Cheaters Anonymous (25 page)

“Untie her,” I ordered, forcing my knees to stop shaking so visibly.

He ignored me and smirked. They made it look so easy on the shows. Whatever was going in his mind, Brad was definitely not afraid of the gun. Maybe I should have brought a rifle. Wasn’t it ‘the bigger the better’ when firearms were concerned?

“I mean it, Brad. Untie her.”

He ignored me and took a step closer. I backed up but held the gun steady.

Shit!

“Let me ask you something, Julia. Have you ever shot a gun?”

“No time like the present.”

“Have you ever killed anyone?”

Of course not.

He didn’t wait for my answer. “I have.”

What?

If my knees had been filled with seeds or dried beans, they’d make the perfect maracas.

“I’m sorry, but you’re not going to pull that trigger, sweetheart.”

He took another step toward me. Less than three feet separated us. I couldn’t miss if I fired, yet there was no fear on Brad’s face – only a look of hatred and determination.

“I swear I will shoot,” I warned. But Brad didn’t stop this time. He continued walking until his chest was pressed against the barrel, pushing me backward. If there was a time to pull the trigger, it would be now. If I didn’t, I’d be the one who ended up on the other side of the barrel. Shutting my eyes I pressed my finger to the metal knob but nothing happened.

Fuck! The safety latch!

“Learn how to work one of these before you try to use it.” He grasped the gun and ripped it out of my hand. I swung my fist right into his face, wondering whether the crunching sound was his teeth or my knuckles. It did not look this painful when they did it on
CSI
. His head swung to the side and when he adjusted his jaw with his hand I realized that my punch did not have the force of knocking him out, the way I imagined. Before he came to, I stepped to the left, out of his way, looking for an escape. Brad had blocked the door, and there was no other way out.

“Scar!” I screamed. Now would be a good time for him to heroically jump in and save the day. But there was no other sound. “Have a seat, Julia. It’s going to be a long night.”

“Look, just let us go. Please.”

“Pleeaasseee,” he mocked. “You fucking pulled the trigger on me!”

I jumped up.

“I fucking said have a seat!”

My knees buckled underneath my body on their own, and my ass hit the chair with a thunk.

“Your boyfriend won’t save you. He’s got too much to lose.”

What did he mean by that?

He cocked his head to the side and regarded me for a moment. “You don’t know, do you? You don’t fucking know!” He belted out a laugh, and it echoed through the clinic. Brad had no fear that someone would hear him, and I wondered where Scar was.

“If Wagner crosses me, I will never sell the club. And I’ll make sure he eventually loses all the money he’s got. And if there’s one thing that Wagner loves more than the women he sleeps with, it’s his money.”

“What do you have to do with his club?” I asked.

He crouched in front of me. The stench was so strong, I could barely take it. That look of hate in his eyes was enough to burn a hole in my head.

“What? I own half of it.”

“You’re a liar.” I spat into his face.

The moment he swung his arm at me, I knew I was gone.

C
HAPTER
23

I wasn’t sure whether I was truly conscious until pain throbbed in my head. My wrists burned. The rope around them had cut through to my flesh. Something was tied around my eyes, robbing me of sight. I was lying back on what felt like a hospital bed. When I moved my arms, the clatter of metal bars at the side of the bed echoed. The room stank of old moisture, and I heard a moan of pain escape my mouth.

“There she is.” Brad’s voice was like acid.

At the sound of his footsteps coming closer, my entire body stiffened.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, removing my blindfold. It was difficult to open my eyes and get used to the single bulb light in the windowless room. We were in the basement now. Since the clinic had flooded years ago, it had that permanent smell of mold and mildew. And for someone who had just kidnapped me, I knew that Brad was full of shit.

“Where’s Trish?”

I wondered how long I’d been out. It must have been late, because on top of my aching body I felt tired. Could it really have been hours since I got here?

“Don’t worry. She’s alive – for now. I thought we might want some time to ourselves, so I had to make sure my guests were comfortable.”

For now?
The last thing I remembered was sitting on that chair watching Brad play with the hand gun I didn’t know how to use. I wished I’d had more time to practice. And where was Scar? What had happened to our plan? And what did Brad mean by “guests”?

“What are you talking about?”

“I knew you’d be honorable and come on your own, Julia. But I also knew that you’d have a backup plan, and that Scar wouldn’t let you go without him. You know, I really thought he’d leave you for me. I asked him to do so several times. I fucking offered him to buy me out with your pussy, and he refused.”

He shook his head, making a few
tsk
,
tsk
sounds.

“But of course he didn’t listen. You know, everything would be much simpler if people listened, don’t you agree? But no, Scar wanted to be a hero. I swear, he’d fucking give everything for a pussy, especially yours.”

“What have you done?”

“Did you know we made a bet of who’d get you first?”

He was lying.

“Tell me, Jules. Did he get to your wet pussy before me?”

I could feel my eyes give way to the tears.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so. I thought you’d put out quicker. Don’t worry, once I get what I’ve been wanting for the last decade, I’ll let you go, you can rescue your boyfriend, and we’ll call me the winner of our bet. But if he tries to move and save you, he’ll be torn to shreds.” Brad reached for a remote and turned on a television set. It was so dark in the room I hadn’t even seen the TV until it flicked on.

I gasped.

Tied to a chair, Scar sat with his head lowered. His body was sagging, and he didn’t look conscious. Red canisters of what looked like gasoline surrounded him. His chair was a bit higher than the floor, resting on a platform. How had we gotten into this mess? I should have called the authorities.

“He can try to get off the weight trigger. But there won’t be much left of him if he does. Or he can be the pussy I know he is and wait until you get there and turn off the switch by the door – right after I fuck you.” He laughed. “Either way, your boyfriend loses.”

I thrashed in the bed wishing I could do something – anything.

“This is not a fucking game, Brad. You will not get away with this.”

“I already have.” He came to the bedside and brought his face close to mine. “I will fuck your brains out the way I was supposed to in high school, I will win my bet with Scar – and only then, if you’re able to walk, will I let you go.”

Scar wouldn’t have made a bet on me. He’d never do that. Brad was not only delusional but also suffered from schizophrenia.

And then Scar shifted on his chair.

Don’t move!

He lifted his head enough for me to see the damage that had been done. His eyes were swollen, and his nose was mangled as if someone had smashed it in with a hammer. Scar looked like he’d had red paint dumped over his head, except I knew that this time it wasn’t paint but blood.

“I need to help him. He needs medical attention.” Tears streaked freely down my cheeks. How could I not cry? The only man who’d ever made me feel alive was helpless. And so was I. There was only one thing I could do, and I prayed Brad would do it quickly. Feeling hatred burn my eyes, I looked at my captor, whispering, “Get it over with and let me go. I’ll do whatever you want.”

Scar’s face twisted in pain as he looked right into the camera, barely able to open his eyes. And that’s when I realized that he could see me. There had to be a television in his room. He could see us and whatever Brad was going to do to me; he’d made sure that Scar would witness every second of it.

“Don’t, Jules. Not for me.” His voice was hoarse, as if his vocal chords had been tightened by something.

“She doesn’t get to have a choice, you asshole.” Brad’s face was right in the camera’s lens.

“You sick fuck,” I said.

But Brad wasn’t paying attention to my words. He appeared to be in some sort of a trance. His face was emotionless and determined. I could see the devil’s fire spark in his eyes. What else could it be? When he backed away, he unbuckled his pants and lowered them to the ground. Then off came his briefs. No erection had ever disgusted me as much as Brad’s. I shut my eyes. How could he even get excited by forcing me to be with him?

“Scar, close your eyes, please,” I begged. “I’ll be there soon. Just close your eyes and don’t watch.”

“Nooooo!” he screamed. I could tell it took all of his strength not to get off his chair. The desperation in his voice pained my heart.

Brad came closer and rested his cock on my shoulder. The foul smell squeezed my stomach, and I felt the bile slowly rise up. I turned my head to the other side and shut my eyes.

“Be a good girl now.” He tapped himself over my cheek, slapping me there as if it was something he thought I’d enjoy. I wanted to throw up.

“Call it what you want. I’m just catching up on lost time, Julia. You know all this could have been avoided if you’d just put out for my birthday.”

I opened my eyes to have one last look at Scar. A bright light flashed on the screen before it turned to static gray… and Scar was gone. The sound of a bomb exploding hit me like an avalanche. The building shook as if we’d just had an earthquake, and I realized that Scar was being held captive nearby.

“Scaarr! Nooo! Please, noh... oohh,” I sobbed.

“Too late. Maybe he wasn’t such a pussy after all. You should think of a quote for his gravestone. ‘Scar Wagner: Not a pussy.’ Although I must say, there won’t be much of him left. Unless you want to scrape the walls.”

“Shut the fuck up! Just shut up and get it over with, will you?”

And then please kill me, because I cannot live without Scar.

Brad’s phone vibrated. He frowned at the caller display and pressed the speaker on. His other hand kept busy as he stroked himself back and forth. I wiggled my hands, hoping I could free myself.

“Brad, honey, open the door please.” I heard Trish’s voice through both the phone and on the other side of the metal door. She knocked gently. He threw the phone down to the table, and with his naked hairy ass on display, he walked toward the door.

“I’m busy now. What do you want?” he shouted. “Go back to your boyfriend.”

Had he let Trish go? And she came back for me?

If so, I prayed she had the sound mind to call the cops.

“I just want to talk. You know, I remember you saying something about the three of us enjoying each other. Wouldn’t that be nice, Brad?”

She was stalling. Trish was buying me time. Why didn’t she just run?

“You said I was obsessed. I’m not.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know what I was saying. I was misinformed. I don’t like seeing you upset, Brad. I want to make you happy. I love you, and I want us back to where we were. I need you, Brad. I’ll do whatever you want.”

His gaze flew from me to the door as he pondered her offer.

“Anything?” he asked.

“Of course. Open the door, Brad. I’m here for you… and for us.”

Before Brad turned the door knob, he looked at me and loud whispered. “I guess it will be a party for three after all.” He tied a gag around my mouth before adding, “Except not the kind Trish thinks. The bitch will get what she deserves as well.”

Oh no! He set Trish up!

C
HAPTER
24

As soon as the door opened Brad’s demeanor changed.

“You watch her, and I’ll grab a few props. Do not fucking move!”

Trish stood frozen in the same spot until he left the room. Then she ran up to me and pulled the cloth off my mouth.

“It’s a trick, Trish. He killed Scar. He wants...”

“Shh, I know. Don’t worry. Just play along. I will flip this bed down when it’s time.” She paused for a moment. “It will probably hurt, but help is on its way.” Before I could say anything else, she covered my mouth again – and just in time, because Brad was back with another chair and a bag full of god knows what.

“Sit,” he told her.

“Brad, wouldn’t you want to find a more comfortable spot?”

His demeaning look was enough for Trish to bend at her knees and sit where he was still pointing. When he turned around, she looked at me and mouthed “One minute,” and I nodded in understanding.

The next sixty seconds felt like an hour. Brad removed his shirt and removed a pair of handcuffs from the bag he carried into the room. “Put your hands back,” he ordered Trish.

“Is that necessary?” she asked. As strong a woman that she was, I was sure that not even Wonder Woman could find the courage to stand up to this bastard.

As he stepped toward her, she yelled out, “Now!” The room went dark. I felt my bed flying to the side. It hit the floor and I was face down on the cold ceramic. Tear gas filled the room, and I began choking. I wanted to yell out, but I couldn’t. The noise and commotion, along with a few gun shots, blended into a constant din in my ears. Soon enough my hands were freed, and I was being carried out in someone’s strong arms. They felt familiar, and his shape reminded me of Scar’s, but that was impossible. My boyfriend was dead. When we reached daylight, I covered my eyes. It was already morning.

Once my sight adjusted and I was lowered to the ground, a familiar voice said, “You’re safe now, Jules.”

“Ace?” I felt my body shake. It was then that I realized how much alike the two brothers were. Not only their voice and physique, but also their eyes.