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  ‘I’ve killed men,’ he said. ‘I’ve gutted them and watched them die slow. Why don’t you fear me?’

  Obviously, he was getting to the end of his wick. Flick dipped in to slide her hands into his front jeans pockets.

  ‘There’s more to you than that,’ she said.

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Because I do.’

  ‘Whatever,’ he said, turning his back on her. ‘Stay.’

  ‘Rushe,’ she said when he got to the door. ‘Kiss me goodbye.’

  ‘What?’

  Their bedroom exploits were passionate, but since their first time together he hadn’t kissed her mouth and with no explanation as to why.

  ‘By your reckoning I’m going to die soon,’ she said. ‘Consider it my last request.’

  ‘Not a chance. I’ll get back to fucking you soon enough, and I’ll fuck that sweet little mouth of yours too.’

  This time when he slammed out she jumped. He’d told her that he’d be back but as Flick listened to the men pile out and the truck trundle away through the slopping mud, something in her prickled. Her sixth sense knew something was about to change, but she didn’t know what, or if it would be positive. If only she’d had the power to see twenty-four hours ahead.

  Actually, slightly more than twenty-four hours had passed when Flick heard the squelch of tyres on mud and the rumble of an engine returning. Closing the mystery novel – she’d found a pile of them in the box that held up the television – Flick craned to hear the vehicle’s progress.

  Since the gang had left the rain hadn’t let up for long. Her one attempt to get out of here was thwarted pretty quickly. Heaving her way through the mud, the rain continued to pour, and after less than ten minutes outside she was exhausted, soaked, and freezing cold.

  Quickly deciding it was insanity, and quite possibly suicide, she’d made her way back to the shack. Flick searched the property for anything that might aid her escape. But there were no phone lines into the house. Starting a fire would only lead to more problems, and she doubted it was possible in these wet conditions. Eventually she’d resolved herself, she had to wait for Rushe, and trust that he would get her through this, as he had so far.

  Surprisingly, last night she’d experienced an unsettling fear. Being out here in the middle of nowhere, in the pitch black, all alone, made her uneasy. For some reason Flick felt more comfortable when the criminals where here. Sleeping in that bed without Rushe had been impossible, she had been cold, and uncomfortable. It wasn’t until Flick curled up in the chair that she’d managed to sleep at all but it hadn’t lasted for long.

  Today she’d spent most of her time reading. She’d sat on the porch, protected from the torrential rain by the overhang; it was nice just to be outside. Now she was kept prisoner by this horrendous weather. Skeeve couldn’t have planned it better himself.

  On realising the vehicle was closing in, Flick left the porch and retreated into the shack. As eager as she was to see Rushe again, and to make sure that he was ok, Flick knew that he wouldn’t be happy with her sitting outside. In addition, it might not be Rushe at all; it could just as easily be somebody else.

  When Flick got into the bedroom with her book, and the food she’d stockpiled to accompany the stored water, Flick pushed the chair to the door. If Rushe was back, she would let him in, but taking risks with the others was unnecessary. At least that was what Flick initially, in her naivety, thought.

  The front door opened and there was a lot of shouting. Low male voices yammering with excitement. Flick recognised Skeeve’s tone but the second one she wasn’t so familiar with; though the enthusiasm made her think it was the Kid.

  Then to her horror, she heard a third voice that wasn’t happy and was decidedly feminine. As though she’d fallen through thin ice Flick’s body temperature plummeted.

  ‘Please,’ the woman pleaded. ‘Please let me go!’

  Flick imagined she had sounded much the same on first meeting Skeeve herself. She knew just what it was to live through that terror, and Rushe wasn’t here to bail this woman out. Hurrying to the drawers, Flick dug around for the pocketknife she had come across – where the gun had been. Rushe hadn’t left her defenceless.

  Holding the folded knife in her palm, Flick went to work moving the chair from its role as barricade. Leaving that woman out there alone wasn’t an option, but that didn’t mean Flick relished the job of being the one to break up Skeeve’s party.

  Trying desperately to remain confident but detached, she opened the bedroom door.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Flick asked.

  True enough, the Kid was grinning like a Cheshire Cat while Skeeve was equally gleeful. At the sound of her voice, Skeeve turned giving Flick a view of the terrified woman on her knees in front of the slimy thug. His fist was balled on the top of her head in this woman’s red hair, that was much the same shade as Flick’s. From the bruises on the woman’s body and the streaks of make-up on her face, Flick was sure this poor soul had already been through an ordeal.

  ‘Hey little girl,’ Skeeve drawled. ‘Your boyfriend back yet?’

  ‘No,’ Flick said, looking at the woman again. ‘What are you doing with her?’

  ‘Your boyfriend made it clear your goods are his,’ Skeeve said examining her figure, but Flick didn’t care, she was used to the leering.

  ‘It’s going to be ok,’ Flick said to the woman, who continued to cry.

  ‘You might be hands-off, but the rest of us gotta have fun too. Maybe if I screw her enough she’ll fall goo-goo in love with me like you and your boyfriend.’

  ‘Do you think he’ll be happy coming back to find this?’ Flick asked. ‘It’s not exactly lying low.’

  ‘We’ve been out here for a god damn month!’ Skeeve declared, wrenching his hand out of the woman’s hair. But when the victim tried to scramble away the Kid caught hold of her.

  ‘So?’

  Skeeve marched to Flick. ‘Your boyfriend’s told you all about it I’ll bet. We’ve lived here with that superior bastard every day, thinks he’s better, thinks he’s smarter. I’ve worked for Victor for three years; you know how many times I’ve been called to the house? None! Your boyfriend strolls in three months ago and he’s at the house every other week!’

  Skeeve stopped and glared at her breasts, Flick didn’t need him to say what he was thinking. ‘Ah, ah, ah,’ she said feeling oddly empowered. ‘You keep thinking like that and he’ll gut you.’ Using his name was unnecessary.

  ‘You get into your room, leave me to my fun!’

  ‘I can’t do that,’ she said as Skeeve was about to turn away. ‘You have to let her go.’

  ‘I don’t take orders from you! Or your boyfriend!’

  ‘It’s not right.’

  ‘I don’t give a fuck what you think! Shiv’s gonna get back here and rip your arms off for what you did to him!’

  ‘I don’t care,’ Flick said. ‘I did the right thing.’

  ‘The right thing,’ Skeeve spat. ‘You saved the life of your boyfriend, the life of a guy whose job it is to torture and kill whoever Victor points to! How do you think they feel about what you did? Pah! The right thing...’ He moved in closer. ‘You know how many women he’s fucked? You think you’re something special, don’t you? Last night he took three strippers back to his hotel room, what do you think they did for him all night?’

  Hearing Rushe had been intimate with other women stung Flick deeper in the gut than she’d thought it would. She recalled what Rushe had said about her needing practise. He took the lead in their love-making, Flick had really done nothing for him. So she had to conclude that Rushe was right, he could get pussy anywhere. Hers offered him nothing different than the millions of others on the planet, in fact with her inexperience it offered him less.

  ‘Aww, you thought you were something special, didn’t you?’ Skeeve laughed. ‘How many times did he force himself on you before you fell for him? You’re a dumb little bitch; I love it when he does a num
ber on you sluts. I’m gonna try it with my own. Bring her!’

  Skeeve started toward another of the bedrooms and the Kid dragged the woman who started screaming.

  ‘No!’ Flick said, shaking off her own misgivings. ‘Let her go Skeeve!’

  ‘What are you gonna do?’ he asked. ‘You gonna shoot me?’

  If wishing made it so. ‘Maybe.’

  Reaching around, Skeeve pulled a gun from his waistband to point at her. ‘Let’s see who gets to the trigger first.’

  ‘You’re not going to shoot me,’ Flick said.

  ‘Nah, your boyfriend wouldn’t like that,’ Skeeve said. ‘Though I’m sure he’d like another hole in you to fuck.’

  ‘You’re scared of him,’ Flick said, poking at Skeeve’s pride. ‘You cower when he walks into the room.’

  In his fuming Skeeve came back to her position. ‘I’m not scared of nothing!’

  ‘Sure, I’ve seen how he orders you all around. He’s a man in charge... what do you think I see in him?’

  With a swift slap, he backhanded her face. ‘You bitches aren’t worth nothing!’

  ‘Neither are you it seems,’ Flick poked. ‘You’re here for the scut work, to do the jobs below the man in charge. This is beneath him, you’re beneath him... you’re beneath me.’

  Steam should be streaming from his ears. Skeeve was seething. His short, huffing breaths assaulted her nose, and being this close to him made her nauseous, but Flick held her ground.

  ‘You’re nothing.’

  The next hit was a punch that sent Flick to the ground, then he gave her ribs a swift kick. He spat at the floor only a centimetre from her face, but she pulled herself to her knees while wiping blood from her chin that had dribbled from the cut on the inside of her cheek.

  Flick had to get herself back to her feet, and she managed it before Skeeve got to the bedroom.

  ‘You’re weak,’ she called halting him in his tracks. ‘You’ll never be a quarter of the man Rushe is. I don’t care if he fucked a hundred women last night, I’d still suck him off and ask for more. He’s a real man!’

  Turns out maybe some of that dirty talk had rubbed off on her.

  ‘You’re a whore.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Flick said, widening her stance as Skeeve approached. ‘But I’m his whore.’

  ‘Is that right?’

  ‘Yeah,’ she said swallowing down the coppery taste from her tongue.

  ‘We’ll see about that, will we?’ he demanded and grabbed a hold of her.

  Though Flick struggled, Skeeve managed to turn her and surged forward, driving to the heaviest armchair. When he bent her over the back Flick kicked out but he kicked straight back.

  ‘Get over here!’ Skeeve shouted at the Kid.

  Flick didn’t see him coming but the Kid jumped onto the armchair and braced her shoulders holding her in place using his weight. The Kid laughed with gaiety again.

  ‘You’re gonna get it from a real man now,’ Skeeve drawled pulling up her dress to rip her underwear away.

  Flick tried to fight but the two of them held her down and she knew that her resistance would spur them on. Skeeve grabbed at her ass. Flicking open the knife, Flick would give him half a second then she’d make sure he’d lose the ability to violate any woman ever again.

  ‘Is this what you like? Rushe been up your asshole yet? You like that? Hey!’

  The hey wasn’t for her, Flick guessed when Skeeve’s hands vanished. The Kid ran and Skeeve went too. Flick stood to see them running out the front door after the woman who must have made a break for it. Not entirely sure what to do, Flick hoped that the woman would get free but running out after her wouldn’t help.

  Flick didn’t have the time to consider her options when a gunshot cracked outside. Panic seeped through her at the ensuing silence and she hoped the shooter wasn’t a great shot. A few seconds passed and two more shots startled her. If they’d missed the first time, Flick had a feeling those two were point blank.

  Leaving half a beat, Flick ran into the bedroom and barricaded the door with the chair again. Skeeve might be mad now; he might blame her for ruining his fun. Then again, they had a body to dispose of.

  Crawling into the corner by the pipe that she’d been tethered to on her first night in this bedroom, Flick hugged her knees up to her chest and the tears started. That woman was dead, no doubt about it. Flick had gone out there to help the stranger and now the stranger was dead. If Flick had stayed right here, in this room, the stranger would be alive, alive and violated, but alive in any form was better than dead.

  Flick had caused that woman’s demise. The reality numbed her but the tears didn’t stop. This was all her fault.

  Chapter Five

  The night passed slowly but quite quietly, considering the circumstances. The men hadn’t stayed outside for very long. They came inside, the TV went on, and then from what she could gather they drank themselves to sleep.

  Flick didn’t sit in the chair or use the bed. It seemed wrong that she should have any comfort when she’d been responsible for a woman’s death. From the moment she’d got here Flick had Rushe looking out for her, and if she’d needed a demonstration of what would happen without that protection she had got it yesterday. Skeeve was slimy, and clearly short more than a few IQ points but he’d proved he could pull the trigger.

  She hadn’t known hate in her life but she knew it now. Flick felt the coil of it twist inside her and the foul sense of impotence made her angry with herself. Past her own shame about how events had played out Flick knew that Skeeve had a choice, and he’d killed that woman in more than desperation. Skeeve didn’t want the woman to escape, but pulling that trigger had made him feel powerful, Flick just knew it.

  The walls closed in around her, through her hours of crying, Flick tried to hatch plans to free herself but came up empty. She had no survival skills, and she wouldn’t last a minute in these elements without any supplies. For the time being she was stuck here, and all she could do was silently beg Rushe’s return so that she could sheath herself in the shelter he provided.

  Though she had no idea of the specific time, there was no illusion that the next day had come when she heard the thud of the front door bouncing back against the wall followed by heavy footfalls.

  ‘Flick!’

  It was only when she heard the rumble in his voice that Flick realised he’d never used her actual name. Crawling across the floor Flick yanked the chair away and got to her feet while opening the door. Rushe was instantly upon her; she didn’t even have time to look at him. He wrenched her off her feet, kicked the door shut, and carried her to the bed.

  ‘Look at me,’ he said, seating her on the pillow and perching himself at the edge of the bed stroking her hair away from her face to inspect her wounds. ‘I’ll kill him. I’m gonna kill him.’

  ‘Rushe,’ she sobbed, aware her tears were flowing; she clawed at him, at his arms and his chest like she could crawl inside him. ‘They killed her... they killed her...’

  ‘I know,’ he said. ‘I know.’ Yanking her against him, his embrace was crushing but it was exactly what Flick needed. Crying into his chest, she replayed events in her mind. ‘I’m here now. You’re safe. I’m here.’

  Her own safety hadn’t been Flick’s concern, but his comfort was welcomed if indeed it was surprising. He let her cry and held her through it all. This was the same man who’d told her he’d turn her out to the others, her doubts about the veracity of that were confirmed.

  Flick pushed away from his chest but stayed in his arms. ‘It was my fault,’ she said. ‘They came in and I heard her and I went out there but... it was my fault. I riled him up. When the two of them had me pinned over the armchair she ran and... it was my fault.’

  Rushe bared his teeth but his lips didn’t move. ‘They had you pinned? Did they touch you?’

  ‘Rushe,’ she said, but he was up and out of the room.

  Flick darted out after him. Rushe was already at Skeeve’s chair haul
ing him up by his throat. He dragged the choking man to the wall and threw him against it from three feet away.

  ‘No second chances,’ Rushe said pulling a gun from she knew not where. ‘You think you can defy me? Abuse my woman? Do you feel clever now, big guy?’

  ‘Rushe!’ Flick exclaimed, running to his side when he cocked the gun. ‘He’s not worth it! He won’t do it again! He’s learned his lesson!’

  ‘Yeah, yeah boss,’ Skeeve said, cowering in the corner with no way out. ‘You got it! Hands off! You got it boss.’

  Rushe leaned down. ‘You touch one hair on her head again, and a gunshot will be the least of your worries... and you know what that means.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah boss.’

  Sticking his gun back in his waistband, Rushe grabbed a hold of her arm, and pulled Flick across the room to hole them in their bedroom again. Tossing her down on the bed he began to pace then stopped and dug around in the drawer.

  ‘What are you looking for?’ she asked when he banged one drawer shut and moved onto the next.

  ‘Take off your clothes,’ he mumbled.

  ‘You want to have sex? A woman is dead and you—‘

  Rushe stopped to glare at her. ‘I warned you I’d fuck you anytime I wanted. I want you naked, that’s all you’ve got to concern yourself with now.’

  After the comfort he’d given her on his arrival, Flick didn’t want to deny him. But sex with him meant less knowing he’d been at it with strippers and god knew who else. Skulking out of her clothes Flick folded them at her side. He smacked the drawer closed and sat on the bed.

  When he reached past her Flick didn’t know his purpose. ‘What are you do—’ The cold metal on her wrist made her recoil, and she tried to pull away but it was too late, he’d cuffed her to the bedframe.

  ‘What did you do that for?’ she asked, tugging on the restraint.

  Rushe was off the bed and in the middle of the room tucking the key in his pocket. ‘I left you alone and told you to stay in here if they got back before me. You didn’t do that.’