Page 70 of Payback

Mr. Carbuncle drew back, taking away his awful hand. I filled my lungs with warm, fresh air and glanced from left to right at my surroundings. Bare-branched, twisty trees stretched out for several yards and beyond them was what looked like a forest.

“You can do online banking, right?” He ran his tongue along the underside of his bushy mustache.

“Yes, but the account with all the money needs a signature for withdrawals.”

“Then I’ll keep you until we can get to a branch on Monday.” His gaze flickered down to my bare breasts. He reached back at a spot by his feet and retrieved a tub of vaseline. “Bought this for you in case we had trouble getting you loose enough for anal. There’s a lot we can get done until then.”

Panic exploded across my chest, and adrenaline filled my veins. I thrashed my arms, but the ropes encasing my wrist kept them above my head. Whatever happened, I couldn’t let Mr. Carbuncle touch me. “S-sir! You have to let me go.”

He pinched my nipple so hard, pain radiated across my chest and made me wince. “Why’s that, then?”

“He took my mom hostage.”

I snatched my gaze away from the overgrown mustache obscuring the middle third of his face. Ideas, images, memories scrambled through my mind, looking for anything I could use to stop the caretaker from proceeding with his plan. My desperate mind latched onto the visual of Mrs. Carbuncle stepping into Edward’s limousine.

“That’s what Rudolph’s good at,” I said. “Taking. Mothers. Hostage.”

The tub of vaseline fell to the forest floor.

“What did you say?” he whispered.

“He took my mom hostage.”

My throat dried, and my pulse beat so hard against my eardrums, it drowned out the sounds of the birds. I had to make this explanation as convincing as possible so he would think about his own mother.

“M-mom went to another country to hide from that brute, but he brought armed bodyguards to find her. Rudolph came to the academy today and tried to make Mom sign some papers to have me institutionalized.”

Still keeping those wild eyes on my face, Mr. Carbuncle rose to his feet. My stomach lurched. Would he kick me in the belly for lying as he had done in that abandoned apartment?

A gut-wrenching silence stretched out for an eternity while the caretaker remained rooted to the earth. Tiny tremors twitched across his face, and his lips twisted under his unkempt mustache.

I squeezed my eyes shut and let out a trembly breath. There was no telling what was going on in the mind of that lunatic. Right now, I had to be careful with what I said next. Pushing the kidnapped mother angle might make him wonder how I knew Mrs. Carbuncle was missing. If I told him outright that Rudolph had taken his mother, then he might punish me for not telling him earlier.

“Fuck,” he snarled.

Without meaning to, my eyes snapped open, and my gaze traveled up from the dungarees pooled around his ankles, over bowed legs covered in a thick coating of matted hair, and to a deflating, mushroom-shaped penis that curved out of a nest of pubes as bristly as his walrus mustache.

My gaze skipped past a bristle-covered beer belly, and outsized pecs with the largest nipples I’d seen on a man, to his stricken face. “S-sir? What’s wrong?”

“My mum.”

I held my breath, praying to whoever was listening that he would come to the right conclusion. When he didn’t speak, I said, “D-do you think Rudolph might track her down?”

A strangled noise rumbled in Mr. Carbuncle’s throat. “He’s got Mum.”

“Bring her along if you’re worried about her,” I said, playing ignorant. “Or take her to a bed and breakfast if you’re concerned about Rudolph’s violent bodyguards. The money in my account should cover the costs.”

“You don’t understand.” He balled his hands into giant fists. “My mum’s been missing for days.”

I turned my head. “Oh, no. Were you close?”

“Why are you talking about her as if she’s already dead?” he roared.

My heart jumped into my throat. I’d overdone it. “S-sorry! It’s just that he had Charlotte’s brother badly beaten in prison for saying Philippe organized my abduction. He’ll probably have Philippe killed for knowing his secrets. If Rudolph is holding your mom, he probably doesn’t want you to testify against him and Philippe.”

Mr. Carbuncle pulled his dungarees up to his chest, clipped on their fastenings, then paced within the shelter of the twisted tree.

He paused and stared at me. “I don’t suppose he’ll take you in exchange for mum?”