“Nobody.”
He didn’t believe a word she said. For all he knew there would be a media frenzy tomorrow. He’d have to keep her breathing until things settled down. Once he was sure her disappearance wasn’t an issue, he could finish her off and burn the remains at the dump a couple counties over.
“You should have stayed home.” He locked her back in the trunk.
Bain had a house in the rural area outside the city. He didn’t like noise, people, or distractions. He valued his privacy.
After his contract with Bernard Sutherland went bad, Boss had shown up at Bain’s house uninvited. He wasn’t sure how the fuck he got his address. Bain had refused to work for Killer of Kings when Viper signed on years ago, not comfortable being under anyone’s control. But Boss wasn’t ready to give up, offering him the kind of cash he couldn’t refuse.
No one else popped by to pay a visit. Salesmen were greeted with a shotgun, and soon no one dared to set foot on his property. His house wasn’t luxurious. It was a shitty, century farm house that had been deserted and sold off in a power of sale. He liked that it was off the grid, open concept, and surrounded by acreage. There was no way he could live in a cramped condo or row housing. The confinement of city living didn’t suit him.
He unlocked the front door and disabled his security system. It cost more than the damn house. Bain dropped his duffel bag on the slab kitchen table and unzipped it. He’d only used his handguns today, so it wouldn’t take him long to clean them. All his weapons were well maintained, clean, oiled, and precision tested. This contract had been easier than he expected. Easy money was always a good thing. Then he remembered the woman in his trunk, and his mood soured.
Bain pounded his fist on the table, the weapons clanging together in the bag. Just thinking of her pissed him off. He hated complications.
He shrugged off his jacket, and then grabbed a black garbage bag from the cupboard and returned to the car. There were few stars in the sky, the darkness only cut when the light in the trunk clicked on. He stared down at the woman. Sweat matted her hair to her cheek, and even the minimal lighting made her squint. She held her forearms in front of her face in a defensive posture.
Bain shoved the bag over her head and heaved her out of the trunk. “Walk. If you try anything stupid, I’ll kill you.”
She kept quiet as he led her into his house. This was the first female in his place. When he fucked around, he did it anywhere else. Those occasions were few and far between. He was raised in hell itself, forced to seduce and fuck rich, older women so his captors could bribe them or get closer to their husbands’ money. Sex had become something he hated, a punishment. He preferred the brutal beatings over the nights in strange beds, knowing he often had to murder the women he’d been forced to deceive.
Once inside, he locked the door and led her to the basement. He never went down there, but he wasn’t going to keep this bitch under foot, so it was going to be her home until he decided otherwise. Bain thought about how much he hated women, but that wasn’t true—he hated everyone. The whole world was against him, and even God abandoned him long ago.
The wooden stairs leading into the basement were rickety, each step punctuated with a groan or creek. There was only one lightbulb swinging from the ceiling, barely lighting up the damp space. Once they were on the concrete floor, he tugged the garbage bag off her head and tossed it aside. She gasped for air, brushing her hair off her face. Her eyes were wild with panic, a look he’d seen too many times to count.
“Where are we?” she whispered.
“It’s your final destination. No hard fee
lings, but damn, you were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
She hugged herself. “What are you going to do to me?”
“Relax. I’m not raping you,” he said, insulted. Bain could get any pussy he wanted. He didn’t need to kidnap women just to get laid.
“Please let me leave.”
“That’s not happening.” He pulled an old wooden chair from the darkness and set it against the wall. “Keep quiet down here. If you annoy me, you won’t eat.”
“But—”
“I don’t think you understand how this works. It’s very simple. You do as I say or things go bad for you. Behave yourself, and you’ll get food and bathroom privileges.”
He wanted to get the fuck upstairs, the dankness already creeping along his skin. There were a few facts he needed from the woman—her name, family history, basic description. It would help him keep tabs on the news reports and aid him in digging deeper if he needed to.
Bain took a section of hair that had escaped her loose bun and felt it between his fingers. Then he tilted her chin up and took a good look at her—brown hair and green eyes.
“What’s your name?”
“Scarlett.”
“Scarlett what?”
“Scarlett Meyers.”
“You married? Kids?”
She shook her head.