Mounting Danger

Chapter 12- Murderous Intent

The jeep came to a stop in front of a house that looked like it had been plucked from a horror movie. The old house was shrouded in shadows with only the pale glow of the moon for lighting outside. Through the window, however, I could make out a small glow from a lightbulb but nothing else. I glanced at Ricky, whose charming demeanor had dissolved into something far more menacing, a hint of sadistic pleasure dancing in his eyes. 

What the hell had I gotten myself into? 

Every instinct screamed at me to turn back, to bolt from whatever darkness awaited me inside that house. But I couldn't. The weight of this task rested heavily on my shoulders, anchoring me to this path I had chosen. If I couldn't get Ricky to trust me how would I ever et him completely secluded?

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I stepped out of the jeep and followed Ricky to the front door, my heart pounding in my chest. I had to be smart about my choices. Of course, I wasn't planning on killing anyone but my cop-out needed to be believable.

As we entered, the house seemed to swallow us whole, the dim lighting casting eerie shadows on the walls. The hallway stretched out before us, leading to a door that promised nothing but dread. I bit my lip nervously while Ricky led the way. His footsteps were slow and taunting. When he finally reached the single door at the end of the hallway he placed his hand on the knob and turned to me. His lips were now twisted into a sly smile. "Ready for the big reveal?"

I nodded, though my stomach was doing a cartwheel into a summersalt. The door creaked open, this time blinding light pouring out. I bowed my head until my eyes adjusted. Then they went as wide as saucers.

In the center of the room, a young man was strapped to a chair and gagged.  Dried blood crusted around his nostrils and streaked down his chin from a split lip. One eye was swollen shut, surrounded by an angry bruise. He barely stirred. How could he when he was beaten to a pulp?  Ricky flitted from my side and over to the man giving him an echoing slap. Then he pulled the gag away revealing a blood-crusted mouth and busted lip. 

A moment later, his blackened eyes, wide with a primal fear, flickered towards Ricky. Then came his attempts at screaming. It was nothing more than painful gasps and moans but it conveyed his fear the same. Ricky lifted a hand again and I averted my gaze with a small gasp.

It was enough to alert the stranger of my presence. He began a louder moan, this time his words more understandable.

 "Help." He stretched his body forward as much as it would go. The rope strung around his torso dug into his bruised flesh and I grimaced. "Please." He pleaded, earning me a long gaze from Ricky. 

He was gauging my reaction.

I waved a finger and took a step closer. "Tsk Tsk. I'm not here to help you. Maybe you should scream a little louder so someone outside will hear you." 

This made Ricky smile but my throat was tightening with each second. I watched as Ricky circled the man before slapping a heavy palm on his shoulder. "This," he said, indicating the captive, "is a traitor who thought he could double-cross me." His voice was devoid of emotion. 

"I think I figured that part out," I said, trying to keep up my careless persona. The man's eyes jutted up to me again in a silent plea for mercy, a plea I knew would go unanswered.

"What do you think should be done with traitors?" Ricky asked, his gaze piercing into me. I struggled to maintain my composure. After a few seconds, I give Ricky a confused look.

 "Justice should be served obviously." 

His grin widened like a Cheshire cat. "Exactly. And tonight, you're going to help me serve it."