Heroes 'Til Curfew (Talent Chronicles #2) (3 page)

I tripped and went down. It wasn’t a
brilliant attempt at escape; it was probably a concrete curb. The
first few times that had happened, Marco’s grip had kept me
upright. But this time he let me go and I went down hard on the
packed, gravelly earth so fast that I didn’t have time to try to
turn onto my shoulder. And of course I couldn’t put my hands out.
Fortunately the padding of the jacket saved my face from the worst
of it, but son of a
bitch
that really hurt. Plus it was hard
not to be humiliated, even though I knew that was the point of the
exercise.

I got a boot in the ribs, reflexively rolled
to my side and cringed away from it while I tried to catch my
breath. “Come on, Joss,” Jeff said, and the boot landed on my
shoulder, forcing it down to the ground and me onto my back. He
straddled me and dropped to his knees, landing hard on my pelvis
which was really gross, but better than if he’d had the sense to
sit on my chest or stomach where it would be harder to buck him
off. “This isn’t a rest home. What are you doing?”

A hand grabbed me under the armpit and
yanked hard. Only Marco would have had enough strength in one hand
to pull that hard and that fast, toppling Jeff back onto my legs as
I was dragged across the rocky dirt and back onto my feet. My
shoulder felt like it was going to tear right through my skin.

“Hey!”

“She was about to buck you off—”

“I might have liked that.”

“—and probably kick you in the teeth, you
moron,” Marco finished. “Let’s quit playing around and get
inside.”

I heard Jeff picking himself up and dusting
off as Marco dragged me along. Now that I knew they were taking me
“inside,” the river was starting to sound a lot more inviting. A
sudden wave of panic made my limbs feel watery and
uncoordinated.

This is really not the time to lose it. Man
up.

I stepped more carefully, picking up my feet
in case there were steps and finally felt concrete under my boots.
I dragged my foot and felt a layer of grit, but no debris. I didn’t
know if that told me anything. The wind had changed, so we were
definitely inside, but it seemed just as cold as it had been
outside. Or maybe that was just me.

“Tony, let’s get some light in here,” Marco
barked, letting go of me and leaving me unanchored and lost in
unfamiliar, dark space.

“Yeah.”

I felt heat rush past my head and the weird
disturbance it made as the air changed in the path of what I
assumed was a fireball. I couldn’t help but jump to the side, away
from it. And then of course it happened again on the other side. I
jumped again. Tony chuckled. A hand clamped down hard on my
shoulder and voice close to me said, “Don’t worry, Joss. You can’t
see me, but I can see you.”

I was jolted half out of my boots by a blast
of crappy music right behind me. Tony let me go and his jacket
moved against mine as he dug out his phone. Marco came back to
us.

“Your girlfriend didn’t want to come along
tonight, fine, but don’t let her keep you on the damn phone all
night. Hate that shit,” Marco added, to me, it seemed, as Tony’s
voice walked away from us. I ignored Tony’s conversation and Marco.
I was listening for the other people in the room, trying to get a
sense of where they were, maybe hear objects they were using that I
might use.

Marco spun me around, pulling me up on my
toes by the front of my jacket so that we were almost touching and
I was completely off-balance. “I’m really glad you found us
tonight, Joss. That rib Dylan cracked for me is just about all
fixed up now and I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately.” He
turned us fast, tangling my legs, and then shoved me backward. I
was falling through space, tucking my chin and bracing for the
cement landing. Instead I collapsed onto what felt like a couch. It
rocked backward with the impact, settled back on its feet, and a
cloud of cigarette and other reek puffed up from within it. I could
feel hard, scratchy upholstery, gunked by time and filth, against
the fingers that were trapped between the small of my back and the
cushions.

Marco straddled me, sat on my lap with his
knees on either side of my legs, and his hand closed over my
throat. Not squeezing, but just settling over the bare skin at the
edge of my t-shirt, maybe just to feel my pulse race. I kept trying
to breathe slowly, normally, and not give him the satisfaction of
knowing how much he was scaring me, how threatened I felt, how
helpless.

“You know,” he said, his thumb stroking up
and down my neck, “I don’t really understand what Dylan’s interest
ever was in you. Because I’ve been watching you guys at school and
clearly he’s just…not interested, right? I mean there you are,
hanging around with your sad, shy-girl thing, stealing the little
glances and all. And has Dylan made any kind of a move at all? Not
that I’ve seen. And trust me, that’s not a problem for my boy
Dylan.”

“He’s not your boy.”

“No, he’s not. Anymore. But he’s not yours
either, no matter how pathetically much you…what’s the word, pine?
No matter how much you pine after him. I thought he was into you, I
really did. But I guess he got over it. I wonder what you
did...”

This was the part where I was supposed to,
like, get all upset and tell Marco to shut up. Maybe cry or
something. Like I’d give him the satisfaction.
Wrong girl,
asshole.

“Of course, could be you’re too butch for
him. I can see how that would be a turn-off. But sweetheart,” he
said, leaning into me, “when we’re done here, when I’m done, when
my boys are done, there ain’t no way Dylan is ever going to want
whatever’s left of you.”

“All right, that’s it,” one of the girls
said so unexpectedly that we both jumped. “Marco, that’s just
nasty. I’m not hanging around for that.”

“So go. I don’t give a shit what you
do.”

“Bella, you coming?”

“I…” the other girl’s voice just trailed
off.

The first girl made a disgusted noise in her
throat. “Fine. I’m outta here.”

“Marco,” it was one of the guys, and since I
couldn’t place it, I figured it was Curtis, “I-I’m gonna walk Angie
home, er, if that’s okay.”

“Again, busy, don’t care.”

“Marco!” Tony called.

“WHAT?!” and now Marco’s hand did clamp hard
around my neck.

“Phone.”

“What the fuck, so she can whine at me about
keeping you out late? I’m not gonna deal with your skag for
you.”

“Shut up, man, it’s not her. Call
waiting.”

Something about the way Tony said that was
weird, meaningful, and it must have meant something to Marco
because he let go, got up off me, and walked away. I tried to take
a deep breath but it came as a series of jerks that wanted to turn
into hiccupping, hysterical sobs or something.
And that’s just
not happening. None of this is happening. Because you’re going to
focus, use your skills, use whatever weapons come to hand, and get
yourself out of this mess.
Period.

Marco must have been talking outside because
I couldn’t hear voices. I could sense that there were still people
in the room with me, even had a general idea where they were from
the little sounds they made as they shifted and waited. But no one
spoke.

Footsteps, brisk and definite, approached
across the concrete. I figured that was Marco and I braced, knowing
I was unable—at least right now—to stop him from getting hold of me
again. Someone passed quickly in front of him, intercepted, and I
heard Bella’s voice, again. “Marco, you don’t really—”

“I gotta go. Tony and I got somethin’ we
gotta go take care of.”

“Now?” Jeff asked.

“Yeah,
now
,” Marco snapped in that
did I stutter or did your ears flap?
tone. “Bella, I need
you up on the roof, watching over things until I get back.”

“But I want to go with you,” she whined.

“Well, you can’t. So do what I’m tellin’
ya.”

The couch bounced and sagged as Bella landed
beside me, and it was hard to keep myself from toppling onto
her.

“Fine,” she said, and then her body went
limp.

“The rest of you, whatever you do,
do
not
take that blindfold off, you got me?”

“Absolutely, boss,” Corey said with an
undertone of smartass.

“We’ll probably be about an hour, but the
real fun doesn’t start until we get back, is that clear? Jeff?”

“I hear you.”

“All right then. Later.”

“What do you think that’s all about?”
Nathan’s voice wanted to know. He was at a distance, in front of me
and to the left.

“Not your business, twerp,” Jeff snapped at
him. “Marco doesn’t like it when you ask a lot of questions.”

“I didn’t ask Marco.”

“Just shut up.”

Someone was pacing the floor in front of me,
sort of prowling, like a lion in a cage. By process of elimination,
it had to be Corey. Then he stopped and asked, “You got a good
camera on that fancy phone?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Nathan’s voice. “Why?”

“I’m thinkin’ it’s time for some artistic
photography.” He moved to my right and then he was shifting Bella’s
body. She slumped against my side and her head fell on my
shoulder.

“Maybe some artistic nudes? Ohhhh,
yeaaahhh,” Jeff drawled. I could hear him coming closer.

“Nathan, get over here.”

Nathan shuffled over slowly.
Reluctantly?
“Looks like crap, guys. The light’s just not
good enough over here.”

“Good point, kid. Let’s move some of these
lights.”

Apparently there’s nothing like a little
porn to spur Jeff to action.

Something twitched on the couch behind me
and I flinched away, thinking it might be a rodent. But Bella’s
hand wrapped around mine and squeezed. Her body still felt limp
against my side. Her fingers moved, like she was searching for
something. Then I felt the slight motions of her hand as she began
to poke at the tape that bound my wrists together. There was
resistance, tightening on the rubbery tape, and then the stab of
her long, sharp thumbnail that jabbed my arm when it couldn’t break
through and overshot. I bit my lip to keep from reacting and she
tried again.

Jeff came back up behind me and I arched my
back, giving Bella more room to work, pressing my shoulders into
the back of the couch to cover her movements. Which sucked because
it put my chest out on display for these cretins. Now that Bella
was on my side and I could see a way out, my head was clearing of
any panic I’d felt about these guys pawing at me. I was going to
get my hands back, get this blindfold off, and—

Jeff hands touched the skin of my throat,
lightly, sort of…caressingly.
Gross.
They moved up under
where the jacket hung down over my face and felt along my jaw-line.
I was really itching to break his fingers. “It’s too bad about this
blindfold thing. It’s gonna mess up the pictures.”

“Nah,” Corey said, moving Bella again, “it
adds to the artistic whatever—the whole bondage thing. It’ll be
hot.” He put her hand limp hand on my chest and I was sure she
could feel how hard my heart was beating.

“I’ve always thought of Joss as a
double-bagger anyway. That means,” Jeff added, in explanation to
me, “that you’re so fuckin’ ugly, that to keep from puking when I
was doin’ you, I’d not only put a bag over your head, but one over
mine, too. Just in case yours came off.”

Nathan snorted.

“Funny, huh? But no, man, I’m totally
serious.”

“I guess that’d be handy.” I drawled. “I
mean, likewise on the puke factor. But also it’d probably be a good
way to know you were there, doin’ your thing, ’cause otherwise I
might not notice.”

Nathan snickered.

“You think you’re funny?” Jeff squeezed my
jaw tight. “You think you’re a badass Nikita? What you are is
helpless. I could break your neck now.” He tried to yank my head to
the side, like how they always break necks in movies. But since he
wasn’t really trying to kill me, he didn’t try hard enough and
didn’t get too far. It felt like Bella was making progress on the
tape, but it seemed to be taking forever.

“Take it easy, Jeff. Remember what Marco
said,” Nathan warned.

“Would you quit sucking up for five minutes?
He’s not even here. And I
know
what he said, okay? Don’t you
worry about it. Now you,” Jeff told me, “should worry. Because when
Marco’s done and I get my turn, trust me, you are going to know
about it. And I am so going to enjoy making you cry.”

I was pulling my wrists as Bella worked and
suddenly I felt the tape break and my hands pop free of each other.
I didn’t think about waiting for the perfect moment. I just spun
around, bouncing up onto the couch on my knees and plowing my fist
across the back of it, grinning under my blindfold as it sunk into
Jeff’s stomach and sent him stumbling back, away from me.

Stupid, impulsive, emotional. I know.
Because then Corey was on me and already had my left arm in his
grip. I knew he’d be all over me in a moment, wrestling me down,
getting my both arms pinned before I could get the blindfold off.
My fist had already bounced back to my ear, and I was swinging it
around, pivoting my forearm like I was swinging a bat. I clubbed
Corey in the side of his head, smashing his ear. He howled as he
fell away.

I yanked off the blindfold. The air was
fresh and cold on my hot face, and I sucked in a big breath of it
before Jeff leapt over the back of the couch, hitting me at the
shoulders, taking us both to the floor. We landed hard, and though
I managed to keep my chin tucked and kept my head from smacking the
floor, Jeff’s heavy body landing on mine drove most of the air from
my lungs. I didn’t hesitate to bend one knee and get a boot planted
on the floor. I used the leverage, the strength in my lower body,
to roll and throw Jeff off before he could recover. I couldn’t
throw him far, the big Neanderthal, so I was at a good distance to
quickly reposition, bring my boot up, and swing the back of my heel
down on his head like a hammer.