Trust Me II, page 49
“What did you have in mind?”
“There are men who would pay very well for women who look like they do. We could double or even triple our profit.”
“I don’t know about that. It’s too risky; what if his whore starts talking? There isn’t a country in this world who does not know him or his company. Selling her would be extremely difficult.”
“I suppose,” Bachmeier said with a disappointed grunt. “Then we stick with the original plans and ransom them off. He’ll pay greatly to get them both back.”
“Too bad what he gets back, won’t be what he was expecting,” Silvano laughed as their voices trailed off and the sound of a door closing echoed through the quiet mansion, leaving them in total silence again; save Sabrina’s ragged breathing around the tears.
Sandra frowned; so it was Silvano who had killed those guards and that prisoner. He was the mastermind behind all of this, but that still didn’t explain why. She and Sabrina sat back to back on the wooden chairs, hands cuffed behind their backs, ankles tight against the legs of the chairs. They couldn’t speak around the balls in their mouths, but Sandra’s mouth was dry and her face throbbed with pain, making her feel slightly nauseated. She was beginning to grow very anxious and nervous as she sat staring around the medieval decorations; it was the room Miriam said was her particular favorite.
Fear was an unwelcomed fiend and she knew if she didn’t control it, she would lose her stance; she had to remain calm and push aside her emotions. There would be time for letting go once she was back in her husband’s arms.
Closing her eyes, Sandra drew a deep breath thinking of her unborn child, her home in Yorkshire, her grandparents who would be arriving in England that same day with her sister whom she had finally managed to make amends with. She thought about the rest of the family, both hers and Creighton’s. There was a very large, extended family waiting for them to return and she knew this was not going to be the way they died; that much she promised the universe of fate and the karma of life.
Sandra sighed again; she was exhausted and was certain it would be very easy to keep her eyes closed and drift off to sleep, but that wouldn’t help them. She had to stay focused and thinking was the best way she knew how to do just that. The cuffs around her wrists were the same type Bachmeier had used throughout their trip; it was obvious where they had come from. Even though they could escape quiet easily, she was afraid of what the men would do if they found them again. Creighton was on his way, she knew it; all she had to do was remain in control until he found them. If she unfastened the metal restraints now, there could be blood shed when Andrew arrived, or Bachmeier and Silvano would get scared and run. Staying right where she was for now, was the best, if not the safest place to be.
She continued to think about the outside world in an attempt to reign in her stamina. There were a lot of people waiting for them, but she had to wonder about Donato. What would happen to his partnership with Creighton? Did he know what Silvano was doing; perhaps he was a part of all of this. That thought brought another frown to her face; she would never believe the older Vigano would support such an act from his son. It wasn’t his persona; he may have been an overbearing pompous ass, but he was kind and caring as well. None of this reflected as something he would be involved with.
A door slammed shut down the hall and footsteps faded on the wooden floor as she listened. Sabrina had quieted down and Sandra wasn’t sure, but she would almost swear she had dozed off. At least she was able to hear what was going on outside the room. She continued to focus on other aspects of their existence; her life was waiting for her and she was eager to get back to it.
Sandra wondered who was caring for Max and the animals, she thought about William and Emma, fear of what happened to them when Bachmeier arrived at the farm plagued her subconscious. Sabrina said they were alive, but she couldn’t help worrying. She could only imagine William fighting with the lunatic; then she remembered the shot she heard. She had thought it was something associated with the workers at the house; now she realized it was that exact moment William was being shot. The thought made her nausea increase and she was forced to hold her breath and count to ten in order to contain her stomach.
Images of Creighton filtered through her mind again as she forced herself to think of something less disturbing. She thought about his childish smile when he was excited, his cheerful disposition when things were going right, even his dark, perverted sexual appetite. All of it together formed a man she was hopelessly in love with. But she couldn’t help thinking about what he was going through.
She knew without a doubt, he was cursing himself for leaving that day, possibly even for bringing her to Yorkshire in the first place. He was angry because she had not left Bachmeier when she had the chance, but she also knew she could soothe his ire. If there was one thing she knew about her strange and wonderful husband, it was how to reduce his anger.
With a deep sigh, she began to think back on all the hunting and fishing trips with her grandfather; the camping trips he insisted his granddaughters participate in where they had to rough it; find their own food and prepare it. She remembered all the times she sat crouched in the brush next to James, waiting for a deer or an elk to come by. She had to be very quiet and concentrate; listening to the rushing water of the creeks and whispers in the wind. He would always tell her to remain focused, to listen to the sounds around her, to feel the air change and above all else to remain in control of her emotions.
Those words continued to echo in her mind. Because of the lessons of the past, she found the strength to calm the thumping of her heart and slow her breathing; she would take advantage of the opportunities as they arose.
Several long minutes passed by before the sound of a door closing again echoed through the silence. The heavy step of heels against the wooden floors came closer and Sabrina gasped, wide awake again. Sandra’s anxiety got the better of her and she began to feel around the cuffs for the release and was about to press it when the door opened.
The large looming figure of Silvano filled the threshold, his ugly pot marked face smiled at the two women still tethered to the chairs. He locked eyes with Sandra and snarled. She had to keep his attention focused on her in order to try and protect Sabrina, so she deliberately stared the man down, though her eye was nearly swollen shut and her jaw felt as fat as a newborn calf.
He stepped into the room and closed the door, a silver pistol in his fat grip as he slowly approached them. One push was all it would take and she’d have her hands free, but she couldn’t risk it; not yet. She held his gaze steady for a few moments, the smell of bourbon reeked in the air as he laughed a thick drunken sound. He reached behind her and lifted Sabrina’s chin so he could look into her lovely face.
“You look good enough to eat,” he said as he reached down and cupped her small firm breast in his large hand. Sabrina whimpered and Sandra shifted in her seat to get his attention. He glanced back to her, releasing Sabrina’s face and licking his fat lips with the tip of his tongue. Sandra could feel her sister-in-law cringe behind her, her head turning away from his lustful gaze, but Sandra continued to stare him down. She had to make certain he dealt with her and not the younger girl; it was the only way to keep them on a safe, level ground.
Silvano didn’t miss the disgusted look on his captive’s face and snarled at her again as he walked in front of the chair she was secured to, grabbing her by the hair and yanking her head backward to look into her stern, swollen face.
“You Americans act as though you’re above the rest of the world,” he said in a deep, slightly slurred tone. “The only thing that has brought you this far is the money that husband of yours is going to pay for your release. The fact that you are quite beautiful is an added benefit. I usually don’t waste my time with dirty yanks like yourself, but you do wet a man’s appetite. Maybe you should try and change my mind about your kind; it seems to have worked on Ashford. How is it you bewitched a man like him and so quickly? You’re not his normal type, so that must mean your know how to use that tight body in many unique ways. Maybe I should allow you to persuade me as you have that stupid Brit?”
Sandra remained silent, staring at the man boldly and actually felt an excitement fill her limbs when he bent over her and unfastened the cuffs around her feet, then brutally yanked her up by the arm to stand in front of him. The chair tipped over as she stood, but he didn’t seem to notice. Silvano wet his lips with the end of his tongue again, yanking her head back with a fist full of her hair. He leaned into her and began kissing her exposed neck, licking a hot smelly path up across her good cheek as his fingers played with the strap that held the ball tightly in her mouth. The sounds of Sabrina’s soft sobs sounded from the chair behind them, as the man continued to bathe Sandra’s face with wet licks.
“Let’s see if I can figure a way of putting that smart mouth to work,” he said unfastening the strap and pulling the ball from her mouth. Sandra licked her lips as she tilted her head and wiping her wet cheek on her shoulder. He looked at her through angry, drunk eyes and quickly lost his temper at her actions, striking her across the face again.
Sandra staggered back a step but quickly regained her composure, refusing to fall at the man’s feet. A metallic taste touched her tongue and she knew her lip was bleeding, but she chose to ignore it. She turned an angry challenging stare back to the man as she forced the tears from her eyes. She locked her one good eye with the dark, blood shot ones in front of her and curled her lip in disgust.
“On your knees, puttana,” he growled at her, reaching down and unzipping his pants. “You’re going to show me how you please that bastard of yours.”
“With my hands tied? Not very sporting of you, now is it?” Silvano raised his hand with the pistol to strike her again, but she tilted her chin upward, bracing for the impact, but as she stared at him he seemed to lose a degree of his composure and lowered his fist. Instead he grabbed her by the back of the neck and shoved her to her knees in front of him. She felt the hard floor slam against her kneecaps and for a moment the pain threatened to make her collapse.
“Think I’m stupid enough to let you lose?” he growled angrily as he began stroking his limp penis.
“Afraid?” she asked, her fingers working at the restraints behind her back, finding the small safety switch.
“I fear nothing, much less an American,” he snarled, wrapping his hand around her hair even harder as he lifted his penis toward her face. Instantly Sandra pushed the button on the cuffs, catching the man off guard as she reached in front of her with one hand, hitting his testicles with the full force of her fist while the other hand wrapped around the barrel of the pistol he held at his side.
Silvano cried out in pain and fell to his knees as Sandra yanked the gun from his fat grip and stood, moving away from him. Sabrina watched through tear filled eyes, blinking in surprise at her sister-in-law’s bravery.
“Up,” Sandra ordered him, feeling quite pleased at her calm even tone. She drew a deep breath to reign in her anger, silently thanking her grandfather again for teaching her how to shoot.
Silvano struggled to his feet, his hands cradling his throbbing testicles, his eyes locking with the woman pointing his own gun at him. He looked dangerous and angrier then she had ever seen a man look, but that did little to intimidate this particular woman as she pulled the hammer back.
“You really think you can get away?” the man asked, his tone difficult to understand through his thick, pain filled accent. “You still have Bachmeier to deal with.”
“That’s something I’m not worried about,” Sandra answered.
“He’s watching right now, you know?” He smiled, glancing to the cabinet in the corner beside him. Sandra looked to it and smiled. She knew from her visit here to meet with Miriam, they were indeed being recorded, provided there was a tape in the machine; the light switch that controlled them had been flipped to activate the camera hiding inside the credenza.
“Good, then he’ll know how easy it was to disarm you; maybe he’ll just tuck his tail between his legs and crawl back into whatever hole the two of you came out of.” Silvano growled as he lunged for the gun, wrapping his hand around hers, but Sandra held tight, her thumb never once coming off the hammer. She lifted her knee and connected it once again with the throbbing pain in his already sore crotch. The man cried out, his hands cupping around his twitching penis, tears streaming down his red cheeks as he fell to the floor again.
“Get up,” Sandra ordered again as she took a step backward away from him. Her tone was even and filled with anger as she watched him struggle to his feet, whimpering in pain. “Over to the bed.” She waved the pistol toward the large four poster bed and waited as he hobbled to it, sitting on the edge of the mattress. She waited until he was far enough away from them she could move without interruption then bent over slowly to push the safety button on the cuffs around Sabrina’s hands. She knelt down and unfastened her feet as Sabrina pulled the ball out of her mouth.
“Stretch out your arms,” Sandra ordered Silvano who was still cradling his swollen penis. She handed the cuffs to Sabrina and narrowed her eyes.
“Cuff him to the posts,” she ordered; the expression on her face warned Sabrina to not argue. The girl hurried over and cautiously slipped one cuff around the man’s large wrist. “Secure the other end high on the post,” Sandra instructed, the gun pointed at the man who glared at her. Sabrina quickly did as ordered, climbing on the bed behind him and lifting his arm above his head. She fastened the metal cuff as high on the post as possible before going to his other side, following the same actions.
“Gag him Sabrina,” Sandra instructed tossing her the gag she had been wearing a few minutes earlier. “He can have mine,” she snarled, aware that the idea of sharing the same saliva as an American would aid in his irritation.
Sabrina caught the ball by the strap without hesitation, feeling stronger and more confident with the man’s arms fastened tight; she strapped the leather bands around his head after only a moment’s resistance, making certain the ball was between his lips.
The two stood there for several moments trying to regain their composure before Sandra eased the hammer back down, turning and walking cautiously to the door first. Silvano started grunting, trying to shake the heavy bedposts without success, then grimaced and raised his knees as a cushion against the pain radiating through his bruised penis.
Sandra opened the wooden barrier and glanced nervously around; assured Bachmeier was not lurking outside in the dark hallway, they slipped quietly out of the room, closing the door behind them and began down the hallway. Sabrina glanced to her heels, hearing them scrap and click against the cold floor, then removed them silently, following Sandra down the corridor.
Bachmeier’s voice could be heard from the office at the end of the hall; his tone angry as he shouted in the room behind the closed door. Sandra stopped and listened to the man, certain he was speaking to Creighton on the phone.
“I said fifteen million, not a pee less, or the bitches die.” Sandra narrowed her eyes, her jaw clenching tight. The eagerness to burst into the room shooting like some Clint Eastwood film was overwhelming, but she fought the urge and listened for a few more minutes.
“You’ll never find us, you stupid moron,” Bachmeier shouted. “We’re in the last place on earth you would think to look. Now get the bloody money and do as you’re told. I’m giving you just two more hours, or you’ll never see them again.”
Sandra glanced around the hall looking for a place to hide or a way out, but found instead several wooden chairs sitting beside a wooden table at the junction of two corridors. She motioned to Sabrina to stay put and handed off Silvano’s gun then hurried to the chairs, bringing one back with her. She slipped the top support of the chair beneath the handle of the office door as quietly as she could and pushed it up tight, just as Creighton had done the night before their wedding when he snuck into his old room to be with her.
Assured the door was braced, she grabbed Sabrina’s hand, hurrying around the corner and looked down another long hallway. There didn’t appear to be a way out, just more rooms each decorated with a different style of door. They turned and looked behind them to another hallway and saw the same thing. Dim security lights shone softly to illuminate the narrow corridors, but there didn’t appear to be a way out.
“What does that say?” Sandra whispered softly, pointing to a door halfway down the hallway they had just left.
“Emmagasinage,” she answered. “It means storage.”
“Let’s go,” Sandra said, leading the way to the room and carefully opening the door. Inside were ceiling to floor shelves of cleaning supplies, toilet paper, bedding, candles and other miscellaneous items. Several boxes containing vibrators, dildos, whips, handcuffs and assorted sex toys lined the shelves near the back of the room. To the right behind the shelves was a small door, closed to whatever was hiding behind. Sandra walked to it and slowly opened the barrier, seeing a set of stairs leading down. Taking two candles and finding a box of disposable lighters, she motioned silently for Sabrina to follow and they stepped through, closing it tightly behind them.
Sandra lit the candles and handed one to her sister-in-law, carefully leading her down the dark stairs, feeling their way along the concrete wall until their feet touched the cold stone floor.
“Now what do we do?” Sabrina asked, looking around at the array of unassembled furniture; lamps, tables, bed frames, mattresses and many, many sealed brown boxes. The room was barely sixty feet square and Sandra frowned as she glanced around the clutter for a suitable place to hide. It was filled with more items than her grandparents’ garage had been after she moved her stuff from storage into it.
“We’ll stay down here. I doubt he’ll come looking this far, but if he does there are plenty of places to hide. Creighton and Andrew will be here soon.”
