moan for uncle 5 (4 page)

"Nah," Grant shook his head and returned the man's smirk. "I think you’re going to have to get it out of me."

Nikki's eyes shot over to the other two men, who were in the process of looping a chain over one of the ceiling beams and then attaching a large hook to it. What in the hell? She glanced back over to Grant.

Just tell them what they want to know. Tell them where the guns or diamonds - or whatever the fuck it is that you have that they want - are! Just tell them!
She wanted to scream it out. She just wanted to leave - with him. She'd do anything to make that happen, tell them anything. Why wouldn't he?

"Ready, boss." The man who had abducted her informed the man speaking to Grant.

"Good. Time this American pays for what he stole and what did to my
brotha
."

His brother.
Oh God!
Her eyes caught Grant’s and he mouthed 'I'm sorry' to her.

"What did he do to your brother?" she blurted. Whatever they had planned for Grant, she knew she had to postpone it; maybe she could buy him some time. For what she had no clue...

The man's head whipped around and his dark eyes focused on hers. He gave her a friendly smile that didn't match the grave expression his face carried and he strolled over to her, unsheathing a knife with a thick blade that she would guess measured about eight inches long.

He pressed the tip of the knife against his thumb and watched the metal glisten under the soft light as he slowly spun the blade. "That man," he pointed the tip of the blade towards Grant, "slit my
brotha's
throat." He walked around the chair positioning
himself
behind Nikki. Fear rose up within her and her eyes caught Grant’s just as she felt the cool metal tip of the blade press at the center of her throat.

She gasped and clung tightly to the arm of the chair. Looking deep into Grant's eyes, for the first time in her life she saw genuine fear in them. Though she knew it wasn't fear for
himself
, but fear for her as the tip of the knife poked into the soft flesh of her throat.

"Look. Whatever you want,
Sahr
, she has nothing to do with this."

The man that she now knew to be
Sahr
chuckled. "My men will cut the rope. Fight and her blood
is
on your hands."

Grant closed his eyes, took a deep breath in, released it and then nodded.
"Fine."

Nikki couldn't tell for sure since he was still positioned behind her, the tip of the knife pressing painfully into her throat, but he must have signalled to his men. His men went to Grant, freed him and proceeded to tie his hands over his head and string him up onto the hook hanging from the beam. Grant's toes just barely skimmed the floor as he hung from the hook.

What they had planned for him suddenly became clear to her and the tears formed in her eyes once more. "Grant no!" She screamed out. Forgetting about the knife at her throat she began to struggle in earnest against the binds and didn't even notice the nick the knife made as it poked into her soft flesh. She also didn't feel the warm trickle of blood as it slowly slid down her neck and onto the bodice of her dress, turning it from a brilliant white to a dark red.

Her abductor unravelled the whip and gave it a practice snap. It flicked and made a loud cracking noise that echoed throughout the small room.

"No, don't, please!" But her pleas fell on deaf ears as the man positioned himself behind Grant.

"Nikki," Grant called out to her, drawing her eyes to meet his. "It's going to be okay honey."

She suddenly started to feel light-headed and she settled back into the chair, the will to fight swiftly leaving her, and the need to sleep becoming more and more intense. Her eyes began to close, but the sound of the whip cracking and the clang of chains as the whip’s force moved Grant brought her back to alertness.

Nikki screamed, and struggled once more against her restraints.

Grant grimaced, but didn't make a sound. Instead, he attempted to give her a soft reassuring smile. She wanted to tell him she loved him, but the darkness was all around her now, shutting down her consciousness. Seconds later, she gave in and fell into the bliss of unconsciousness.

Chapter 4

Grant found himself falling in and out of consciousness. He couldn't wager a guess on how long it continued, but his back felt like it was on fire and various parts of his body were also burning. His whole torso seemed to be consumed with a painful throbbing and burning. Although he was once more conscious, he kept his head down and eyes shut, listening to the conversation between the men. The voices were slightly blurred due to the raging headache he was enduring, but he could still faintly make them out.

Sahr
: "Stop this. We're getting nowhere with him."

Silence, and then one of the others spoke, but he couldn't quite hear what they were saying.

Sahr
: "Take a break. When he wakes up we start on the woman."

Grant fought the urge to attempt to free himself as rage filled him. He'd be damned if he’d let them touch her! But he waited and listened as two sets of footsteps exited the room. Weren't there three men? Did one leave while he was unconscious? He was about to open his eyes when he heard the shuffling of feet.

One is still here
.

He just needed a little leverage to free his tied hands from the hook suspended from the ceiling beams. He knew if he was patient enough and if the others didn't come back too soon, he might just have a chance.

It wasn't long after the others left that he heard the man get up and move around the room.

"
Pfft
.
Americans
."
He gave Grant's leg a kick. "Tough guy. Not so tough now." He huffed a second time and it sounded as though he were turning his back to Grant.

Grant cautiously opened his eyes and sure enough, the man was a couple of feet away from him, his back turned and his eyes were focused on the unconscious Nikki.

Not wasting a moment, and gritting his teeth through the pain his movement was causing, Grant raised his legs, caught the other man's head in a headlock and tightened, while twisting his hips. A crack sounded and the man began to tumble to the floor. Using the man's body as leverage, Grant unhooked his hands and collapsed onto the now lifeless form of his torturer.

"Ah damn," he groaned as he stumbled to his feet. "How's that for tough asshole." Taking a moment to gulp a couple of deep breaths in and release them, he then grabbed the knife that was attached to the man's belt and pulled it from its sheath. He quickly cut the binds holding his wrists together. Once his hands were free he removed a pistol from the man's shoulder holster and tucked it to the back of his jeans and then half-stumbling, half-walking, he made his way over to Nikki, falling to his knees in front of her and cutting the rope binding her legs and wrists.

"
Nik
.
Nikki, honey.
You have to wake up, baby." Once the restraints were cut away he took her chin in his hand and brushed her hair from her face. Aside from the nick on her neck, which they had bandaged, she didn't appear to be hurt physically in any way.

Taking her slender shoulders in his hands he gave her a couple of light shakes. "Nikki! Nikki, please wake up. It's me. I need you to wake up, honey." He was tempted to try and hoist her over his shoulder, but considering he wasn't very steady on his feet he doubted they'd get far that way.

A surge of relief washed over him as she stirred and a soft groan escaped her lips. Pulling her tight into his arms he stroked her hair and placed a string of kisses along her jaw.

"Grant? I..." Her eyes fluttered open, widened in terror. She shook her head in denial. "It was a dream, right? It..." She looked down at him, his body bloodied and bruised. "Oh-my-god, Grant!" She flung herself into his arms so violently that she nearly sent him toppling backwards.

"We
gotta
go,
Nik
. Can you walk?"

She tested her limbs nodded and then her eyes spotted the numerous bloodied gashes down the length of his back. "Oh fuck!
Your back!"

Grabbing her hand, he stood and gave her hand a tug. "Come on."

Her eyes spotted the man Grant had just killed sprawled out on the floor, his neck grotesquely out of sync with the rest of his body and gasped. "Is he..?"

"Yes.
Don't look, just come with me."

"But..."

Taking her shoulders in his hands he caught her gaze with his own. "You need to listen to me. We need to leave. Now! I'm fine, the scars from the cuts will just add to my already extensive collection. Okay?"

She nodded, the tears once more forming in her eyes.

Giving her a quick kiss on the forehead, he grabbed her hand once more and led her to the door, pulling the gun from the back of his pants as he walked. Before he opened the door, he double checked that the gun was loaded and the safety was off. Check and check. Taking a deep breath in, he slowly opened the door.

Turning back to Nikki he put his index finger to his lips, signalling for her to remain silent as they ascended the staircase. With the gun ready, he crept up the stairwell, with Nikki in tow. Just before he reached the door presumably leading to the kitchen, he stumbled, falling back into Nikki and nearly sending them tumbling down the stairs.

Finding his footing he climbed the remaining stairs and turned back to Nikki, motioning for her to stay where she was. When she nodded, he slowly turned the knob and opened the door revealing a bright, colourful kitchen of modern design. When he was certain the kitchen was vacant, he motioned for Nikki to follow him into the room. The house was deathly silent. The only sound to be heard was the faint rustling of Nikki's dress as she made her way up the stairs and across the kitchen to join him at his side.

Moving the floral print curtain covering the window over the sink, Grant peered outside. There was no sign of the BMW Diana had picked him up in. The only vehicle in the driveway was an older model Lincoln
Towncar
.

They quickly made a sweep of the house and came up empty. However, when they reached the master bedroom situated upstairs, they came across the owners of the house. They were an elderly couple, Grant would guess in their late sixties, both shot as they slept in their bed, a single bullet to the forehead.

"What's
wrong.
What's in there?" Nikki attempted to nudge him to the side so she could peek around him.

"No, Nikki. No." Grant stood in the doorframe of the bedroom blocking Nikki's view of the couple. Turning to face her, he pulled her tight to him, keeping her eyes shielded by his muscular chest. It was bad enough she had seen the man he'd killed downstairs, she didn't need to see this too. The sight of the elderly couple was the type of thing that haunted a person for years so he quickly closed the door and ushered her back downstairs, avoiding her questions as they walked.

Back in the kitchen, he noticed his wallet and shirt on top of the refrigerator. With some assistance from Nikki he pulled the shirt over his head, grimacing as the cotton rubbed against the long, still bleeding gashes down his back.

"We're going to have to get to a hospital."

"No. We need to get out of here and I need time to think about what our next move should be." He noticed a set a keys hanging on a hook by the door which he assumed were to the Lincoln and snatched them from the hook. "Let's go. Hurry, we need to be long gone before they get back." His first priority was to get Nikki as far away from the house as possible. Take her someplace safe. The rest he'd work out later.

He hurried her to the car, unlocked the passenger side door for her and hustled her in, slamming it behind her. Seconds later, he was behind the wheel and putting as much distance between them and the house as he possibly could.

****

"We need to get you cleaned up and see how much damage is under all that blood." Nikki gave Grant's hand a tug and pulled him up from the motel room bed.

The blood had seeped through the back of his grey t-shirt and was soaking the material. She had tried repeatedly to get him to go to a hospital, but he kept refusing, stating it wasn't safe. How could it not be safe? It was a hospital for heaven's sake! Despite her better judgment and her growing concern for the amount of blood he had lost, not to mention the risk of infection setting in, she relented.

"I'm so sorry about this,
Nik
."

Once they were in the bathroom she grabbed the hem of his shirt and lifted it up and over his head, tossing it into the little black garbage can beside the flush. "Whatever is going on isn't your fault." She quickly undid his belt and jeans, sliding them and his boxers down. Even if it was, she didn't give a damn. He’d managed the near impossible and escaped, taking them both to safely. She had faith he could fix this as well.

He cupped her face in his hands and tilted her gaze up to his, as he stepped out of his pants, kicking them to the side. "I've never been so terrified in my life. If anything had happened to you..." The look of anguish on his face at the thought pained her.

"It didn't. You saved us, like I knew you would."

He brushed his lips against hers and reached around her, unclasping the bodice of the dress and unzipping it. She sighed against his mouth, relishing in the fact that she was able to feel his arms around her again, something she feared for a few moments while they were being held captive would never happen again.

When the zipper was all the way down, Grant stepped back, examined the dress and then shook his head. "Unfortunately, I didn't save the dress."

Nikki looked down at the dress and frowned. Blood was smeared across the front, some from when she was nicked by the knife and some from being pressed up against Grant's back as they searched the house. The once beautiful and flowing lace skirt was now ripped in a number of spots and dirt coated a portion of it.