Then the man Evan had called Dayton yelled, “I want the other kid too. Screw you all. I'm getting what's mine.”

“Go to hell, junkie,” the demonic voice—Remy's uncle had called the man Jack---spat. “Cooper here, he owes us, and if this bastard nephew of his gets us the money, then that's what we're taking.” There was another loud report of gunfire, and Sam's ears screamed in pain. He tried to duck, but he couldn't wriggle out of Dayton's grip.

Something pulled at Sam's legs, attempting to knock him off balance. “Let him go, Dayton,” Evan called out. “Haven't you done enough?!”

“Haven't killed
you
, so count your blessings, Liam.” Hot breath rushed past Sam's right ear as the man hissed, “Now, you're gonna walk backwards, nice and slow. Don't make me drag you.”

Sam's bruised shoulders ached as he tried to pull away from the man threatening him. He was trying not to trip against whatever was tangled around his legs. “No!” he shouted, his cry coming out at half volume. About ten feet in front of him, he heard a door open. “Remy, run!” he rasped out.

“Sam!” his best friend cried out, the racket of vicious struggle barreling toward his ears. A sharp cry soon followed. “Bastard!” one of Jack's compatriots yelled, followed by a string of curses. “He's gettin' away, Jack!”

“Not for long,” the terrifying voice declared. The metallic
click
came back to life, as did shouts from Remy's uncle.

“No, you idiot! If you kill him, we get
nothing
!”

“The sanctimonious asshole's right, Cooper. Kid's check isn't worth this. I ain't going down for murder!”

“I ain't losing my inheritance!” Cooper yelled.

Sam heard the faint sound of feet crunching through snow, and a sudden cry of surprise.

The weathered hands holding Sam pulled him backward. “Move,
now,
” the Southerner said. “And nothing funny.”

Sam fought to keep his balance as he was dragged through a doorway and into another, smaller room. The sound of a glass sliding door opening reached his ears, and a sudden shock of cold made him shiver. More shouts carried over from the living room. Something thin and cold pressed against Sam's throat. “Get it together, kid,” his captor barked, pulling him from behind. “Few more feet, and we're in the clear.”

“Police! Stop right there!” a loud voice boomed. It was unfamiliar to Sam, and completely different from the ones he had heard over the last few days. It was followed by the sounds of metallic clicks, at least three of them.

“You shoot me, and the kid'll get it first,” Dayton said, pulling his prisoner back a step. “I'm not playin' around here!”

Sam stayed deathly silent as each side considered their options. He was pulled another two steps backward, the sharp blade pricking his Adam's apple as he hesitated. “Keep moving,” the Southern voice growled. Behind that, Sam heard something rustling. “Fuck!” his captor shouted, pulling both of them to a stop.

“Let him go,” the new voice said in front of him. “There's nowhere to go.”

“I'll kill him, I will!” The prickle in Sam's throat grew into a steady pressure, and the blind man hardly dared to breathe. Footsteps drew closer, and finally Sam felt arms take him forward as the pressure lifted from his throat. “Son of a
bitch
!” Dayton screamed, and the vicious words and shouts lessened as he was hurried away. Sam heard the beginnings of the Miranda rights he knew from listening to the television. Only then did he allow himself to exhale a huge sigh of relief.