Chapter 14
“Get out!” Cole shoved open the car door against the slanting rain and hail, and darted inside the closest store, a bouquet of fragrances assaulting his nose.
Silo busted in behind him.
Outside, the winds grew stronger. From the far end of the street, a gray funnel touched the ground and tracked the road as if it were a car. People ran from their vehicles, leaving car doors open in their haste.
Heart double timing, Cole waited by the windows for Vince and Monique to arrive while thoughts concerning Dina ricocheted around his mind. Was she okay? Had she stopped off at another store? Then the one he dreaded sent an icy chill down his spine. Did she fall victim to the person the police dubbed the Caffeine Junkie? His heart and lungs, hell everything, fell to the pit of his stomach, and twisted into a knot. He had to find her.
“Boss,” Silo called, plunging Cole out of the downward spiral his thoughts had taken. “Do you see them?”
“No. Hopefully they found cover on the other side of the street,” Cole said and looked behind him into the store, past the pale faces and round eyes staring out the window as if watching a horror flick. He zoomed in on the soon-to-be mini-missiles, figurines on glass shelves and candles in the center display.
A salesgirl in her early twenties stood next to the cash register. Given her wide eyes and mouth, she wouldn’t offer any direction for the growing crowd of people seeking shelter.
His eyes flicked to the rear of the store. In the back corner was a door. The only place he could see that could feasibly offer refuge.
“I still don’t see them.” Silo’s nervous voice wrenched Cole out of planning an escape route.
He twisted back to the front and checked the approaching funnel. If he hadn’t seen it off in the distance for himself, he’d swear the wind was a downburst. “I’m sure they’re okay,” he said, not sure what to think, but Cole could tell by Vince’s demeanor he was a survivor.
His thoughts darted from Vince to Dina, with each passing moment, his worry for her increased. In the boardroom, he knew exactly what to do and when to do it. If Dina was taken—the thought clutched his heart and he sucked in a breath—he’d be thrust into an area out of his element.
He fisted his hands and pressed his lips together. Fear had never been so palpable that he wanted to kill someone. Lord help the person who abducted her.
Lightning flashed, forcing him back to the here and now, and the uncertainty of what happened to Vince and Monique rushed forward, making him feel more helpless. Until the storm passed, his hands were tied.
The dark sky brightened to a purplish green color then darkened.
Movement and chattering stopped. The room grew deathly quiet.
Silo stepped backwards, his hands frozen mid-waist, palms forward, and his head shook so fast, it vibrated.
From the left, the dark gray swirling cloud appeared.
“Get in the back!” Cole shouted and pointed to the back corner.
A child screamed.
A stampede raced to the storage room. Men, women, and children rushed to the back with Cole bringing up the rear.
Someone slammed the door as soon as he stepped inside.
He and other trapped victims heaved boxes from the stock along the walls and on shelves and set them against the door, backed away, and stared, waiting for the inevitable.
A small child stood beside him, his hand in his mother’s, staring at Cole with tears streaming down his face, and his mouth quivering. Cole’s heart tightened.
The mother held a baby close in her arms, worry lines etching her face.
He smiled and motioned toward the child, asking if he could pick up her son. At the mother’s nod, he scooped up the boy and held him tight against his chest, giving him security. The boy wrapped his arms around Cole’s neck and squeezed. The action hit a nerve, reminding him what he’d lost and might never have.
A thunderous roar and the room vibrated, followed by glass shattering and boards snapping.
Sobs erupted.
Cole felt his strength seep away as powerlessness submerged him in the pit of the storm’s wrath, immobilizing him and leaving him with an empty, hollow sensation in its wake.
Time passed before the rumbling grew distant then vanished.
He squeezed the child before lowering him into the mix of crying people, clinging to each other.
The mother grasped the child’s hand. Unable to speak for the tears, she mouthed, “Thank you,” and kissed Cole’s cheek.
“You’re welcome,” he said, fighting to relax his tightened throat.
He, Silo, and others moved the boxes aside and opened the door. A purplish glow bled around the destroyed exterior wall, shimmering across the floor and glistening on the broken glass.
Near the front, the roof had caved. Electrical wires dangled from the damaged ceiling, blocking the exit.
“I’ll check to make sure the area is safe,” Cole said, heading out of the storage room.
He picked his way through the glass shards and climbed over boards. Approaching the loose wires, he stepped wide for concern they were alive and paused. The front-end of his limo rested inside the store. The car’s frame balanced on the wall’s remains, and the rear end blocked most of the sidewalk.
Damn.
Between his limo and the crumpled exit, a three-foot passage existed to outside.
“Silo!” he shouted. “Lead everyone up here. Take the same path I did.”
With the child Cole held minutes ago in his arms, Silo gingerly walked toward Cole.
Cole stepped over the compromised wall and onto the sidewalk. Under the canopy of dark clouds, the street looked like a war zone. The howling wind and slanting rain had been replaced by children’s screams and sniffles.
Parts of buildings splintered and crumbled, cars had been repositioned and their doors hung on by a hinge if not missing.
A whimper turned his focus to Silo and the little boy.
Cole grabbed the boy by the waist, lifted, and gave him a hug. “You are a brave young man.”
The boy’s lips quivered.
“I need to help your mommy.” He lowered him to the ground. “Stay right there. Don’t move. Okay?”
He nodded.
Cole accepted the baby from the woman. With a hand on her elbow, he guided her to the sidewalk. He passed the quiet baby over. “Are you able to get home okay, ma’am?”
“If you don’t need me, I’ll escort her, sir.” Silo’s compassion for a complete stranger touched him.
Cole looked at his destroyed car. “No, I don’t believe I do.”
“Thank you,” the woman said, her voice shaking.
“I’ll find you later, sir.” Silo lifted the child into his arms and escorted the woman holding her baby through the debris covering the sidewalk.
Cole turned his attention to the line of people standing inside the store. He wanted to find Vince and Monique and start searching for Dina again, but these people needed help.
After several people cleared the damage, a kind Samaritan filled in for Cole. He rushed across the street, avoiding pieces of metal and wood and their jagged edges, to the cigar store near where the limo had stopped.
Not spotting them, he made his way to the alley next to the store. Halfway down, a man lay on his back, a hand pressed to his side. At first sight, he thought it was Vince until a woman hurried toward him.
Giving the alley one more searching look, he twisted back to the road.
“Cole! Over here.” Two stores down, Vince bent over Monique. His hands, covered in blood, pressed on her thigh.
Damn!
The bleeding needed to stop before she lost too much. Rescue workers combed the area, but it’d take a while before everyone received the attention they needed. He stripped his belt from around his waist. “This will do for a tourniquet until rescue workers arrive.”
Monique paled, her hair stuck to the side of her face. “I can’t believe I hit the damn thing,” her voice quaked, sounding like she was in shock.
“Keep her calm.” Cole crouched next to her and slid the belt under her leg.
“We dove into the ally,” Vince said. “A faucet gouged her.”
Cole nodded. He wished they’d followed him. “The leather needs another hole to buckle tight enough to stop the bleeding.”
“Here.” Vince slid a hand into his pocket and passed him a pocketknife.
Cole made a hole and fastened the belt above the two-inch-long wound. “There, that should help slow the bleeding. The cut doesn’t look bad, but it’s a gusher. She’ll need stitches.”
Vince blanketed her with his jacket. Cole stripped off his and placed it under her head. The air cooled his skin, making him shudder.
“Thank you,” she whispered before turning to Vince. “It stings.”
Cole understood the anguish registering on Vince’s face firsthand. Not able to help someone you care for in their time of need was the worst feeling he’d ever suffered. Twice in his life he had experienced it. Once with a woman he just thought he loved, and now, with the woman he knew he loved more than his own life.
Cole rose, his concern for Dina turned into a full fledge rage as his thoughts filled with the possible dangers she faced, nature-made and man-made. He couldn’t do anything about Mother Nature, but he damn well could deal with a man.
****
Notions of death raced in Dina’s brain, surging adrenaline through her body and thudding her heart against her ribs. Her eyelids remained heavy, denying her a glimpse of the surroundings…worse…preventing her from seeing what was yet to come.
Metal creaked, followed by a cool blast of air. Her head fell onto the seat, the fabric sticking to her cheek.
What’s happening?
Firm hands gripped her shoulders, and tugged her across the seat. A hard object stabbed her back. Motors running and tires slapping wet pavement sounded in the distance.
No rain touched her face. The absence of light hitting her eyelids hinted at a still gloomy sky.
Where was he taking her?
The kidnapper jostled her until she rested against his chest. Sweat and mildew accosted her senses. Alarm spurred through her, developed into fury, yet as much as she wanted to wage war against her kidnapper, she was powerless.
Anger had to stay her center…her focus. She could build on the emotion for strength. Her life depended on it. When her senses returned, sustaining control would expedite her escape.
“Here we are, darling.”
A frightening, sinking awareness hit the pit of her stomach. Frantic questions bombarded her. Would the authorities find her? Would Cole? Why would Luke do this? Was he really an agent or did he lie?
At the coffeehouse, Luke was jumpy, but didn’t possess the attributes she’d tag as a killer…until he forced her outside.
Memories surfaced, though somewhat muddled. Luke pinned her to the wall in front of the coffee shop and invaded her space. The brief moment before everything happened she’d wondered if he tried to frighten her so she’d go with him easily. Then he’d shifted closer. The intimacy of the position provoked her instincts into action. She’d kneed him, connected with his nuts, and ran.
The part that puzzled her: Luke spoke with a Texas drawl. The guy in the truck spoke with a Creole accent. Why would he change his dialect?
She thought back to the sidewalk near Café Coffees—Luke yelling to freeze, yet his eyes hadn’t met hers.
Was someone else there?
The thought of maiming Luke when he tried to help sent a sick feeling to the pit of her stomach and made her wonder. If he didn’t take her, who did? Pin pricks covered her skin as icy tendrils of dread slithered over her backbone. She groaned. The Caffeine Junkie had her.
“Shush,” the man barked, his tone menacing. She sucked in a breath and tried to open her eyes to see if it was the man who scared her at Café Coffees to no avail.
She failed in an effort to free herself. In reality, she hadn’t budged. Unwanted thoughts rampaged across her psyche—being stripped and tied like a wild animal, worse. She tried to swallow the lump of dread that took up permanent residence in her throat.
The devil was the only word to describe a person who would inflict horror on another. Rage grasped onto her from all sides, fortifying her debate about worrying if she could keep focused or not. She could and would. Damn him to hell. He may take her, harm her, but she would fight and make him pay for what he did…to her…to others, until she no longer breathed.
The man she now knew as the Caffeine Junkie climbed down several steps. A door dragged open and the rancid smell of mothballs gagged her.
“Hello,” a woman said and the door clicked shut. “Is she okay?” Her pitch changed from happy to solemn.
“Please help!” Dina said in silence, still unable to speak.
“Ah, yes,” the Caffeine Junkie responded, a sneer intertwined with his accent.
“Good. A tornado touched down in the city. Our area has a warning.” The woman’s caring tone morphed to stern. “Get her in the back before someone passes by the window and sees her.”
What? No! You can’t work with him.
“On it.”
“I best be going,” the woman said. “I have a full day ahead of me and over half is gone. I left food and water in the refrigerator. Be ready to go in twenty-four hours.”
A finger rubbed her face. “She’s a beaut. Don’t mess with this one. We need her in good shape to get top dollar.”
Then he moved again.
Panic surged into Dina’s chest, sending her heart rate into a sprint. She kicked her legs and swung her arms. Little good it did, she could only move in her imagination.
His rough gait jumbled her. The tiny pricks stabbing her skin increased giving her hope that her comatose state would lift soon and allow her to fight.
He lowered her to a firm, yet soft surface. “Here you are, home sweet home.” His singsong voice repulsed her, but she’d listened to it if it meant she didn’t have to stay in his arms. She sucked in a fortifying breath of air and released it.
Heavy panting fell against her neck.
Oh God, he’s watching me.
Her heart thundered against her breastbone. Too afraid to even try to open her eyes, she stayed motionless, hoping he wouldn’t take advantage of a lifeless body. Time stood still until the threat disappeared on footsteps echoing and the sound of the door bumping closed.
She released a breath.
Alone with her thoughts, helplessness and loneliness intertwined, tightening her chest and burning her eyes.
She curled into a ball. Tears fell from her eyes.