Stolen by Ron Chudley

Author:Ron Chudley
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-926741-93-2
Publisher: Touchwood Editions
Published: 2007-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

TWO

As John tried to sit up there was a click, and something hard and painful bit into his wrist. His arm was pulled sharply sideways and there was another click. At the same time there came a sharp cry. Libby’s voice.

He remembered where he was and saw that the girl was struggling to sit up too. As she did so, his arm was jerked again and only then did he realize that something was holding them together. Amazed, he twisted around to see what it was.

Handcuffs.

Then there was a brisk flurry, and the bedclothes that covered both of them were wrenched away.

“Okay, you two animals,” a harsh voice said. “Out!”

John jerked his head up, finally focussing on the figure beyond the bed. It was Will North. The ex-cop was fully dressed, with what looked like a police-issue revolver in his hand.

The next thing John understood, as shock jerked him into full consciousness, was that he and the girl handcuffed to him were naked. Embarrassment rose, to be shoved aside by anger. But it was Libby who got in the first words.

“You pervert!” she snarled. “What do you think you’re doing?”

She wasn’t looking embarrassed. Fury stretched her slim body as taught as a bow-string, her nipples pointing at North like accusing fingers.

He in turn was staring at her, the lustful gaze that John had noticed earlier now obscenely frank. Like hungry rats, his eyes wandered over her body.

John’s anger accelerated to rage. “You bastard!” he yelled. “Let us go, or I’ll goddamn kill …”

North hit him, slapping John across the side of the head with his gun. The impact of steel on his cheekbone was like an internal explosion: agony and a galaxy of stars followed by a rush of nausea. As he tried to raise his hand to his head, the handcuffed wrist jerked Libby onto him, and they both tumbled off the bed onto the floor.

Another pain exploded, in the small of his back, this time from a boot. The kick was followed by another sickly-sounding impact and he heard Libby shriek. The pain of the head blow blurred his vision, but he peered around frantically, trying to see what terrible thing had happened to Libby and at the same time to shield her from this senseless unfolding nightmare.

Then something grabbed his manacled wrist. Expecting more punishment, he flinched away. But this time none came. There was a click, and although the pressure on the wrist remained, he didn’t seem to be attached to anything anymore. He rolled around and managed to sit up.

North was backing off, holding a small key. Although the handcuffs were still attached to John, Libby had been released. She was hugging her side, and John could see an ugly round welt—a toemark—on the ribcage under her breast.

North was now standing with his back to the door, revolver in hand, covering them almost casually. “Okay, assholes,” he said.

“That was a little taste. To show you I’m not gonna take any shit. Both of you get dressed.

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