Savage Vandal (82 Street Vandals Book 1) Read online

  Not hearing anything, I managed to turn the handle until it gave the faintest click and then swung inward slowly. I glanced out at another bedroom. Laid out similarly to the room I was in, it was done in darker colors. Black comforter. Black sheets. Black light in the corner. That was weird. Even the walls were plain like my room, with a couple of posters of cars on them.

  Oddly, like my room, it also had no windows. There were two lights close to the ceiling that illuminated the room in low light like they had in mine when my head had been hurting. What was their problem with windows? Had they ever heard of fire codes?

  I rolled my eyes at myself. Right, because guys who kidnapped people were going to worry about city code violations.

  It wasn’t much more than I’d already glimpsed the few times the door had been open. The room itself had three other doors. Fuck my life. Really?

  I leaned a little farther out but heard no one, and there wasn’t anyone readily apparent. Did I risk it?

  Check one door. At least eliminate a possibility. I had a one in three chance of finding the right door the first time.

  I glanced around the room and chose the door to my left. It was on the opposite wall of where my bathroom was situated in my room, and I tested the handle. When no resistance met my effort, I pulled the door open a fraction. A hallway was visible through the sliver, dark with splashes of yellowish looking light. A faint smell of sawdust, sweat, and old gyms hit me. I’d trained in enough, that scent was too damn familiar.

  “Freddie, where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Kestrel’s voice drifted up the hall. “You heard Jasper. You don’t go in there.”

  “C’mon, Hawk’s lost his damn mind. Boo-Boo has to be going insane.”

  “Stop calling her that and get your ass to work. You miss another day, and you’re going to get shit-canned.” Kestrel sounded so aggrieved.

  “Probably for the best. I’m really bored there anyway, and the manager is on my ass every night.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t have fucked her then.” I could practically hear the eye roll, and despite the fact I was supposed to be checking for a way out, that actually made me want to laugh.

  “Dude, the tits on this chick. I mean, I’ve seen yoga balls that didn’t have that girth. I had to come in between them. Then she was all about me eating that pussy. But been there and done that, and now I’m in the mood for something a little more delicate and maybe, you know, slender.”

  “Freddie, if you go near her room, I’ll cut your balls off and feed them to you.” The ice in that threat came straight from Jasper, and my heart jerked at the unrestrained violence.

  “Damn, Hawk. You have got to get laid. You are so tense.”

  I closed the door as easily as I could and then fled back into my room and shut that door. I’d just sat back on the bed and fixed my gaze on the ceiling when the door handle jiggled. Jasper cursed and flung the door open abruptly, and I jumped, not quite able to strangle the stupid scream as the door slammed against the inner wall and an angry Jasper filled the opening.

  He glared at me like it was my fault.

  “What the hell?” At least it explained my sudden rapid pulse and uneven breathing. The adrenaline rush of nearly being caught had nothing on the furious man radiating barely suppressed violence.

  “You’re still here.” The incongruous statement surprised me.

  “Where was I supposed to go?” Yeah, I knew which door in that other room led to a hall. I didn’t know where that hall went or what building we were in or even where we were. So yeah, where would I go?

  That was a tomorrow Emersyn problem. I still needed to get more mobile and work on building up my strength.

  I was getting out of here.

  One way or another.

  He blew out a breath and finally dragged that icy gaze off of me, and I could breathe again. That was when I noticed the chair he had in one hand and the plastic sheeting in the other. Well, not just plastic, but cloth with rings on it.

  A shower curtain.

  Stepping in, he closed the door with his boot and carried the stuff into the bathroom. I leaned forward as the chair legs scraped porcelain. Then there was a snapping sound and rustling. A minute later, he came back out and pointed at me. “Stay there.”

  I raised my hands. No, I’d already tested my luck for today. Staying right here would be fine.

  He gave me a firm nod, then slipped out. This time, he wasn’t gone near as long as he had been before. No more than three minutes. So I doubted he’d left the hall. When he returned, he had an oversized duffle bag.

  With a little flourish, he set it on the bed. “We got this for you. I just didn’t realize it hadn’t been brought in here.”

  I didn’t recognize the bag, but that didn’t mean anything. Despite the terse tone, he folded his arms and rubbed his thumb against his lower lip as he watched me. Normally, he’d been in button-down shirts, but today, he had on a dark green henley with the sleeves pushed up and beat-up jeans that had seen better days.

  Easing forward when he gave me a look like get a move on, I pulled the bag open and pulled out huge fluffy towels. Three of them. They were soft, much softer than the threadbare one I’d used the other night. They were also gray, kind of like the sheets on the bed, but a softer, dove gray and pretty. Included with the towels were a pair of washcloths and some hand towels. Beneath all of that was shampoo, a salon brand I recognized but rarely used, and it was scented like citrus. More, there was vanilla soap, exfoliator, and lotion. Also body cream.

  It was all very sweet. Most of these brands had been in the bathroom at my hotel, but not all of them. The body cream I’d had in my dressing room at the theatre. I glanced up to find Jasper studying me steadily with no expression on his face.

  “Thank you,” I said slowly. “This is very…nice of you.”

  Was there etiquette for expressing gratitude to your kidnapper? Yes, I’d behave because you brought me some nice shampoo and conditioner. That was totally worth the price of my freedom.

  Right.

  “You’re welcome.” A ghost of a smile seemed to hover over his lips, then vanished as he grabbed the stuff from the bed. “I’ll put all this in here, and I’ve got plastic to wrap up your splint. I can remove the wrap.”

  He disappeared into the bathroom, then reappeared a moment later.

  “Well c’mon, I want to make sure you can reach everything before I leave you in there to do it.”

  Oh.

  With care, I slid off the bed and limped into the bathroom. I took my time and played it up a bit more than necessary. They didn’t need to know I was getting better.

  In fact, the less they knew, the better.

  He had the towels hung up and arranged all the bath products along the shelf in the tub. The chair was in the middle, facing the shower head. I’d have to lean forward to rinse my hair.

  Beggars didn’t get to be choosers.

  “Can you get in the tub?”

  It took some maneuvering, but I managed to get in, though it was a near miss ’cause I had to hop a little to get my good leg over faster.

  Jasper scowled.

  “Sit.”

  I was tempted to ignore the barked command. I wasn’t a damn dog, but I had to admit, I was also curious. So I sat. He vanished. This time, he was gone long enough, I started to wonder if he intended for me to just shower while he was gone. I could reach the controls and the bath products.

  Opening the vanilla body soap, I took a deep breath of it. It was sweet and clean and probably the nicest thing I’d smelled since they’d brought me hot spaghetti and garlic bread the other night.

  My stomach growled at the memory. It had been a while since lunch, I thought. Maybe longer than normal, but my jailer was currently occupied with another task.

  I managed to strip off my pajama bottoms when it seemed like he really wasn’t coming back. Bracing my foot on the edge of the tub, I began to unwrap it. I’d figure out the splint in a minute.
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  Jasper appeared in the doorway with a drill and some metal rods and a few other items. Kestrel was right behind him. “Move her,” Jasper told Kestrel, and the other man shot me what I thought might be an apologetic look and held out an arm.

  I gripped it and stood, ignoring the fact that once again, I was in a T-shirt and panties. At least they were pink and solid this time. He braced me as I climbed out and then maneuvered me back out to the bedroom.

  “Want me to grab your bag so you can get out clean clothes?” Kestrel asked as soon as I was perched on the bed.

  Though I opened my mouth to respond, the sudden whine and scream of the drill in the bathroom filled the room. Holy crap, that was loud. Kestrel actually rolled his eyes and shook his head with the first real hint of a smile I’d seen since this damn odyssey began.

  With great exaggeration, he motioned to my bags and then to his clothes before he made a strangling motion at the bathroom and flipped it off.

  That shouldn’t have been funny.

  Nothing about this situation was humorous.

  Yet, I laughed. ’Cause that was the Kestrel who’d been driving me around for a few days and whose intensity appealed to me alongside his wry sense of humor. His expression sobered at my laugh, and I tried to wipe the smile from my face, not that I had a terrific amount of luck with that one.

  The whine of the drill climbed again, then cut off as Kestrel set the bags on the bed. I concentrated on collecting a change of clothes, clean panties, and still skipped the bras ’cause I wasn’t asking anyone to help with it, and as much better as my ankle was, my chest wasn’t. The cracked and bruised ribs protested nearly every movement.

  Hammering from the bathroom made me jump, but Kestrel just folded his arms and waited. A couple more whines of the drill followed by a couple of minutes of hammering, then Jasper reappeared in the doorway, covered in fine white dust. It coated his henley and his beard.

  “Gotta clean this up, then you can test it.”

  Kestrel rolled up the sleeves on his shirt and went into the bathroom. The water ran, then turned off. Jasper reappeared with the drill and the bag of tools I hadn’t seen before. He’d cleaned off his face. The bag went outside the door and then he went back.

  It was weird as fuck sitting on the bed while those two did whatever in there. The water came on a couple more times and then Jasper called, “Come give it a try.”

  In the bathroom, I found the new bars he’d installed. One on the wall right next to the shower, another fixed into the wall inside the shower, and a third one mounted to the edge of the tub. I could literally use it to climb over and hold my weight on my good arm without risking slipping.

  After putting my clothes down on the closed toilet, I used the first railing and climbed right in.

  “Perfect,” Jasper said. “Can you reach everything?”

  I nodded. “I tested that when you were gone.”

  “Okay, now you can shower. No more complaints.” Then he shoved Kestrel out and closed the door behind them.

  No more complaints.

  I flipped the closed door off, and at the same time, I looked around the shower. There was a small box in the corner with plastic sleeves in it. I dragged it out and pulled it up and over my splint. It had a little tape seal to tighten it closed. Not perfect, but it would do.

  I got out of the shirt and panties pretty easily, then dragged the curtain closed and turned on the water. This close, I was gonna get hit by that initial cold spray, but that would be good for my chest and my bruises.

  Wait…

  A slow grin pulled my lips wider. It would be great for them. Especially since they were letting me shower alone. I’d bet they had no idea how long my showers should or could be. They probably expected me to be a spoiled princess like Rome had called me that night.

  My lip curled. Still…I cranked the water on cold and hissed when the icy spray hit my chest. It was so cold, it almost made it hard to breathe.

  That was okay.

  Cold would help with the bruising. I could warm it up when I needed to wash.

  Thirty minutes of punishing cold was about all I could stand and I was fucking shivering, but I couldn’t feel the bruises anymore. I switched up the warm water and even tepid was warmer than what I’d been using. It took me time and some maneuvering, but I got my hair washed, rinsed, and conditioned. By the time I soaped everything and rinsed off, I was beat again.

  What a waste, but then again, I had more data than when I’d started.

  And more access.

  One step at a time, I reminded myself.

  I was going to get out of here one way or the other.

  Chapter 10

  Emersyn

  The next two days after Jasper fixed everything for my shower, I took to showering twice a day. They didn’t need to know it was for the cold and the fact that it did wonders for the bruising along my back and ribs. I did my damnedest to avoid being naked around any of my caretakers. Morning—or what I assumed was morning because I really had no idea—of the third day, I woke alone.

  Totally alone.

  When I first opened my eyes, I was curled on my side facing the chair where my current keeper would usually be seated. A single dim light remained on in the corner. It was the light Rome used when he sketched. Rubbing a hand against my face, I sat up slowly. The combination of cold showers in addition to the enforced rest had at least minimized the bruising effects I’d suffered. For that, I was going to be grateful.

  I tested my ankle as I stood. It was wrapped, but the sharpness when I put my weight on it was missing. Two steps, and it barely twinged. I pushed up on my toes and lifted my good leg, forcing all of my weight onto the bad.

  The strain was there. My muscles objected to the activity after being so disused. The ankle held though. Setting my foot down, I stretched my arms over my head. The pull on my chest and back ached, but I’d had worse. I stretched my arms behind me and clasped my hands as best I could before I bent. The crack of my spine popping and the scream of muscles protesting invigorated me.

  Step by step, I stretched until I was warmer and looser. The wrist was still problematic. I hated the damn splint. They hadn’t put me in a cast, so that had to mean something. At the same time, I hadn’t seen Doc since he helped me bathe. Apparently Jasper or “Hawk” as the others called him—what the hell kind of name was that?—had blocked him for some bizarre, possessive jerk reason.

  I wasn’t an idiot. I got that guys got crazy stupid about that stuff and he was warning off Freddie with very violent threats. The image of the gun Hawk had placed under Doc’s chin shivered through me, and I frowned. Had Jasper done something to make sure Doc didn’t come back?

  Fuck.

  And if he did, why?

  He wasn’t doing anything more than stare at me when he was in here. Well, except for the shower thing—and the dresser thing. My clothes weren’t in suitcases anymore. They’d hauled a dresser in here and put my stuff up.

  There was the book thing too. He’d brought me a stack. No television or phone or Internet, but I had books.

  Most of them were fantasy, a couple of spy thrillers, and at least one romance novel. They were well-thumbed too. Not new.

  Fine, Jasper had done more than stare. Still, they hadn’t told me anything about why I was here. Or what was going on, and when I tried to broach it with Vaughn, he changed the subject. The one time I brought it up with Kestrel, he’d just gone ice and shut me out.

  Yeah, so, there was that.

  I stared at the closed door.

  It was weird that no one was in here.

  I hadn’t woken up alone more than once since I’d woken up in this room. That one time, Rome had been in the bathroom. The flushing of the toilet was what told me someone was still here.

  Speaking of, I got fresh clothes out of the drawer and clean panties. I was down to my last two pairs. The laundry was stacked in the corner, so I supposed I could rinse some of the panties out and wash them in the
sink. I gave a little shudder. I could do it, but I’d rather actually wash my clothes.

  The day had gone from meh to worse. Not only had I woken up alone with no captor in sight, I woke up to my period. I should have done the math, I wasn’t expecting it though that would explain some of the soreness and discomfort. There was nothing in the way of supplies. So I rolled up toilet paper and made do after my shower.

  I would’ve killed for coffee. And some Midol. Maybe a heating pad.

  I could’ve gone for getting the fuck out of this room too. I’d been cooped up here for so long, I knew exactly how many cracks there were in the wall and that the painting I’d been staring at was not only painted directly on the wall and not on a framed canvas at all, but that it had the kind of depth and majesty that belonged in a museum.

  Sheer. Raw. Talent.

  I also wanted to go to the grotto depicted. It was beautiful. The only thing I couldn’t figure out was whether it was sunrise or sunset. And I’d genuinely thought it was a framed canvas. Ugh.

  Not even staring at it would relax me. I paced around the room. I’d picked up the books, thumbed through them, and put them back down a dozen times. I probably shouldn’t move so much, I was intimately aware of the toilet paper serving as my only barrier to staining another pair of panties. I had one pair soaking in the sink in the bathroom.

  A part of me couldn’t wait for one of the guys to see them. Hopefully, it grossed them out. Or something.

  Time dilated, or maybe it really was an hour later, but I’d had it. I wanted out of this room. No food. No people. No coffee. Just. Out. Of. This. Room.

  I stalked over to the door and raised my hand like I was going to knock, then hesitated. I hadn’t actually tried the handle, so I twisted it and it opened with a soft click.

  Shit.

  Now, I felt stupid for not having tried it earlier. The door opened, and I checked the room on the other side. It was dark. No lights on. The other door was six steps to my left.

  A shaft of light from my room cut across it and there was a shift of movement in the bed. I froze and then backed up slowly and turned off the light in here. Then I waited. The rustle of sheets ceased and regular, deep breathing filled the silence. There was just a touch of a snore.