A Perfect Storm(71)

"You mean you preyed on them, right?"

"After being in service, they're weak. They need me." He stepped closer and looked her over with sick intent. "Easy pickings."

Oh, to nut him real good. But he was so unstable, she didn't know what  he might do. He could kill Quinto before the others could get to him.

No way did she want that death on her conscience; Quinto had been  through enough. So instead of striking out, she engaged him in  conversation. "What do you want with them? You rape them? Prostitute  them out? What?" If she could keep him talking, the chances of survival  were a whole lot improved.

"Of course not. That'd be unseemly." He looked beyond her. "I make them … pets-just as I've done with Quin."

Imagining Quinto's shame at hearing that taunt, she rushed her  movements. In the process of slicing through the bindings, her sharp  blade did a little damage to her hands, too, but nothing all that  serious.

Nothing that would slow her down once she was free.

"You've got something else on Quin, though, don't you?"

Joel shrugged as if it didn't matter, as if telling her would have no  consequences at all. "He has a sister. Or rather, I have his sister." He  laughed.

"Huh? No kidding?" No way would she tell him that Quin had already shared that info.

She felt the binding loosen. Almost free. "Where is it you have her?"

"I keep most of the girls at my home, in the cool, comfy cellar."

"Where is that exactly?"

He tipped his head. "Still plotting? Still thinking that you might get  away?" His laugh had a demonic ring to it. "Foolish girl."

"I know where he lives," Quinto whispered, his gaze going a little wild. "I know."

"Yes, but your sister isn't there, is she Quin?" Smiling, he checked a nail.

"Why not?" Arizona asked as if it didn't really matter. "You have her somewhere else?" Where?

"Actually, she was on a delivery truck due to come in, but with Terry  Janes shut down … " He shrugged. "I'll be able to find out, though, and  then I'll get her."

Quinto deflated.

Arizona did not. She took great pleasure in saying, "Yeah … guess again."  She stared him in the eyes-just a minute more, and she'd have her hands  loose. "That truck has already been recovered."

"No."

"Yup." She turned to Quin. "Everyone on it is safe."

"Safe?" For several seconds Quin stood there, then he collapsed to his knees beside her. "You are sure?"

"She's lying!" Joel yelled. "She can't know that."

"Actually, I can and do know all sorts of things." Through the window,  in the distance, Arizona saw Spencer come over a crumbling concrete  wall, Trace right behind him. That meant Dare was watching the back, and  Jackson, no doubt, remained hidden with a sniper rifle.

Her priority now was getting Quin out of this cluster-fuck without him  getting hurt. "Everyone who was on that truck is safe-and you're as good  as dead."

Joel's hands bunched into fists. "No one is going to kill me." He took a purposeful, threatening stride toward her.

She was ready-but then Quin lurched forward, putting himself in the way. "No, don't."

God save her from heroes. "Uh, Quin … how about you move?"

Joel heaved with anger. He withdrew a small gun from his pocket. "Get out of my way."

Quin braced himself, saying, "I cannot. You've done enough."

Joel aimed the gun, and Arizona rushed to say, "Quin, seriously, dude, stand back, okay?"

He kept his back to her so he could continue to watch Joel. "I am so sorry."

"I know. Don't sweat it."

He looked over his shoulder at her. "I don't understand you."

"Yeah, I get that a lot. Just do me a favor and don't stand too close to me."                       
       
           



       

Before he could oblige, Joel slugged him in the temple with the gun, and  Quin staggered, falling to one knee. Joel used his foot to shove him  aside.

She felt for Quin, but she wouldn't let him distract her. Her gaze bored  into Joel. "You never stood much of a chance. But now you've sealed  your fate."

"Big talk-for a woman bound."

Her head didn't hurt anymore. Nothing hurt. Fury obliterated every other  feeling. She held his gaze, refusing to let him look away. "Even with  my hands tied, I will annihilate you."

Quin groaned.

Joel said to him, "Shut up." But then, showing his concern, he started  to the front to look out the window, asking, "You were followed? You  brought friends to help you?" He saw his two guards still standing  there.

Reassured, even cocky, he returned to Arizona. The gun held loosely in  his hand, he crossed his arms and grinned at her. "You almost had me. I  was almost convinced that you'd brought along an army."

"Not an army, no." But given their skill, they might as well have been.  "So, come on, then. I can see you're feeling feisty. Let's see what  you've got." Though she kept her posture relaxed, her hands behind her,  she was ready, more than ready.

Haltingly, a little unsure despite his boastful words, Joel took a step  toward her, raising his fist to strike her-and she kicked him hard in  the balls. As he grabbed for himself, she kicked up again, and this time  got him in the solar plexus. He wheezed and fell backward.

She was off the mattress in a heartbeat, her knife held in her now bloody hands.

Hysterical at seeing her free, Joel scuttled backward, screaming, "Guards! Get in here!"

One big bruiser burst in from the back, a gun in his hand-but before  Joel could get too excited about that, the glass in the back window  shattered. As if in slow motion, the man lurched forward from the force  of a bullet. Blood bloomed on his chest-and he collapsed face-first to  the floor.

Smug, Arizona said, "Told you so."

Shaking, Joel took aim, but she moved fast, slicing his wrist with her  knife. The blade cut through tendons and muscles with ease.

He screamed as the gun dropped from his hand, blood streaming along his arm, his face going white in shock and pain.

"Oh, my God," he wailed. "What have you done?" Holding his wrist, big  tears in his eyes, he whimpered as he fell back against the wall and  then slowly slipped down to the floor. He looked at her, his expression  wounded. "Oh, my God."

Annnnndddd … Joel the artist was back.

"Geeze Louise." Arizona collected the gun from the downed guard-who was  moaning, so apparently alive-and then kicked Joel's gun well out of his  reach.

A glance back at Quinto showed him staring at her in awe. "You okay?"

"Yes." He nodded. "Yes, I am okay."

She hunkered down in front of Joel. "What about you, buddy? You okay?"

Suddenly Spencer was there, bolting through the door. He made quite the  entrance, all decked out in weaponry, a bulletproof vest, his gun aimed,  his face set, ready for … anything.

Joel screamed again, but she understood that.

Spencer was a large, dark force, heaving in rage. He looked really, really awesome.

"Wow," Arizona said to Joel. "Will you look at that?"

Spencer stopped short at seeing her position in front of Joel. He began to breathe hard.

Slowly, Arizona stood. She felt … well, awkward. She nodded at his loaded  ammo belt. "Got your party dress on, I see. Expecting trouble?"

He pulled his attention from her to survey the room, taking in Quinto,  then the fallen body on the floor, with a glance. His gaze came back to  her face, searching her expression before going all over her body. His  eyes narrowed, and he started toward her with a heavy stride.

Arizona blurted, "There are other women. At his house. Quinto knows where it is."

Spencer halted again.

Quin nodded fast.

She gestured at Joel with the bloody knife. "He's … well, he's nuts. Totally whacko." She winced. "You can't kill him, okay?"

"I wasn't going to."

"Oh." And here she'd been all set to be noble and defend the jerk. Sort of took the wind out of her sails. "Well … good."

"I figured if you needed him dead, you'd have taken care of that."

"Um, yeah, I would have." Was he serious? Did he truly trust her to make  that call? Thinking about that, she said, "Can you maybe tell the  others not to kill anyone, either? I mean, it'd be so messy and  everything-"                       
       
           



       

In one long stride, Spencer reached her and gathered her into his arms.

"I'm a mess!" she protested, already knowing she'd get blood on his shirt and on him.

"You're mine," he said in return.