Return to Me (17 page)

Her eyes felt heavy in her head, while the rest of her body felt as if it were floating above her. She mumbled, “Sleep,” then unconsciousness claimed her.

More than a decade had passed since Noah felt consumed with a killing rage. He’d learned to harness his anger, focus the energy and pain where it would do the most good. Self-discipline and control kept him sane and alive for years. All of that was gone. Mitchell would pay. For what he’d done to Samara. The young girls he’d abducted. For Rebecca. And countless other women over the years.

When Noah had started on this mission, his plans had been very specific. First, he would rescue the victims, and second, he would bring his brother to justice. Justice had meant prison. Lawful, just and right.

Now, despite the knowledge that taking his brother’s life might well destroy his remaining humanity, Noah could no longer deny the very real possibility that Mitchell Stoddard would finally meet his maker and that his brother, Michael, would be the perpetrator of that act.

As Samara slept, Noah sat beside her, watching the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed and thanking God that she could. He’d known she was gutsy and strong, but what she’d been through and surviving it with her sanity intact spoke volumes about the steeliness of her backbone. The term
steel magnolia
was a fitting description for this beautiful, gutsy woman.

Though he hated to leave her, he needed to find Mitchell and get more information. The man Justin Kelly, who’d joined Mitchell’s band of thugs to find his sister, had told them the truckload of teen girls would arrive here and then be transported for shipping somewhere along the coast.

His people wouldn’t move until the truck arrived. If the bastards bringing the girls suspected a problem, there was no telling what they’d do to their victims. Until then, he would play the sleazy, lowlife, perverted man Mitchell expected.

Refusing to acknowledge his exhaustion, Noah pushed himself to his feet. He needed to get going before his brother showed up at this cabin. The last thing he wanted was Mitch to see his hostage sleeping peacefully or that her physical injuries had been treated. He was supposed to be in here raping her, not helping her.

With one last look at Samara, Noah walked out the door. On the porch, he jerked to a halt. Mitchell was just getting out of a truck. Two young girls, bruised, handcuffed, and barely dressed, were lifted from the backseat. Ashley Mason and Courtney Nixon.
Damn!

Disgust knotting his stomach, Noah swaggered down the steps and headed toward the group. “Whatcha got there?”

Noah clenched his fist to keep from knocking the sly, evil grin off Mitch’s face.

“This here’s my new business.” He turned toward the two men holding the terrified young girls. “Take ’em inside. Give ’em some water and something to eat. Let ’em clean up a bit, too. We don’t want Mr. Bennett to think we’ve been mistreating his property.”

After giving them an expected leering once-over, Noah ignored the girls. There wasn’t a damn thing he could do for them right now. Soon, but not yet. He smirked at Mitchell. “Looks like you definitely got something going, man. You going to cut me in?”

“Maybe.” Mitchell headed toward his cabin, assuming Noah would follow. Halfway there, he stopped and turned. “How’s that little treat I gave you doing?”

Noah snorted with disgust. “I barely got started when she passed out again. When’s the last time you fed her.”

“I wasn’t planning on keeping her around that long. Didn’t see the need to waste good food.”

“Well, I like them to be at least halfway conscious.”

Mitch chuckled and started walking to his cabin again. “You sound like Daddy. Come on in and let’s have dinner. Maybe I’ll even find something for your new play pretty.”

Noah had to force his legs to move. Good thing Mitch’s back was turned or he would have seen his brother’s face and known the truth. To be compared to his father in any way, shape, or form was an anathema.

The cabin wreaked with the stench of old fish, stale sweat, blood, and greasy barbecue. Noah’s stomach took another revolting tumble.

Opening a sack, Mitch pulled out a tinfoil-covered pan. “Remember these? Joe Pa’s ribs? Member how Daddy would bring them home sometimes on Saturday?”

Noah nodded but didn’t bother to mention that the ribs had always been purchased the night before and that dear old Dad would sling the half gnawed-on ribs onto the breakfast table before he staggered to the bedroom to sleep off another drunken night. Mitch always tore into them as if eating cold half-eaten barbecue ribs for breakfast was the ultimate dining experience.

While Mitch devoured his meal, Noah sat at the table, his eyes searching for something he could take back to Samara. Spying some packaged peanut butter and crackers, along with a couple of bottles of apple juice and water, he got up and grabbed them. Mitch was too involved in his feast to notice.

Knowing he’d be questioned if he didn’t at least eat something, he pulled a couple of ribs from the rack. Spooning out some potato salad and beans onto his plate, he sat down and forced the food into his mouth.

“Good stuff, huh?”

Noah grunted and ate.

“Bet you’re dying to know about those girls.”

Lifting a shoulder in a careless shrug, Noah took a swallow of his warm beer. “Only if it involves money.”

Mitch stopped in the middle of licking sauce from his fingers and flashed a greasy grin. “It always involves money, bro.”

Unable to swallow anything else, Noah shoved his plate away. “So, tell me about this venture.”

Wiping his face and hands on a paper towel, Mitch took a long gulp of beer and belched. “It was actually my idea. … That’s why I got to be in charge. Those two girls you saw, we lured them from the Internet. Told ’em we were jocks from another school. Used real names and everything. We arranged a meeting place and then, whammo, they’re ours.”

“Damn.” Knowing it was expected, his voice revealed his deep esteem and admiration for such a novel idea. “So what are you going to do with them?”

“That’s the beauty. We got fourteen girls already. … I’m waiting for number fifteen to come in any day now.” He winked. “You know fifteen was always my lucky number.”

Blood seeped from the hand Noah pressed into the edge of the table. He could feel it dripping from him and didn’t bother to stop it. No one would notice another puddle of blood on the floor. Mitch’s sly teasing that Rebecca had been fifteen when Mitch raped her was a taunting reminder to Noah. His brother felt no remorse for the act or for the fact that Noah had gone to prison for the crime.

To discuss Mitch’s remark would only invite a discussion that would solve nothing other than the possibility of Noah revealing his real feelings. Just to show that the taunt hadn’t gone unnoticed, Noah managed a mocking nod and waited for Mitch to continue.

Though he looked slightly disappointed that Noah hadn’t taken the bait, he continued to describe his operation of abducting teen girls. “Anyway, we’ll bring ’em all here and load ’em all on one truck. Then we’ll take them to a warehouse in Biloxi. My boss, Mr. Bennett, examines the merchandise. If he’s pleased—and I plan to make sure he is—we get paid.”

“What happens to the girls?”

Mitch blinked, obviously surprised at such an off-the-wall question. “I don’t know. … They get shipped out somewhere. Most likely to Thailand this time.”

“This time?”

“Yeah, this’ll be the third group we’ve gathered.” He grinned like a kid who’d just aced his math test. “We’ve brought in some of the most prime teen ass this country has to offer.”

Shit. Shit. Shit
. LCR was hell and away behind on this. He’d actually thought this was Bennett’s first attempt at this type of abduction. How had he missed so many other young girls disappearing in a similar fashion? Noah and his people had their work cut out for them. Not only would they rescue these girls, but would do their damnedest to find the others.

“Where’d the other ones go?”

“Huh?” Mitch paused in picking his teeth. “Oh, uh. Hell, I don’t know … Mexico and Brazil, I think.”

“That’s a really cool idea, but aren’t you afraid that after a while the cops are going to catch on. Taking that many girls, using the ruse that you’re a high school jock is—”

“Naw, this was the first time we used the school jock thing. Last time we just prowled a couple of websites that kids like to go to. Only got five that way, though. Bastards decided to start asking for more information before they’d let us chat.” He said the last part as if insulted he hadn’t been trusted.

Nodding as if this was another inventive and brilliant idea, Noah leaned back into his chair and allowed his brother to gloat. Listening to Mitch was much easier when he knew that every ounce of information he gained would be used against him very soon.

“The first time was just kind of an experiment. We went to teen hangouts. Malls … shit like that. Ended up with three girls and even a few boys.” He grinned at that. “We’re an equal opportunity organization.”

“Teen boys?” That was a new bit of information.

“Yeah. You’d be amazed what some perverts will pay for a fresh piece of young male ass.”

Mitch calling someone else a pervert was pretty damn scary. Few people were more perverted than his brother.

“Stalking the malls got damn dangerous, though. Never know where cameras might be. This way … nobody knows.”

“You got some major balls, bro.”

Mitch flashed another slimy grin at his brother’s obvious admiration. “Yeah. Boss is going to shit when he sees how many I got him. Man’s going to be mighty pleased with me.”

Noah forced another admiring glance.

“And we’d be doing another truckload if it wasn’t for that idiot ‘do good’ group that’s after us now.”

“Who’s that?” Already knowing and relishing the disgust on his brother’s face.

“Called Last Chance Rescue. Ever heard of them?”

“Don’t think so. What’d they do?”

“Caused a shitload of problems. Last year, they shut down four of the boss’s businesses.”

“And they’re after him again?”

“Yeah. That’s why I wanted to get something from that bitch I gave you. She’s involved with them.”

“How do you know that? Thought you said she wouldn’t tell you anything.”

“She didn’t. But my men heard her call out ‘Noah’ right before they grabbed her.”

“So?”

“Noah McCall’s the head of the group. He’s somehow tracked us down. Now we’re going to have to come up with another plan.”

“Got any ideas?”

“Not yet. When I get the merchandise to Mr. Bennett, we’ll sit down and have a planning session.”

Just like any successful business would. Hell, the freaks probably had a five-year plan and a vision statement, too.

Noah leaned forward with all the eagerness of a lowlife sleazeball. “So, how can I get in on this? Sounds like you already have almost all the girls you’re going to get.”

“Yeah, but I need another man. One of mine got a real bad headache a few hours ago.” Mitch’s small, mean smile indicated the headache wasn’t one the man would ever recover from.

“Okay, I’ll stick around. Then what?”

“We take the shipment to Bennett. I’ll introduce you. You got an impressive record. I’m bettin’ he’ll give you a job.”

Noah stood. He was pretty sure he’d gotten all he could out of Mitch for the time being. Now he just wanted to go back to Samara and reassure himself she was truly all right.

He gathered the small amount of food he’d collected for her. “Thanks for the meal, man, but I gotta go feed my new little playmate. She’s going to need the strength.”

Noah walked out the door on Mitch’s guffaw. Not for the first time, Noah wished for a way to withdraw the tainted blood from his body. Having Mitch and his father’s genes and blood inside him sickened him to the point of nausea. He’d come to terms years ago with the knowledge that no matter what he did, his DNA was contaminated. No matter what he did. How many he saved. He could never change that.

  For the next two days, Samara drifted in and out of consciousness. Exhaustion and trauma had taken a toll. Only able to keep her eyes open for a few minutes at a time, every time they did open, Noah was beside her. She took comfort in the sight. Funny that his brother, identical in looks, could send chills of revulsion down her spine and the only chills Noah gave her were of delight.

Her mind skittered away from thinking about what had happened. Noah was full of questions. She could see them in his eyes. He didn’t want to push her into talking. At some point she’d have to tell him. For right now she just wanted to rest and not think about it.

She hoped for the best for the girls who’d escaped. Noah hadn’t mentioned them again. He went out several times during the day and night, but always returned quickly. Each time he left, he gave her his gun, his instructions simple but explicit. “Shoot to kill.” Then he would give her that searching, concerned look that warmed her and sent alarm through her at the same time.

She knew he was worried about her, for her. At some point, she would come out of this lassitude and talk, but not yet. She closed her eyes and drifted away. It wasn’t time.

A gentle hand caressing her hair brought her eyes open. She blinked sleepily and smiled.

“You feel up to talking?”

Her eyes flittered away from the intense stare as her heart rate zoomed. No, she wasn’t ready. Wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready. Postponing it as long as she could, she grimaced down at the T-shirt and shorts Noah had given her, which she’d been wearing for two days. “What I’d really like is a bath and some fresh clothes.”

He stared silently for a few seconds and then nodded. “I’ll go run the water for you. I’ve scrubbed the tub several times … so it should be clean enough.”

She watched him walk away and sighed. Admittedly, a small reprieve, but perhaps getting cleaned up and refreshed would make her feel more ready.

Noah returned and scooped her into his arms, startling her. “I can walk.”

“You’re still weak and your feet are too sore.” Carrying her into the bathroom, he sat her on the closed lid of the toilet. “Do you need help bathing?”