After Today (The After Series Book 1) Page 19

  Terror grappled, threatening to obliterate rational thought. If anything happened to Mackenzie…

  Who was he kidding? It had happened. Was happening. And he needed to get to her.

  “Quinn, take Kat home,” he instructed.

  “No, man. I’m coming with you.”

  “No, you’re not. You need to take Kat and find Chloe and Rachel. Protect them.”

  Jake knew Quinn was torn, and honestly? He needed Quinn’s help to get the women back. But Jake also needed to know that someone was looking out for Chloe, Kat, and Rachel.

  He’d lost faith in Townsend and trust in Sanford.

  Resolutely, he nodded at Quinn. “Look after them.”

  “I will.”

  “Get in the fucking truck!” Jim yelled, already behind the wheel and revving the engine.

  Jake and Jesse ran, sliding into their seats as the truck was already moving.

  “Wait! I want to come,” Buddy yelled.

  “You sure?” Jake called out the window. “We won’t be welcome back in Sanford, you know that, right?”

  Buddy paused, and then nodded, climbing in beside Jesse. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Mackenzie, Caroline and Maggie had been shoved into a white minivan. The kind a soccer mom would drive, with snack wrappers pushed down between the seats, and a set of child’s fingerprints marring the window.

  Sitting bound and gagged in the back seat, Mackenzie had the insane urge to laugh. She’d been trafficked to men tattooed in mayhem, and all she could smell was rotten banana.

  When the driver of the van pulled up at Dutton’s one and only luxury hotel, the Prestige Plaza, she closed her eyes against the utter surrealism. She’d been expecting a grungy warehouse. Or a derelict apartment block. But at the end of the world, it seemed the meek had not inherited the Earth. Instead, the scum were rising, and making themselves comfortable between premium Egyptian cotton sheets.

  The door slid open, and Caroline shrank back against Mackenzie, a muffled scream coming from beneath her gag.

  “Shut up, bitch,” said a biker, pulling Caroline from the van.

  But there was no venom behind his words. The men on motorcycles who had escorted them were relaxed and joking with one another, pleased at a job well done. There was an air of excited expectation that had Mackenzie’s skin crawling.

  Mackenzie and Maggie were dragged from the van, blinking at the row of motorcycles parked beneath the grand awning of the hotel. Instead of a bellhop, a woman greeted the returned marauders. Clad in tight, ripped jeans, she had lurid tattoos covering every inch of skin bared by her midriff tank top. The lush hair that spilled down her back was as black as the makeup rimming her eyes. Eyes that were gleeful.

  “Boys! What have you brought me?” she drawled, stopping short of the women and assessing them. “Only three?” She raised one eyebrow.

  “Come on, Gemma. This is a good haul, and you know it,” said the seedy man who had been giving orders. He strode to Gemma and snaked an arm around her waist, lowering his head to suck lasciviously on her neck.

  She pushed at him impatiently. “How many people are still in the town?”

  “Who cares? It’s just another ass-end-of-the-world town,” he replied.

  “No, it’s not,” Gemma snapped. “Sanford has a whiskey distillery, and I want it.”

  They turned away, their voices lost to Mackenzie.

  Her family was in Sanford. Chloe and Rachel and Kat. And Jake. How much danger were they in? Whatever negotiations Townsend thought he’d pulled off meant nothing to these people.

  “Take them to one of the empty suites,” Gemma tossed over her shoulder. “The one at the end of the corridor hasn’t been used yet. And hands off the merchandise. Understood?”

  There was grumbling as the women were escorted inside.

  “Gemma has West pussy-whipped. I didn’t sign up to be bossed around by no woman,” said the man holding a gun to Mackenzie’s back. “Gem might’ve gotten us out, but I’m about fed up taking orders from her.”

  “I told you before, Leon, what she don’t know won’t hurt her.” The man behind Caroline leered, groping at her ass. “This one bit me when I was adjusting her gag, and I’m looking forward to breaking her in.”

  “Mickey, I don’t know that’s a good idea. You know what Gemma did to Nick.”

  “Nick was stupid enough to get caught. I ain’t gettin’ caught.”

  They entered a spacious suite, pristine with its perfectly angled sofa cushions and tautly stretched bed linen. The man holding Maggie released her bound wrists and turned to Mickey.

  “West wants me back downstairs. If I were you, I wouldn’t be touching anything until he’s paraded them around. Hard to hide bruising when they’re naked.”

  Grappling with the makeshift gag, Maggie yanked it free. “I’m fifty-three. No one’s parading me around naked!” she yelled.

  “Some of us have been in the clink for years. We’re not picky,” Mickey said.

  “Prison?” asked Mackenzie. Leon had untied her gag and hands and she rubbed at her raw wrists, wincing.

  “We’d still be there if Gemma hadn’t come to get West when the shit hit the fan,” said Leon. He shook his head, frowning. “Still don’t mean she gets to call the shots now.”

  “Leon, you good to look after the women? I’m taking Mickey downstairs with me,” said the other man. “I don’t have the patience for Gem losing hers over him fucking what isn’t his.”

  “We brought them in!” objected Mickey. “We should at least get a crack at them before they go into rotation.”

  Mackenzie’s mind blanked on what “rotation” could mean. She sank to the floor, holding her knees to her chest and rocking gently. Gently. Just keep rocking, and nothing would touch her.

  She was cold and sweaty. And thirsty. So thirsty.

  The carpet in the suite was nice. The expensive kind. Probably wool. Mackenzie started stroking it. She could lie down right here and just go to sleep. And maybe when she woke up, she’d be back in Chloe’s guest bedroom with Kat spooning her.

  A boot nudged her, and she groaned. It was the same spot she’d been kicked back in Chloe’s kitchen.

  “Get into the bathroom and clean up. You look like shit,” Leon instructed.

  Maggie reached down to haul her to her feet, and the three of them, walking as a huddled mass, entered a bathroom that was larger than Mackenzie’s bedroom back in Chicago.

  When Caroline tried to close the door, Leon thrust it back into her face. “Nope, no closed doors. The last woman we had wiped her own shit through her hair, trying to make herself disgusting enough that we wouldn’t touch her. Crazy bitch.”

  Mackenzie rushed to the vanity and gagged into the marble sink. With shaky hands, she turned on the faucet, splashing water onto her clammy face and then cupping her hands to gulp at it.

  “That’s it, honey. Feel better?” Maggie soothed, rubbing her back.

  “Why are you so calm?” Caroline hissed.

  Mackenzie took a deep breath. The water had steeled her resolve and cleared her head. Raising it, she caught Caroline’s frantic eyes in the mirror.

  “We need to get the fuck out of here,” she whispered fiercely. “We are not going to be some commodity that gets paraded around naked and then used,” she spat.

  Where had this sudden strength come from? Knowing she had nothing to lose? Because nothing could be worse than staying here as merchandise.

  “Why is it so much worse that it’s a woman who’s doing this to us?” Mac asked, recalling the satisfied smirk Gemma had worn. The thought made her spit into the sink, her saliva acidic.

  “Hurry the fuck up in there,” Leon called. “You’ve got two minutes.”

  They took turns washing their faces and using the toilet. The scent of expensive hotel soap only highlighted the stench of their fear-drenched bodies.

  When they emerged, Leon directed them to a plush sectional sofa and threw them
cookies from the minibar.

  “West is gonna wait until tonight, when all the boys get back in from looting. So you ladies just relax, get some sleep. You won’t get much later.” He grinned.

  A pit opened up inside Mackenzie, dark and deep.

  Leon leaned back against the headboard, his boots smearing muck across the bed covering. He’d turned on the enormous flat-screen television and was flicking through the hotel’s R-rated movie selections.

  “Leon, what’s going to happen to us?” Mackenzie asked, leaning forward to catch his eye. They needed information, and maybe if they could establish some kind of connection with him, they could get him to help them.

  “Same as what happens to all the women,” he muttered, not taking his attention from the heaving breasts on the screen. Thank god it was muted.

  Caroline nudged her with a what-are-you-doing expression.

  “They can’t all be monsters. We need to use his name, let him know our names,” she whispered. “Make him see us as something other than merchandise.” Mackenzie turned back to him. “Leon, I’m Mackenzie. And this is Maggie and Caroline. “Do you have a sister? Mother? Because—”

  “Don’t bother,” he interrupted. “I ain’t gonna be your friend. The only friend I have is me, and that’s who I’m looking out for. Me.” His eyes flashed to hers, and then back to the porn. “The best I can offer you is some advice. Don’t fight and try not to get beaten on. The more bruises you have, the more likely the next man will add to them, until you’re too beaten up and they shoot you. Got it?” He turned up the volume.

  “I’m never going to see my kids again.” Caroline stuffed a fist in her mouth, tears spilling down her face.

  “Someone will come for us,” Mackenzie said fiercely.

  “Who? Jake?” Maggie asked wearily. “Where’s that boy of yours, Mackenzie? Because I didn’t see him anywhere today. Maybe he’s feeling guilty and couldn’t show his face.”

  “Why would Jake be feeling guilty?” Mackenzie hissed.

  “How do you think Townsend knew about that meeting in the distillery? Jake was the one defending that asshole, and he was the one having closed-door meetings with the mayor.”

  “What? Jake would never put us in danger! It could have been Trent or Gavin. Did you see them today?”

  “Oh, honey.” Maggie sighed. “I’m not saying Jake meant for this to happen. That fool of a boy probably thought he was helping, telling Townsend our plans to keep the peace in Sanford.”

  “What was it he said? That Townsend’s rules might seem severe, but they were for our protection?” said Caroline.

  Mackenzie felt gut punched. She collapsed back into the sofa cushions, her chin falling to her chest.

  Had Jake caused this?

  “Why just us?” Caroline said. “We weren’t the only ones.”

  “Who knows? We’re expendable? He had to use someone to show the town what consequences looked like,” Maggie answered.

  “Those gunshots as they were taking us away from town hall. What do you think they were?” Mackenzie asked, raising her head with new hope. “Someone was trying to stop Townsend.”

  “Maybe. I know Donny would’ve raised a fuss. But that boy of mine isn’t stupid enough to single-handedly wage war against this gang.”

  “Jake will come,” Mackenzie said stubbornly. “And Jim. Chloe and the girls will come up with a rescue plan. We’re not alone.”

  “Look around, girlie. We’re alone. I know you don’t want to believe Jake had anything to do with this, but he did. We’re here because of Jake.”

  Desperation clawed at Jake, making it hard to breathe. He was sitting in the passenger seat of Jim’s truck a half block from the hotel with Jesse and Buddy in the back.

  “I don’t know if I can wait until nightfall,” Jake admitted tightly, eyes stinging from the intensity of his watch on the front doors of the Prestige Plaza. “Anything could be happening to them and—”

  “Fuck it, Jake! Shut up!” Jim slammed his hands onto the steering wheel.

  “We can’t sit here and do nothing!”

  They’d had this argument several times already.

  “We can’t help them if we’re dead, man,” Jesse reasoned. “And this place is crawling with bikers. We’ve seen at least twenty coming and going, and there were twenty in the group who took them from Sanford.”

  “They could be the same twenty!” Jake said, jaw tight. Frustrated.

  “Or there could be forty,” Buddy ventured, holding up his hands at Jake’s furious look. “I’m just saying. Either way, they outnumber us.”

  They fell into silence, watching as a high-end Mercedes drove onto the sidewalk in front of the hotel. Two men exited, bickering.

  Jake jumped from the vehicle, setting his teeth against a stab of pain from his side. Using the cover of parked cars, he crept closer to the hotel, followed by Jim, Jesse and Buddy.

  “Who fucking cares? This fancy piece of shit couldn’t fit all the boxes. We should’ve taken that truck,” grumbled the passenger of the Mercedes.

  “Just help me unload, dickhead,” said the driver.

  The arguing men popped the trunk and began unloading crates of liquor and boxes branded with a cigarette logo, and another two men came out of the hotel to help them with their haul.

  “Thought you were hitting up the hospital? Gemma wanted drugs,” one of them commented.

  “Have you been near that hospital? It reeks. So many dead bodies you can’t even pull into the emergency bay. No thanks.”

  They disappeared inside.

  “Why do you think they’re unloading at the front, and not driving around back to the loading bay?” Jake asked, more to himself than anything.

  “Think we should split up? Two of us go check out the back?” Jesse said.

  “I think so.” Jake looked at the older man. “Jim?”

  “Yeah, okay. I’ll wait here with Buddy. Just don’t fucking get caught.”

  Jake knew they needed to be smart about this. They were outmanned and outgunned. Unquestionably. But they had the element of surprise. These assholes weren’t expecting them.

  He and Jesse slid from the vehicle, closing their doors softly and running to a recessed shopfront, eyes scanning the streets.

  “I say we make a run for it now, while we can’t see anyone,” Jesse said.

  “Just because we can’t see them doesn’t mean they’re not around. Or watching from the windows,” Jake cautioned. “I say we go a block left and approach from behind, rather than come up the side.”

  Jesse nodded, and they steadily moved forward, sticking to shadows created by the afternoon sun. Sweating beneath his jacket, Jake’s shirt stuck to his back uncomfortably, even as his hands reddened in the cold. He fisted them.

  Every second was an agony of not knowing. Was Mackenzie okay?

  He muttered a curse, and Jesse glanced at him, concerned. “You okay?”

  “Stupid fucking question.”

  “Right. Sorry.”

  The back of the Prestige Plaza was nowhere near as glitzy as the front, featuring a cement loading dock, a row of dumpsters, and several industrial-looking roller doors.

  “Shit!” Jake ducked behind a parked car, dragging Jesse down with him. “Did you see that? A guy came out of that door over there.”

  They raised their heads to look through the passenger window of the car, tracking the movements of the person who’d just emerged.

  “It’s a kid,” Jesse murmured.

  Jake realized he was right. The kid couldn’t have been more than seventeen, with the gangly awkwardness of a teenager. He pulled a Zippo from his pocket and lit a cigarette, slumping back against the wall as he inhaled deeply.

  “Is he armed?” Jake asked.

  “Not that I can see,” Jesse replied. “What’re you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking we jump him, see what information we can get from him.”

  “Risky.” Jesse raised his eyebrow. “You sure?”
>
  “Got a better plan?”

  “Okay. How are we going to do this, then?”

  “We need to act fast. He’ll have that cigarette finished in a couple of minutes.”

  “Let’s do this,” Jesse said. “Just try not to let me get shot.”

  “I’ll do my best.” Jake felt predatory. Feral.

  He darted away on swift, soundless feet, crouching in a shadow until he saw Jesse amble toward the kid, shouting a greeting. The kid jumped, dropped his cigarette. But instead of confronting Jesse, he turned and began running to the door he’d come from.

  “Fuck!” Jake swore, pushing his legs into a sprint.

  In his periphery, he saw Jesse closing in on the kid, but Jake was closer. He stretched, throwing himself into a tackle as the kid’s hands grappled with the door handle. They crashed to the ground, Jake’s knees taking the brunt of the fall and his wound re-opening with a bloody gush.

  “Please don’t hurt me!” The kid was sobbing, his arms held protectively over his head.

  Jesse extended a hand to help Jake up, and then pulled the kid up, too.

  “Shut up!” Jesse shook him. “Is there anyone else around?”

  The acrid stench of urine hit Jake, and he realized the kid had pissed himself.

  “I’m sorry I came out here. I know I’m meant to stay in the kitchen,” the kid cried, snot dripping from his chin. “Please don’t hurt me.”

  “Jesus, let’s get him away from here,” Jake grumbled, pressing against his wound to check it had stopped bleeding.

  “You’re not taking me back inside?” the kid asked.

  “What? Why—oh. You think we’re part of the gang? Fuck no,” Jake spat.

  They walked two blocks back from the hotel before stopping in an empty side alley.

  The kid was groveling, pleading for his life, and Jake’s patience snapped.

  “Would you shut the fuck up!” he yelled. “How about you tell us everything you know, and then we’ll decide if we’re going to off you or not, okay?”

  “Jake, keep it down, man,” Jesse warned.

  “Fuck off, Jesse. We’re not here to babysit. This little dipshit is going to help us because, if he doesn’t, I’m going to rip his fucking head off. Now, why don’t you get Jim and Buddy, while Dipshit and I have a little conversation?”