Taken by Tuesday (The Weekday Brides #5)(71)
Author: Catherine Bybee

“Fuck you.”

He winked. “Not yet . . . but soon.”

She cringed.

“Now smile.”

She lost her grip on the bar and tried to catch hold again. Her toes pushed off the floor and she managed to grab the bar again.

Mitch moved closer. “Let me see if I can convince you to smile.”

She focused on his knife as he moved it under her shirt and started to cut away at the buttons holding it together.

She whimpered and he kept popping buttons until her torso was exposed to his eyes, his blade.

“You ready to smile, General?”

He stood back, lifted the phone again.

Tears ran down her cheeks while she forced a smile.

Light blinded her.

He stood back and looked at the picture. “Now isn’t that better?” He twisted the phone for her to see it. The image didn’t even look like her anymore. Smudges of mascara streaked her cheeks, while the swelling and bruising of her jaw accompanied the drops of blood on her neck. Her hair was matted, her skin was pale, and she looked like a dangling carcass with a caricature smile.

Mitch sat back, looking at pictures on his phone, then he stared at her, lost in his own thoughts.

Every second felt like hours.

She bent one knee, trying to find something behind her she could wedge against to relieve some of the pressure on her arms.

The bar above her creaked and snapped Mitch out of his self-induced trance. “You can’t get away,” he told her.

“I can’t feel my arms.”

He puffed out his bottom lip like a two-year-old. “Well, we can’t have that.”

The knife slid up her sleeve, exposing her arms. He looked at his earlier handiwork and traced the edges of her scar with his knife. She tried to pull away as he made sure she felt her arms.

He laughed, and she screamed with every cut.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Neil and Rick sprang from the van before it rolled to a complete stop. Night vision goggles, heat-sensitive radar . . . they had what they needed to go in quietly and find their target. Good thing it was pitch-black outside or they would appear just as crazy as the guy who kidnapped Judy.

They started in the garage, found the entry to the adjacent building, and easily disabled the lock. In single file, and without words, they moved down the short hall before they found the stairs leading down. A Do Not Enter sign was plastered over the door, but it was obvious the door had been used recently. Someone had actually oiled the hinges, making the door silent as it opened.

Rick clicked on the night vision and the hall in front of him offered a green view of the empty basement. The sound of a fan blowing accompanied their footfalls. The first fork in the hall split them up. Without words, Neil took the right and Rick continued forward . . . closer to the noisy fan.

A door on his left made him pause. The rusty lock and unoiled hinges had him moving on. The corridor veered left. Without a direction, he took it, found a storage room filled with old chairs, desks, and various office supplies. The space was dusty from its obvious lack of use. The only thing there was evidence of was rats in the corners.

Back in the hall, he continued toward the fan.

In his ear, Neil said, “Moving northeast.”

“Copy.”

Each step in the basement met with disappointment. If Judy wasn’t there, where was she?

Rick pushed back the desperation inside him. C’mon, Judy.

He rounded what looked like the end of the building. An arrow pointed to the boiler room.

Judy’s piercing scream filled him with both dread and relief.

He ran now, switching the safety off his rifle.

        Judy wasn’t sure if pure adrenaline or unadulterated fear gave her strength, but when Mitch started back at her with the knife, determined to hurt her even more, she gripped the bar over her head and bent her elbows like she did when she worked out.

With bent knees, she connected with the man’s chest.

He stumbled back and she kicked both feet toward his face with a scream.

Mitch hit the floor, blood spilled on the side of his face.

The pipe above her started to give with her weight and she tried to bounce the rust free.

Mitch scrambled to his feet right as the bar gave way, dumping her on the ground.

Blood rushed to her arms with pins and needles.

A blurry mass rushed her, knocking her to the floor. “You’re going to regret that.” Mitch’s arms squeezed around her so hard she fought to breathe.

“Let her go!”

Judy almost didn’t recognize Rick’s voice.

Suddenly, Mitch pulled her in front of him, dragged her to her feet, his knife at her throat. Her hands gripped his to prevent him from killing her.

Rick had his weapon pointed directly at them, a lethal stare boring into the man holding her.

“I’ll cut her.”

Rick’s beautiful green eyes found hers. Her trust in him didn’t waver. “Shoot him,” she pleaded.

Mitch pulled her closer, ducked behind her head.

“Going to risk killing your own wife?” Mitch moved to the back of the room. She had no idea if there was an exit that way or not.

Rick’s weapon traced their movement. His eyes moved from hers and pinned on Mitch.

“Take the shot.”

The tension in Mitch’s hand was so tight she knew she wouldn’t survive the cut. The knife drew blood.

Noise behind Rick gave Mitch pause.

Judy pulled his arm, prayed her strength would hold, and twisted her head so it wasn’t blocking his.

Noise exploded inside the room. The man behind her fell to the ground, nearly dragging her with him.

Judy stepped out of the mess and directly into Rick’s arms.

Rick buried Judy’s head against his shoulder and held her.

Behind him, Neil and Detective Raskin stepped closer. From the look of Mitch’s body, he’d suffered more than one bullet.

Rick gently dislodged Judy from his shoulder and felt down both sides of her arms, her body. “Were you hit?”

She looked down at her mess of clothes and shook her head. “No.”

Thank God. He pulled her into him again and her arms gently wrapped around his waist.

“We need an ambulance,” he heard Raskin say into his phone. “And the coroner.”

Neil laid a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll call the family.”

“Tell them I’m OK,” Judy whispered. “Just a few cuts.”

Rick noticed more than a few. “Let’s get you out of here.”

They walked toward the corridor. Detective Raskin shrugged out of his jacket and handed it to Rick to place over Judy’s shoulders. Without words, Rick led Judy out of the basement, half carrying her away from her prison.