Day 5
Not long after losing Kiara, Deputy Plumb pulled off on a particularly dead stretch of freeway. A matching set of shiny black SUVs followed them, like some kind of twisted motorcade. Plumb, barely exchanging more than the necessary words with Singh, stepped out of the car, and was replaced with a wiry guard.
Singh seemed to be giving orders to the man, but Rafe couldn't make out what they were saying due to the criminally loud soft rock playing on the radio, presumably just for that reason.
Rafe's breath was coming out in hot hisses.
The urge to snort a line or, fuck, even pop something from a stranger's open hand, was stronger than he'd felt in ages. Back in Guadalupe, it felt like he was actually doing something with his life, something he was kind of good at. He liked the feeling of having a deal on the table - there was an element of unpredictability he still loved. He was also a pretty good negotiator - or so he thought.
In the back seat, he kept his head down, his hands gripping the back of his neck in a defensive pose. Probably, he should've been watching the road signs fly by. Figuring out how far away they were getting, what direction they were going. That's what Kie would do, he thought.
Tears pooling in his eyes, Rafe felt the full blow of his loss. No family. Probably no one was looking for him. His friends were of a particularly unreliable quality. Fair weather. They were around for Friday night to mooch off the supply of drugs, booze, and morally reprehensible girls that seemed to flock to Tannyhill, but after that? Rafe was on his own.
These past few days with Kiara, even as shitty and hopeless as they'd both felt, there was also a strange tinge of purpose in his life. A direction.
He'd never forgive himself if something happened to her; probably all Kie's Pogue friends would be out for blood, too.
Even if it killed him, he was going to get Kiara out of this fucking mess.
Rafe's chest lifted with a slow inhale. He sat back up, straight. In the rearview mirror, he caught his reflection. His dark blue eyes cleared of the storm that often swept through them.
Time to get to work.
Kiara didn't have "get dragged, kicking and screaming, into a foreclosed house" on her 2021 bingo card. Although, considering what the past two years had consisted of, maybe it wasn't too far off?
It just took one guard to bring her in, although she couldn't see him with the bandana now pulled over her eyes, matching the one forced in her mouth.
The feeling of not being able to see, or speak, and relying only on sounds to offer clues as to what was happening to her was extremely disorienting. She felt powerless. Weirder still, Kiara felt the urge to cry. She hadn't cried once in the time away from her parents. She didn't cry when she was locked up overnight with Rafe Cameron, who ranked highly on the mortal enemies list. But now, alone again, she felt the old familiar tears stinging her eyes.
She heard a door creak open, the sound the hinges made when they released.
Kiara could feel herself being dragged down a set of stairs. Tired of screaming uselessly, she choked out a gasp. It was so hard to breathe with the guard gripping her from behind. Each inhale felt harder than the last.
"Go, carefully," he barked. His breath was hot and insistent on the back of her neck. Kiara squirmed, even as she tried not to fall on the steps, getting used to the distance between each one.
She could hear another set of heavy footsteps - guards wearing boots, most likely - following them down.
Finally reaching the bottom of the stairs, Kiara felt the guard's hands slide down her arms. He pulled her arms together and used something, she couldn't see what, to secure her wrists together behind her back. At least this forced him to loosen his grip around her neck.
Kiara coughed painfully. She breathed in and out, greedily - how did she ever forget that air was a precious commodity? This new position with her arms forced behind her back was far from comfortable, however.
The guard gripped one of her arms in his hand. The size difference between them was so monumental that she could feel his hand completely wrap around her upper arm.
The covering over her eyes was untied, without ceremony. As her eyes blinked, adjusting to the sudden addition of light again, she took in the sights around her. Vainly, Kiara hoped no one could tell she'd been crying.
The new place she was being held was a considerable downgrade from the island's honeymoon suite, although she'd stayed in worse places. It was a lightly furnished basement apartment. There was a mini fridge, some staged-looking magazines on a small coffee table, a loft bed, and an en-suite bathroom.
"Kick back, relax," the guard who'd been cutting off her breath said, smirking. "Don't do anything stupid again. We'll visit you soon."
Kiara, hands zip-tied behind her back, did not like the sound of his words. There was something foreboding in his tone, something unspoken. Almost like he'd want to say what would happen to her if she did something stupid again.
The door was locked behind them with a definitive click.
Kiara's eyes flashed. She could just about reach her fingertips to the back pocket of her jean shorts, where she could feel the heavy shape of Joshua's phone - still there from when they'd been taken by Plumb from the convenience store.
Now, all she had to do was figure out how to get her hands untied so she could get to it. Before the battery died.
Rafe looked up, grinning, the split in his lip forming. Blood pooled on his tongue, and he tasted the familiar, heady taste of salt.
"I said, tell us how you found the cross." Singh's no-nonsense guard flicked Rafe's blood off his knuckles. A few drops splattered to the cement floor.
He'd been taken to an old factory, one that still had rusted agricultural equipment scattered around. The atmosphere was a little overly Texas Chainsaw Massacre.
"And I said," Rafe said slowly, "that I walked into church, just like I do every week, only this time, there was a gold, diamond-studded cross, just lying on the floor. I guess you could say, it was a gift from God."
The guard kicked the legs out from under Rafe's chair, sending him sprawling to the ground. His arms were cuffed and there were binds around his feet and chest, securing him to the wooden chair.
"You better hope Miss Carrera is being more honest," Singh bit out, from where he watched the interrogation take place, a foot or two away. "Because, I gotta tell you something, Rafe, ya'see, I gave you my nice men. Miss Carrera isn't so lucky."
A smile spread across his face as Singh watched the younger man's eyes find his.
Singh thought back to Kiara's earlier offer, of going to find the diary herself and leaving Rafe as her collateral. Even if she didn't care at all about him when she'd made the insulting offer, Singh could tell by the look on Rafe's face, that Kiara was the one who made pretty damn good collateral.
