Page 38 of Legends: Easton (Legends of Fire Creek #3)

Easton hovered on the edge of consciousness and oblivion. The drug his captors had used to subdue him kept him out for the count for a while. He had no way of knowing where he was or how he got there.

They had decided to bring him out of his blackout by punching the shit out of him.

He had wakened to discover his hands were tied above his head.

He had been stripped down to his boxer briefs.

His shoulders ached from supporting his body weight since the tips of his bare feet barely reached the floor.

He was pretty sure by the difficulty he had breathing that he had a broken rib or two to go with his swollen lip, battered eye, and bruises. There wasn’t a part of his body that didn’t scream with pain, but his hatred for his captors numbed him to the hurt.

Melvin had smirked at him when he snapped a picture with a cell phone.

Easton’s first thought was he hoped the asshole texted the photo to his brothers.

Luke would use it to track him, and then Melvin would get the punishment he deserved.

The second thought he had was the realization of where he actually was.

He recognized the interior of the building even though he’d been unconscious during the drive.

Marley’s Billiards. Damn, he hadn’t thought of this place in years.

The pool hall had been a rough establishment that drew people looking for cheap alcohol, lots of wagers on the outcome of pool games, and regular fist fights that started for no apparent reason and always ended with the cops being called.

It had been years before the police actually closed the place down, and no one bothered to use the building for anything afterward. He wasn’t even sure who owned it.

Not that the knowledge did him any good. After a few more knife wounds and a few more punches, Melvin cut Easton down, and he collapsed to the floor, groaning at the pain radiating through him. The son of a bitch dragged him to a back room and tossed him onto a chair.

Easton was too weak to fight Melvin, so the man didn’t bother securing his feet. Melvin did zip tie his hands behind his back. Easton had the wherewithal to flex his wrists as Melvin tightened the restraints, making the binding looser and giving him room to break free.

Now he had to wait.

Blackness threatened to consume him, but he fought it.

He pretended to be unconscious, but he knew the only chance he had was to stay aware and be ready to make his move.

He positioned his head so they would assume he was out cold.

He kept his eyes opened only enough for him to observe what was happening.

“How long should we wait?” The woman paced the room, her shaky fingers running through the strands of her hair that fell over her shoulder.

“Long enough to make them sweat. Relax. We’re the ones in control. We’re calling the shots.” Melvin’s tone was low and coaxing as if he was talking to a child.

“This has better work, Clive. I want her to pay. I want her to die.” She stopped in front of him, but her body swayed with nervous energy.

“She will. They both will. I haven’t let you down, and I won’t start now.”

Melvin pulled the woman in for a hug that hinted at a relationship that went beyond boss and client. The embrace didn’t last longer than a few seconds before Melvin pulled away.

“I’m going to check the perimeter. Stay here and keep an eye on him.”

He heard the woman make a noise that was probably meant to be a laugh but sounded more like a maniacal alarm.

“Him? He’s out cold and tied up. I’m not worried.”

“You should be. There’s something about him I don’t trust.”

You shouldn’t trust me, asshole.

Melvin stepped outside, leaving Easton alone with the woman. He hadn’t been able to figure out who she was or why she wanted Bailee. The woman harbored some dark hatred, and he noted signs of drug withdrawal. Both were enough to make her unpredictable.

She started pacing again, mumbling to herself, but he couldn’t decipher what she said.

Eventually, she stopped in front of him, close enough for him to touch her.

It wouldn’t be difficult to overpower her while Melvin was outside.

But his gut instinct told him to observe and learn instead of attack.

“I can see why she screwed you. You’re hot. Definitely someone I would take to bed. But her? What did you see in her?”

The woman kicked at the bottom of his foot, and he tried not to wince. But the pain won out.

She hissed. “I know you’re awake. Look at me!”

He rolled his head up and opened his eyes wider.

His right eye had swollen enough that looking through it was a challenge.

But he studied her. She wore the signs of a hard life.

If she hadn’t laughed while Melvin tortured him, Easton might have allowed himself to feel sympathy.

Instead he felt nothing but contempt for this woman bent on extracting revenge against Bailee.

“Did she tell you what she did to me?” The woman all but screeched the question.

Easton kept all emotion from his face and his tone. The more intel he could gather would only improve his position, and he knew how to keep people talking.

“You tell me.”

“She ruined my life. She killed my daughter. She stole my livelihood. She left me with nothing.”

Daughter. Shantayle. Mom. Sabra. He always had a knack for remembering details, so the names came to his mind without much effort.

“You have your partner. Melvin.”

The mention of the man’s name seemed to calm Sabra’s agitation, and Easton suspected there was something romantic about their situation that their earlier embrace didn’t allude to.

“Clive wants revenge too. He hates cops. He agrees with me that she has to pay.”

“Who is he to you?”

Sabra’s eyes narrowed, and Easton braced himself for what was coming. He sensed a change in her, but he didn’t know what that was exactly.

“He’s everything to me.”

She stepped closer to him and pointed her gun at his head. “What is she to you?”

He brought his eyes to meet hers. She was looking for leverage and was banking on his feelings for Bailee to give her that. He’d be damned if he allowed that to happen.

“She’s nothing to me.”

Rage fired in her eyes, and her smile was full of malice. “Liar.”

She drew back and slammed the butt of her gun against his temple.

The blow wasn’t hard enough to knock him out, but with the injuries he already had, the hit let loose another round of pain coursing through him.

He allowed his head to drop, his breath catching in his throat.

Closing his eyes to the hurt, he heard Sabra step away from him.

Then he heard a noise from the front of the building.

Melvin was returning. He decided to play unconscious because if the other man suspected he was alert, Melvin would start in on the torture again.

Easton wasn’t sure how much more of that he could take.

He needed as much recovery time between beatings as he could get for himself.

“Come in, Officer.”

Sabra’s challenge had him opening his eyes to slits again.

Bailee. His heart leapt into his throat to see her on the business end of Melvin’s gun.

But she found him. He had no idea how, but he guessed his brothers had something to do with it.

Because if she was here, his brothers weren’t too far away.

He would kick their asses later for sending her in as bait.

He listened to Bailee taunt them, and he wanted to signal her to lay off.

She might have some idea of how deadly Sabra and Melvin were, but he wasn’t sure she realized just how unstable they were.

He was relieved when Bailee hinted that she hadn’t come alone, but then where were his brothers? Why were they taking so long to breach?

“On your knees.”

The command didn’t signal anything good.

Careful not to attract attention, the minute he saw Sabra and Melvin turn their backs to him, he moved his arms subtly.

It took a couple of tries before he caught Bailee’s eye, and he could have kissed her at how well she hid her reaction.

The time to make a move was now. He just hoped his brothers were close enough to provide back-up, or he and Bailee had little chance of making it out alive.

∞∞∞

Bailee’s heart pounded. She was certain Melvin could see it in the thumping pulse at her throat. Sabra, on the other hand, was focused more on her own sense of triumph at having Bailee where she wanted her. Bailee pierced the woman with a hard stare.

“So what now? I’m here. I’m on my knees. What’s your plan, Sabra? To torture me? To kill me? None of it will bring Shantayle back. Shantayle wouldn’t want this.”

Sabra visibly shook, either from her withdrawal or from her anger, Bailee couldn’t decide which.

She stepped right up to Bailee, looming over her prisoner despite her slight stature.

She gripped Bailee’s chin roughly, jerking her face up at a painful angle.

Bailee longed to punch the woman right in the gut, but she waited. Her time would come.

“You have no right to say her name. You brainwashed her. You convinced her there was something better waiting for her, but all you did was get her killed. You deserve so much worse than either of us can do, but I’m going to enjoy watching you suffer.

You are a worthless bitch, and I will crush you like a bug. ”

“You will, or your minion will?” Bailee flicked her eyes toward Melvin. “It seems to me he’s following your lead like you’re the boss.”

Sabra released her, and Bailee moved her jaw to ease the pain left by Sabra’s touch. She will likely have a bruise from the other woman holding her so tight.

“Don’t let her get to you,” Melvin murmured to Sabra.

Bailee raised a brow. “Maybe he’s not so much your minion as your emotional support criminal. Is that a thing?”

Sabra backhanded her across the mouth before Bailee could move out of the way.

Bailee bit the inside of her lip. The coppery taste of blood coated her tongue.

She spit it out, the blood-laced saliva landing in front of Sabra’s boots.

She met her captor’s eyes and decided another approach was needed.

“Shantayle told me you had a fiery spirit once. I didn’t believe her then, but I see it. I guess you had to suppress it to survive gang life.”

“I told you to stop talking about my daughter.”

“She also said she remembered when you used to braid her hair. Her scalp was sensitive, and she hated for anyone to touch it because they always pulled her hair too hard. She said you had the softest touch. Shantayle didn’t hate you, Sabra.

She didn’t really feel sorry for you either.

She loved you. She worried about you. I think she believed if she could get away from B Diggs and T-Loc, she could save you from that life too. ”

“I don’t need saving,” Sabra bit out through clenched teeth.

“Because you have Clive? He’s your ticket to freedom from the gang, isn’t he? So why not leave? Why kidnap my friend and me? Why bother with us at all?”

“Why do you care?” Melvin returned in a menacing tone. “Why are you obsessed with how we know each other?”

She shrugged. “I don’t like unsolved puzzles, and how the two of you came to work together is a puzzle I can’t figure out.”

“And you w—”

A sudden noise diverted Melvin and Sabra’s attention from Bailee, and she bit back a smile.

She would have preferred the diversion to happen a bit sooner, but she wouldn’t complain.

She was glad she’d thought to grab the door breaching device when she collected her weapons and tactical clothes from Gran’s.

The DBC emitted a charge that detonated in a small, localized explosion, making it effective for busting through locked doors.

Setting the DBC on one of the nearby trees created enough smoke and noise to be a distraction without knocking down the tree.

She’d set the timer before climbing to the roof, doing her best to estimate how much time she’d need to get inside to Easton before it detonated.

“What the hell was that?” Sabra demanded.

Melvin glanced toward the door and then at Sabra. “Cover them. I’ll go check it out.”

Bailee stayed still long enough for Melvin to get outside. Then she made her move. She pushed to her feet and lunged for Sabra, the force of falling to the floor knocking the wind out of Sabra’s lungs. Bailee gripped Sabra’s wrist and slammed it three times until Sabra dropped her gun.

Bailee snagged the weapon and pushed Sabra over to her stomach before the woman could regain the upper hand. Securing the gun at her waistband, Bailee pulled black zip ties from the pocket of her cargo pants and secured Sabra’s arms and legs.

Sabra finally caught her breath and started to shout, but Bailee pulled a bandanna out of her pocket and stuffed it in the woman’s mouth.

She turned her attention to Easton. Knowing Melvin could be back anytime, she pulled out a Swiss army knife and cut through his restraints.

“Bailee.” His voice was low and strained but one of the best sounds she’d heard in a while.

She dropped down beside him, lowering her head until she looked into his eyes. “We need to get out of here. Can you walk?”

Before he could answer, Melvin burst back in the room, his gun drawn. Bailee pulled the gun she’d taken from Sabra and whirled on Melvin, shielding Easton with her body. Melvin fired his weapon at the same time the ground beneath them shook with the force of an explosion that rocked the building.