Jeremy,” he stated, with a predatory tinge in his voice. “And don’t you worry, as long as your husband does what he’s told, you’ll be just fine.”
Jeremy’s finger traced a teardrop down her face, her neck, and eventually her chest, where he slowly began to draw back the material of her thin tank top.
“Don’t you fucking touch me!” Meghan shouted, trying to shove the big man away from her with her bound hands, which elicited a laugh from him.
“Well, aren’t you a firecracker?” he laughed, but then his smile suddenly gave way to fiery rage. “You’d better watch yourself, bitch! Disrespect me again and I’ll—”
“Jeremy,” said a calm voice from behind them, and the big man quickly backed away from Meghan and straightened his posture.
“I didn’t expect you so early, sir,” Jeremy stated, fear evident in his words.
Meghan turned to see who had frightened this imposing man so thoroughly. Standing in the doorway was one of the most highly-manicured elderly men she had ever seen. He stood just south of six-foot tall, decently built and wearing a dark suit that was clearly tailored to fit him exactly. His perfectly tanned face was framed by a full head of flowing, silvery-gray hair—and not a single strand was out of place. His immaculately straight, fluorescent-white teeth were visible through the terrible grin that stretched across his features. There was something unnatural about this man; his eyes didn’t match the rest of his appearance, almost as if he was thousands of years old, his body maintained and kept alive only by the darkest sciences. The air that the man exuded instantly struck fear into Meghan, and she began to tremble uncontrollably.
“There has been a development,” he stated. “Get the car. We’re needed sooner than we thought.”
With one last hungry look at Meghan, Jeremy passed the elderly man and exited the suite.
“Mrs. Walker,” said the man, and she jumped. “Jeremy and I will be leaving for a short while. We’ve left scissors in the kitchen; feel free to remove those awful restraints from yourself and your daughters. Help yourselves to anything the villa has to offer. Feel free to do what you will—enjoy yourselves. You are not a captive here by any means. Should you choose to take your daughters and leave, you may do so with my blessing but there will be dire consequences. If all three of you are not here when we return, we will not pursue you but your husband will die.”
That said, he turned and left.
11
When Charlie awoke, his head pounded fiercely—so fiercely that he actually cried out in surprise. His sight had not yet returned and he had no idea where he was, but he could sense people nearby. Eventually, the fog obscuring his vision cleared and he was able to take stock of his surroundings.
Fortunately, taking stock was unnecessary, for he was in his own room at the Caribbean Beach. Unfortunately, he was not alone. In a chair by the compass-themed table sat a striking elderly man in a dark suit, calmly watching him with an almost clinical air, as if studying a lab rat.
“There’s a bottle of water on the table to your right, detective,” the man spoke smoothly. “Drink no less than eight ounces and the headache will subside shortly. The use of the sedative and subsequent stimulant in so short a time has dehydrated your brain. Do not speak—drink. There will be time for conversation yet.”
Seeing no harm in it, Charlie picked up the bottle of water. It struck him as odd, since it was made of glass and capped with stainless steel. Removing the heavy top and tossing it on the table, he swallowed half the contents in one long draught. He wasn’t sure whether it was an illusion caused by dehydration, but it was quite possibly the best water he’d ever tasted. A second long draught emptied the bottle, and he set it lightly on the bedside table.
As if reading his mind, the man spoke again.
“Purified glacier water imported
Jeremy’s finger traced a teardrop down her face, her neck, and eventually her chest, where he slowly began to draw back the material of her thin tank top.
“Don’t you fucking touch me!” Meghan shouted, trying to shove the big man away from her with her bound hands, which elicited a laugh from him.
“Well, aren’t you a firecracker?” he laughed, but then his smile suddenly gave way to fiery rage. “You’d better watch yourself, bitch! Disrespect me again and I’ll—”
“Jeremy,” said a calm voice from behind them, and the big man quickly backed away from Meghan and straightened his posture.
“I didn’t expect you so early, sir,” Jeremy stated, fear evident in his words.
Meghan turned to see who had frightened this imposing man so thoroughly. Standing in the doorway was one of the most highly-manicured elderly men she had ever seen. He stood just south of six-foot tall, decently built and wearing a dark suit that was clearly tailored to fit him exactly. His perfectly tanned face was framed by a full head of flowing, silvery-gray hair—and not a single strand was out of place. His immaculately straight, fluorescent-white teeth were visible through the terrible grin that stretched across his features. There was something unnatural about this man; his eyes didn’t match the rest of his appearance, almost as if he was thousands of years old, his body maintained and kept alive only by the darkest sciences. The air that the man exuded instantly struck fear into Meghan, and she began to tremble uncontrollably.
“There has been a development,” he stated. “Get the car. We’re needed sooner than we thought.”
With one last hungry look at Meghan, Jeremy passed the elderly man and exited the suite.
“Mrs. Walker,” said the man, and she jumped. “Jeremy and I will be leaving for a short while. We’ve left scissors in the kitchen; feel free to remove those awful restraints from yourself and your daughters. Help yourselves to anything the villa has to offer. Feel free to do what you will—enjoy yourselves. You are not a captive here by any means. Should you choose to take your daughters and leave, you may do so with my blessing but there will be dire consequences. If all three of you are not here when we return, we will not pursue you but your husband will die.”
That said, he turned and left.
11
When Charlie awoke, his head pounded fiercely—so fiercely that he actually cried out in surprise. His sight had not yet returned and he had no idea where he was, but he could sense people nearby. Eventually, the fog obscuring his vision cleared and he was able to take stock of his surroundings.
Fortunately, taking stock was unnecessary, for he was in his own room at the Caribbean Beach. Unfortunately, he was not alone. In a chair by the compass-themed table sat a striking elderly man in a dark suit, calmly watching him with an almost clinical air, as if studying a lab rat.
“There’s a bottle of water on the table to your right, detective,” the man spoke smoothly. “Drink no less than eight ounces and the headache will subside shortly. The use of the sedative and subsequent stimulant in so short a time has dehydrated your brain. Do not speak—drink. There will be time for conversation yet.”
Seeing no harm in it, Charlie picked up the bottle of water. It struck him as odd, since it was made of glass and capped with stainless steel. Removing the heavy top and tossing it on the table, he swallowed half the contents in one long draught. He wasn’t sure whether it was an illusion caused by dehydration, but it was quite possibly the best water he’d ever tasted. A second long draught emptied the bottle, and he set it lightly on the bedside table.
As if reading his mind, the man spoke again.
“Purified glacier water imported
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