Chapter 20
The trailer imprisoning Dina rocked again. She hit the wall, bounced, and landed face first on the mattress. Another jolt and she rolled onto the floor, pinning her hands beneath her back. Pain ricocheted through her wrists.
“Crap!” Wyatt landed next to her, his knee close to hitting her cheek before he shifted. “That was close.” He moved away from her and rose to a sitting position, bracing his back against the wall.
Sirens sounded in the distance and grew louder.
“The police found us,” she said, hope energizing her over-exhausted body. She moved backwards until she sat on the mattress and waited for the trailer to slow. She reflected on the last time she’d heard sirens and the horrifying gunfire that followed. The thought brought out her anxiety of an imminent replay.
Tears prickled the back of her eyes. She gazed at Wyatt, wanting to express her concern. They had come a long way in the short period of time they were thrust together. Believing he was the Caffeine Junkie was the stupidest idea her brain had ever conjured up. How could she have considered someone so compassionate, so sweet, evil?
He remained quiet, his gaze darting from wall to wall, like a crazed animal trapped and ready to battle whatever stood in his way. “There’s no fucking way out of here!”
She swallowed the pathetic scream that demanded release, hoping and praying his training would kick in and he’d give her some direction on what she could do. The FBI had to have practicals for this type of situation. In an agent’s line of work, kidnapping was a common occurrence, wasn’t it or had she watched too many movies?
Movies. Her mind did a loop de loop, landing on her and Cole snuggled on the couch watching TV, making out like teenagers and talking about their jobs like adults.
The sound of Wyatt groaning snapped her out of her daydream.
He stared unfocused at the wall, and her earlier assessment came rushing back. A newbie, he had no idea what to do to get them out of this situation.
The trailer jolted hard to the right. Her body flew against the wall.
Biting the inside of her lip, she sucked in a couple breaths, and let her brain wrap around the situation. If she had to fight, what could she do?
The siren grew closer.
“I think they’re following us,” she said to Wyatt.
His angry eyes flicked to hers. “Maybe. Be ready.”
Tires screeching and the trailer sliding stopped her from asking for what?
Her heart jumped to her throat and her body grew rigid. Even if her hands weren’t bound behind her back, there was nothing for her to grab onto, nothing to keep her from ping-ponging against the four walls.
The sound of the police sirens went faint and her hope sank, leaving her with the sense of defeat once again. Dina wallowed in the feeling…briefly before Cole’s face visualized, convincing her to shake off the setback and focus on the future. By doing so, she had to think outside the box, or at least the small box she was trapped inside.
Had one of the Junkie’s accomplices handled the officer? She tried to recall how many voices she’d heard while drugged to identify how many misfits she needed to look out for if, or when, she had an opportunity to escape—the person with a Creole accent who’d grabbed her off the street corner and a woman at the first location. There had to be more. No way could only two people work an operation this big.
The trailer wobbled; the sensation as if it balanced on two wheels.
Dina’s stomach fell to the floor. For a long moment, which was probably more like a fraction of a second, she and Wyatt stared at each other. Knowing what was about to happen didn’t cushion the sheer fear racing through her. Heart pounding and stomach knotting, she diverted her gaze, scooted backwards to the corner, and waited for the inevitable crash she felt in her bones. Closing her eyes, she braced her back against the wall, and prayed for survival, for rescue.
The trailer collapsed onto its side.
Dina flew through the air, hit the opposite wall. A sharp pain sliced through her shoulder and hip. The trailer shifted. She nosedived onto the mattress and fell onto the floor. The rough surface scratched her back. She shifted onto her side, curled into a ball, and waited for the ear-piercing sound of metal scraping to stop. The horrific noise reminded her of fingernails dragging across a chalkboard. Worse, it sounded like death.
An abrupt jolt ended the high-velocity, nerve-wracking sound, and thrust Dina forward. A burning sensation scraped over her forehead as she hit the wall. The plywood must have buckled under the pressure of the crash, knocking it from its restraints. A board thumped against her face, stinging her cheek.
Wyatt fell onto the floor beside her, a harsh intake of breath escaping him.
“Are you okay?” Shifting around to lie on her stomach, she stared into complete darkness.
“Yeah.” He said on a cough. “I am. You?” His hand touched her arm, face, and shoulder before tugging her to his body. He slid an arm around her back, tucking her against his chest, and caressed her skin. “You’ll be okay. I gotcha,” he said, speaking softly in her ear.
Dina’s brain was foggy. She dug deep to make sense of what just happened. The trailer crashed. Wyatt held her, his even tone said he wasn’t concerned as he was moments ago. What had changed? Their dangerous situation hadn’t changed.
“When the door opens, stay with me,” he said in that deadpan manner. “We don’t know who to trust.”
She agreed, but they couldn’t just sit there. They had to fight.
“Remember what I said about Sir Palladium. He’s on the list of suspects.”
“Wait.” She thought back to their earlier conversation. Didn’t he say Cole was off the list? Or had the crash disoriented her more than she realized? No matter, one thing was for certain, Cole had no part in what happened to her. If not at home waiting for the police to call, he was out searching, Vince and Monique, too. “He’s not part of this.”
Wyatt shifted, hooked an arm around her waist and yanked her into his lap. A hard object pressed into her side.
Her heart jumped into her throat and pounded with fear.
His hands were untied. When? How?
“Do as I say.” Wyatt’s voice morphed into a Creole dialect.
The blood drained from Dina’s body. Her first instinct concerning Wyatt was right. She gripped his forearm, now wrapped tight around her neck. “Why?” she wheezed out. “Aren’t you an agent?”
“Too many questions.” He growled out, his lips brushing her ear followed by a kiss.
One tight squeeze and Wyatt could snap her neck. She wouldn’t, couldn’t let him take her or shoot anyone. Feeling fragile as a China doll, she closed her eyes, gaining focus, and tried to channel the adrenaline charging through her veins.
He kissed her head.
Now, this was it, her right moment. She’d let him think she was into him and take action. Swallowing the bile threatening to rise at what she planned to do, she twisted.
Surprisingly, he loosened his grip around her neck, letting her.
“I love a man who takes charge,” she said, making sure her breath brushed across his face.
In response, heavy pants fanned over her skin.
Making headway, she still needed her hands untied. “Would you cut my bindings, so I can touch you?” She kept her voice smooth, adding a kittenish purr to her tone.
For a long moment, he didn’t move, giving her cause to believe he didn’t buy her act. Her brain scrambled to come up with another idea to convince him to let her into his trust circle. If she could do this a few more minutes, the police should arrive. Even if the authorities weren’t looking for her, a trailer overturned on the street had to draw attention.
His rigid chest muscles flexed.
She braced herself for more forceful behavior, but her hands broke free. He cut the binding!
Acting fast before he thought she played him and got herself killed, she rested a hand on his knee. When he didn’t react, she slid her hand higher on his thigh toward his waist, caressing and letting her fingers brush over the inside of his leg. His growing interest grew against her waist, his hard shaft awaiting her attention.
Where she’d thought him nice and not bad looking before, now she loathed him. Everything about him disgusted and revolted her. Still, she had a mission. One she hoped would keep her alive.
Nuzzling against his throat, she touched her lips to his skin. Salt, sweat, and the taste of rotten eggs filled her mouth.
He groaned his appreciation and slid his hand down her back, pressing her body against him and lowering his head to her mouth. His lips and tongue assaulted hers as if they’d never kissed a woman. The victims’ names the reporter said flashed into her mind. She wanted to clamp her teeth together, take the tip of his tongue off, and feed it to a neighboring cat, but she couldn’t.
Hoping like hell the door would open any second, she went outside her body, numbing herself so she could put the next phase of her plan into action. With a deep breath, she gave into his tongue’s ministrations.
His hand wandered, sliding over the sides her breasts. Cupping her butt before one hand latched onto one of her breasts and he squeezed.
She squealed.
“You think you can fuck with me?” His anger as sharp as pieces of glass shards, “You think you can distract me?”
“Noo.” She shook her head so fast she vibrated. “I didn’t. I—”
“You what?”
Needing the willpower of guts and the toughness of balls, she dug deep into her reserve. A calm presence overtook her, one of total control, and hardness covered her features, not that he could see. “You’re turning me on,” she said in the sex-kitten tone again.
For several moments, he didn’t say a word and she thought she lost her chance to possibly get the upper hand.
Out of the darkness, his lips went on the attack again, smashing her tender lips with a mouth as hard as steel. His hands grasped her breasts.
A man’s groping bag? No way. Guts and balls, she silently said, and punched him in the nuts, ensuring he’d grab for them and not for his gun, laying somewhere in the dark.
“You fucking bitch!”
Before she could get away, he yanked her backwards by the hair into his brutal embrace and assaulted her lips with his mouth.
The door swung open. A ray of light filtered into the room.
“Don’t move, princess.” Wyatt clutched her throat and aimed a gun at her head.
Tears fell from her eyes. She’d been tough, but now, him using her as a human shield, she lost hope. Help was here, but defeat took hold and drained her energy. The determination she’d kept close by loss its luster and vanished. Inside this trailer, she stood helpless with the Caffeine Junkie pointing a gun at her head and staring at…Cole!
Determination rushed back into her two-fold. Guts and balls, she told herself. She jabbed her elbow backwards into Wyatt’s stomach, and let her fist swing hard down into his nuts.