Chapter 10: Try - The Broken Road

I woke with the worst hangover ever. I groaned miserably. Then I ran my tongue over my teeth. My mouth was dry and sticky. I tried to remember how I’d come to be in such sorry shape. My eyes flew open as the fog cleared. I bolted upright, twisting my shoulder sharply. Pain shot through my shoulder, forcing another moan from my parched throat. I looked around in shock. My right arm was handcuffed to a very large bed.

“Well, it’s about time,” a deeply timbered voice rumbled from across the room.

My eyes widened with recognition, then narrowed at the man sitting across the dimly lit room. “You…” My voice cracked as I tried to speak. “You asshole. Have you completely lost your mind?”

“Maybe,” he responded thoughtfully, as if he considered it a valid claim.

“I have to pee.” I was not lying. I really had to go, so bad, in fact, that it was literally the only thing I could think about at that moment. Then all thoughts of my physical discomfort disappeared as a flood of memories pressed in on me… my slashed tires, the car ride with Habib, Abdul, Diwa, the airport, the guns, and the vial. I suddenly realized that I had a lot more important things to be worried about than peeing my pants. “How long have I been out?”

“You’ve been out for nine hours. I’ll take you to the bathroom but don’t try anything. You do and you will not live to regret it.”

I silently studied him. This was a man who clearly was not firing on all four cylinders. “Fine,” I gritted out.

He unfolded himself from the chair and approached the bed. He unlocked the handcuff that was attached to a thick wooden spindle in the headboard, leaving the other half of the handcuff attached to my wrist. The bed was a massive hand peeled log bed... the kind you find all over Montana but not in DC.

I inhaled deeply. I could smell pine trees and a wood burning stove.

He slipped the handcuff over his left wrist, snapping it closed. Nope, not going anywhere anytime soon.

“Get up,” he growled.

I tried to stand as he stepped back, but my legs buckled.

He caught me with his free hand, then pulled me roughly against the side of his body, once again twisting my right arm.

I would have cried out in pain, but I panicked at the feel of his body pressed against mine. I struggled against him as I attempted to put some distance between the two of us.

He tightened his hold, giving me no option but to shuffle alongside him to the bathroom while firmly pinned to his side. He released me when we got to the bathroom. “Okay. Go.”

“What?” I squeaked. “You cannot be serious. I am not peeing in front of you.” What is it with men? Why do they all seem to think that peeing is a spectator sport?

His eyes narrowed. “You are if you want to pee,” he responded testily. His voice left no room for argument.

My eyes narrowed with equal disdain. I silently considered how much longer I could hold out before I actually wet myself. Exasperated, I finally relented. “You are such an ass! Fine! Turn around.” This was beyond embarrassing. I did not like peeing in front of anyone.

With a cruel smile, he turned his back to me.

I tried to pee as quietly as I could… as if peeing quietly was even possible… but he was standing right in front of me. I closed my eyes and tried to pretend he wasn’t there. When I finally finished… God only knew when I was going to get another chance to pee again… I wiggled my jeans back up and fastened them with one hand. I walked to the sink and washed my hands, irritably dragging his hand into the water along with mine.

My eyes landed on a toothbrush. I ran my tongue over my teeth again. My mouth tasted like dirty socks… or what I imagined dirty socks would taste like, since I didn’t have any real world experience chewing on them. “Is that your toothbrush?”

“No, it’s yours,” he grumbled.

Seriously? The guy makes me drink poison, then buys me a toothbrush? I shook my head. My eyes met his in the mirror. A chill ran down my spine as I noted the coldness in his eyes. I reached for the toothbrush and quickly brushed my teeth. It wasn’t easy with my left hand.

He led me back to the bed and refastened the handcuff to the headboard. His eyes darkened as he stood towering over me.

I began to panic as his eyes raked over my body. God, please don’t let him touch me.

He reached for me as his eyes settled on the hair that had fallen over my face.

I froze. My heart beat once, then also froze. The air between us grew thick with tension.

His hand hovered over my face as his eyes flitted to mine. His jaw clenched. We stayed like that… eyes locked… frozen in place… for what felt like an eternity. Then he silently turned and walked away.

I pulled against the handcuff as I scrambled off the bed. “Wait! Where are you going? What… what are you going to do to me?” I stilled as I waited for a response.

No answer.

The silence was chilling. I fell back against the pillows as I attempted to answer my own question. He won’t hurt me, I reasoned. If he wanted me dead, he would have killed me by now. I turned the thought around in my head. What if he regretted his decision to kidnap me? Would he kill me or let me go? My pulse ratcheted up a few notches.

My eyes searched frantically for something… anything that would help me escape. I pulled the handcuff hard, testing the strength of the spindle. I pushed and pulled against the spindle with my free hand. It was solid, too thick to break. My eyes settled on the only window in the room. I couldn’t see a thing. I had been out for nine hours, and it was still dark outside? Where am I?

* * *

“Where is she?” Kadyn asked as he paced across his living room floor. He glanced irritably at Mason, Roger, and Cenia. Kadyn’s phone vibrated before anyone could respond. He ripped the phone from his pocket, glanced at the Caller ID, then switched over to speaker as he answered the phone. “Dan, what do you got?”

“I tracked down her scumbag ex-husband. He’s at home in bed with some woman who is definitely not Kri.”

“And Garcia?” Kadyn asked. He watched Cenia usher Matt into the apartment.

“I’m still trying to track him down. I’m calling because it looks like we may have another suspect.”

Kadyn groaned. “Who?”

“Someone she used to work with, here in Montana. A guy named Justin Morris. Kimme tells me he had a thing for Kri. He sexually assaulted her twice, attempted to see her in DC, then tried to pay for her flight back to Montana when you guys came back to see the cousin. The guy hasn’t been to work for the past two days. No one knows where he’s at.”

“Unbelievable,” Kadyn grumbled.

“No shit,” Dan agreed.

“I don’t think it’s Garcia,” Kadyn mused as he resumed pacing across the living room.

“Why’s that?”

“The guy who took her doesn’t have an accent. Isn’t Garcia from Portugal?”

“Yeah. He’s from Portugal, but he primarily speaks French. How do you know the guy who has her doesn’t have an accent?”

“I don’t. Not for sure. The guy abducted a cab driver’s sister, then held her hostage until the cab driver delivered Kri in exchange for the sister. According to the cab driver, the man didn’t have an accent, although he did claim to be her fiancé.”

“The guy he turned her over to may not be the one who’s orchestrating all of this,” Dan speculated.

“True,” Kadyn agreed.

“Okay. I’m sticking with my original plan, then. I’ll keep looking for Garcia and Morris.”

Kadyn eyed Matt as he opened the refrigerator. “Sounds good. The cab driver took Kri to a small executive airport, so I'm trying to locate the plane and their flight plan.”

“Aircraft would be your area of expertise,” Dan mused.

“And skip tracing is yours. Track down those men, sailor,” Kadyn responded before ending the call. He turned his attention to Matt, who was helping himself to leftover pizza. “What did you learn from your friends at the airport?”

Matt slid the pizza into the microwave. “A Cessna 510 left Leesburg Airport at one o’clock this morning. The plane was destined for Minneapolis, but I don’t believe that was their final destination. They were probably just refueling the aircraft. Phil’s trying to secure the flight plan so he can find out where the plane went from Minneapolis. No other aircraft departed the Leesburg Airport until after five a.m. this morning, so we think the Cessna is our plane.”

“A Cessna 510. That’s a small business jet,” Kadyn noted. He slid into a chair at the breakfast bar. “Any idea where the aircraft originated from?”

Matt pulled the pizza from the microwave. He grabbed a piece, then shoved the box across the counter toward Kadyn. “Yes. The Cessna flew in from Helena, Montana two nights ago. The plane was parked at the airport until it departed this morning,” he mumbled around a mouthful of pizza.

Kadyn grabbed a piece of pizza. “Any idea who owns the plane?”

Matt nodded. “Some exclusive outfitting business outside of Helena. They fly VIPs in and out of Montana for big game hunting. Phil’s trying to track down the business owners so he can determine whether any of their pilots are listed on the flight plan or if someone else leased the plane.”

Kadyn texted Dan with the additional information before surveying his friends. “Can you secure leave, or do you have to report to work today?”

“I can take leave,” Cenia responded.

“Me, too,” Roger and Mason replied at the same time.

“My schedule is flexible,” Matt confirmed.

“Good,” Kadyn murmured. He glanced at an incoming text from Dan. “Looks like one of the suspects out of Montana has a pilot’s license.”

Everyone gathered around Kadyn.

“Who?” Mason asked.

“The coworker, Justin Morris,” Kadyn responded. He scrolled through the list of contacts on his cell phone.

Phil picked up on the first ring. “Talk to me.”

“Anything on the Cessna 510?” Kadyn asked.

“Nothing yet. There are a lot of flights in and out of Minneapolis, and a number of them are Cessna 510’s,” Phil explained apologetically. “Don’t worry, I’ll find it.”

“Any idea who the pilot was on the flight out of Leesburg?”

“Not yet. I’m still waiting for the airport to e-mail me the flight plan. Any name in particular that we’re looking for?”

“Either Justin Morris or Michael Garcia,” Kadyn responded.

“Okay. I’m on it.”

“Thanks, Phil. I’ll let you know if I learn anything new,” Kadyn replied before ending the call. He sighed heavily as he turned toward his friends. “I really appreciate everything you’ve done to help this morning, but you might as well go to work. This could take a while, and we shouldn’t be burning leave time we may need later. Why don’t we meet back here tonight after work? I’ll text you if anything comes up before then.”

Everyone reluctantly agreed before trickling out of the apartment.

Kadyn collapsed on the couch. He retraced every step as he tried to identify new strategies for finding Kri. Exhaustion stole over him as he sat there. He closed his eyes. Just a few minutes of sleep. That’s all I need.

* * *

I hadn’t a clue how long I’d slept. One minute I was sitting in the dark thinking about how to get my arm loose, and the next minute I was waking up in a sun drenched room. I breathed a sigh of relief when I discovered I was alone. My eyes locked on the window, which framed pine trees heavily blanketed in snow.

A loud crash drew my attention away from the window. Something… no someone… was banging around in another room. Heavy footsteps echoed down the hall before his large frame filled the doorway to my room.

“Hungry?” he asked.

“Yes,” I admitted grudgingly. I was hungry, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to eat anything he prepared. I was worried he might try to drug me again. My stomach growled, urging me to throw caution to the wind.

The doorway was empty once again. I glanced around in confusion. Now where did he go?

He suddenly reappeared, this time with a tray of food. Tendrils of steam rose from the bowl on the tray.

I scooted back against the pillows as I sat up in bed. My right arm was still sore where it had been injured earlier.

He strode toward the bed, then stopped abruptly. He narrowed his eyes at me as he pulled the tray against his chest. “Don’t try anything funny.” Shockingly, he didn’t trust me.

I pasted a sincere look onto my face. “I won’t. I’m hungry. I just want to eat.” That wasn’t entirely true, but I wasn’t an idiot. I knew it was what he wanted to hear. I glanced down at my clothes and my stocking feet as I contemplated my options. No shoes. I shivered, recalling the snow I’d seen outside the window.

He closed the distance between us and set the tray on my lap. He backed up two steps, shoved his hands in his pockets, and stared at me.

I raised one eyebrow and my right arm, sliding the handcuff up the spindle as high as it would go. “I can’t eat with my left hand.”

“Sure you can,” he responded smugly. He turned and walked out of the room.

I studied the steaming bowl of oatmeal. I would have thrown it in his face, had he released my hand. The rational side of me knew that pissing him off and trying to run away barefoot in the snow was a ridiculous plan; but deep inside I knew that the dangers I’d face outside were nothing compared to what lie ahead with this delusional man. He was being nice now, but how long would that last?

My stomach rumbled. I sniffed the oatmeal, took a bite, and prayed it wasn’t drugged. The oatmeal tasted like cinnamon and brown sugar. Nothing tasted out of place, so I ate a few more bites. I took a sip of orange juice and winced as my stomach turned. I shoved the tray aside.

I fell back against the pillows as I pondered my predicament. How much time had passed? Had Kadyn discovered that I was gone? Who was taking care of Cade? How was I going to get away when I didn’t even know where I was? The questions and concerns circled around me like vultures slowly picking apart my brain. I needed answers, and I wasn’t likely to get them if I was lying around in bed. I sat up and stared at the doorway. “Hey! Are you out there? I need to use the bathroom!”

He approached the doorway, folded his arms across his chest, and studied me.

I steeled myself for an argument. “Look. This isn’t going to work. You can’t keep me chained up all day and night. I need to use the bathroom. I need to move around at least a little bit, and I really need a shower.”

He muttered something unintelligible as he approached the bed. He unlocked the handcuff, grabbed my wrist, and yanked me out of bed, once again wrenching my arm.

The pain brought tears to my eyes. Still, I refused to cower. I stared at him defiantly as I rose to my full height.

“You’ve got fifteen minutes to use the bathroom and the shower. If you aren’t done in fifteen minutes, then I'm coming in.” He shoved me toward the bedroom door.

I stumbled toward the bathroom. I went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and showered in record time. Sadly, the bathroom didn’t have any windows.

I was wrapping a thick white towel around me when the bathroom door swung opened. His large frame quickly filled the small space.

I pulled the towel tight. I was painfully aware of the fact that the towel was the only thing standing between me and the man who wanted me desperately enough to kidnap Diwa.

His eyes raked over my half-naked body. He shoved a small bundle of clothes at me. “I brought you clean clothes.”

I reached for the clothes while clutching the towel against my chest. As the bundle unraveled, I examined it in shock. “A sun dress? There’s snow outside.”

He crossed his arms stubbornly. “So?”

I gave him a look that ensured he knew that I knew he was bat shit crazy. “So… I guess I’m wearing a sun dress. There are no panties?”

He smiled maliciously as he snatched up my dirty clothes. “Your powers of observation never cease to amaze me.” And, with that snide comment, he turned and walked out the door.

I had no choice but to wear a sun dress with no bra and no underwear. “This sucks,” I complained miserably. I slipped the soft yellow dress over my head and stepped tentatively from the bathroom. I was barefoot and still finger-combing my hair.

He grabbed my shoulders and pinned me against the wall. “You make one wrong move and I’ll handcuff you naked to that bed.” He pressed his body against mine, proving just how unpleasant that would be. Suddenly, his eyes softened.

He looked like he was about to kiss me, so I turned my head away.

He grabbed my jaw and forced me to look up at him. “I’d love an excuse to do just that,” he stated gruffly. The silence spanned between us as his eyes burned into mine.

Slowly, he released my jaw. He reached for my left arm and dragged me into the middle of a large living room. The furniture had been carved from logs, just like the bed. Massive windows ran along an entire wall from the ceiling to the floor, peaking in the center.

I took a step toward the windows. I couldn’t resist the breathtaking view.

He stared at me. Then he gradually released my arm.

I walked to the windows and pressed my hand against the cold glass. The sky was a brilliant shade of blue, and there was nothing but snowcapped trees as far as the eye could see.

“There is no place for you to run,” he warned dryly. “You leave this house and you will die.”

I turned away from the window and studied him solemnly. “Why?”

He shrugged. “Because I could.” He turned and walked toward the kitchen. “And because you refused to give me a chance.”

I sank into a thickly cushioned chair, feeling utterly defeated. I examined my surroundings. I couldn’t tell whether we were in a house or a luxury cabin. The two story living room was quite large, and there were no walls separating it from the kitchen or the dining area. I wouldn’t be able to make a move without being seen.

He returned with a cup of coffee and some toast. “You barely touched the oatmeal. You should eat.” He set the coffee on the coffee table and handed me the toast before sitting on the couch. He rested his elbows against his knees and silently studied me.

My stomach warred against my brain as I picked at the toast. I couldn’t even feign interest in the coffee. I seemed hardwired to resist everything this man was offering me. “What are you going to do to me?” I whispered as I stared down at the toast.

“Everything,” he replied in a very dark tone.

“Everything,” I repeated hoarsely. My eyes flitted to his as I tried to choke down a piece of toast. “Are you going to kill me?”

“It depends,” he responded indifferently.

“On what?” I asked, suddenly alarmed. I hadn’t thought he wanted me dead. Why would he go through the trouble of kidnapping me if he wanted me dead?

He walked back to the kitchen and poured another cup of coffee. “On how hard you fight me.”

I refused to acknowledge his response. I fixed my eyes on the view outside the window, instead.

I studied the silent, snow-packed mountain and shook my head in disbelief. I couldn’t believe my life had spiraled back to this. I gazed out over the evergreen trees, and I knew... no one would hear me scream.