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“Oh, what?”
“His mother died last year; they were reported to be extremely close. He took it hard, apparently. Then there’s an admittance form for a Mr. John Tucker into a mental hospital for ‘mental exhaustion.’”
Fantastic; he’s unstable and he’s got mommy issues. “What about the yacht? How did buy it?”
Drake didn’t even have to look at his notes. “He didn’t,” he said. “It belongs to his girlfriend…but he did have it renamedThere, Alwayssix weeks ago.” Flicking to the more recent paperwork, he swore again.
“The girlfriend’s family reported her missing…ten days ago.”
“Damn it!” Jared stepped on the gas, pushing the truck for all it was worth.Traffic cops be damned,he thought. As they entered the off ramp, Jared had to slam on his brakes to avoid skidding. Taking the turn at a dangerous speed, he headed toward the marina. “What about Harbor Patrol? Any chance someone has eyes on the yacht and can tell us where they’re headed?”
Nodding, Drake fired off a couple of messages. “If anyone has seen him, we’ll know by the time we get there.”
As they drove into the parking lot, both Jared and Drake looked around. On a rainy day like this, there were few vehicles in the parking lot. A couple of vans, some trucks with loaded trailers, and a few smaller cars were interspersed throughout. As they rolled to a stop, Drake jumped out. “I’ll check in with security,” he called out as he jogged toward a dark building.
As Jared jumped out, he had an idea. He grabbed Casey’s leash. He didn’t have much to go on, but maybe Casey could help. Giving the dog a quick head rub, he looked at her. “I need you to find your momma.” As if Casey understood, she began walking around the parking lot, sniffing at the vehicles. For the most part, Casey would give each one a quick sniff before moving on. When they got to the second van, though, Casey spent a considerable amount of time sniffing the back door.
As Jared became hopeful, he looked down. Bending, he picked up a crumpled piece of duct tape. There was a long, dark curl embedded in the tape’s adhesive. At Casey’s growl, Jared spun around. A man was walking toward them with his arms raised slightly. Catching sight of his left arm, Jared saw a new bandage. As Jared’s eyes narrowed at him, the man stopped.
“I can’t tell you exactly where they’re headed, but his destination is somewhere in the Channel Islands. I saw some rental papers onboard about a cabin.” Looking over his shoulder, he saw Drake leave the security station with a short, round man in uniform. As Drake waved to Jared to come quickly, the assailant slowly lowered his hands.
“Why are you helping me?” Jared barked at him.
“Can’t seem to get the look on her face out of my head. Probably should have stopped all this instead of handing her over, but money is money. Don’t usually have reactions like this.” Shrugging, the assailant pointed toward Drake and the security guard. “Better hurry. He has at least thirty minutes on you,andhe knows where he’s going.”
Jared swore under his breath. But even though time was of the essence, he wasn’t going to let this guy get away with doing this shit anymore. He waited a moment for the man to let down his guard, and then he rounded on him, punching him squarely in the jaw. It rung his bell, and Jared was able to put him into a chokehold without the man raising a hand to him. He left him on the pavement and jogged over to a gaping Drake and a tail-wagging Casey. “Drake, get your cop friends to pick him up,” he told the detective. When the man just stood there, staring at the crumpled mass in the middle of the marina parking lot, Jared clapped his hands. “Come on, let’s go!”
* * *
Rita had no idea how long they’d traveled. The thrum of the yacht engine helped take her mind off the growing agony in her hands and feet. The creep of circulation loss was moving up her legs and arms, and she was growing cold. The yacht stopped accelerating and seemed to be in idle before finally coming to a halt. Rita flinched as she heard Tuck’s whistle heading toward her.I hate that damn song. Since her first year of marriage to Tuck, what used to be a fun tune rapidly turned into one that became the precursor to fear and pain.
“Your hands are a pretty shade of blue, honey,” Tuck said as he squeezed her arm. Completely unprepared for the burst of pain, Rita squealed behind her gag. “I’ve missed all of your little noises, Rita. You were always so…responsive.” He dug his fingers in her other arm, and Rita screamed into the gag. Tuck seemed satisfied with that for now, and he turned on his heel, muttering about a surprise. When Tuck left the cabin again, Rita closed her eyes and took several shallow breaths. She counted the length of her breaths until, gradually, she was able to breathe more easily. Having been on the receiving end of Tuck’s wrath on more than one occasion, she was terrified. Normally, he was prone to wild rages that burned themselves out pretty quickly. But this Tuck was cold, calculated, and dangerous. Rita wondered what happened to the woman he was talking about earlier. Did he kill her? Despite everything that Tuck had done to her, and everything he’d threatened, she hadn’t wanted to believe him capable of murder, but now…she wasn’t as sure. He was different. Worse.
Tuck came back in a spiked choke chain. He held it up for Rita to see. “I had planned to use this on that damn dog, but since she isn’t here, I figure it’ll look just as good on you.” Tuck placed the chain around her neck and tugged it until it was snug. He hummed in appreciation. “Nice,” he decided and looked at her. “We never did the pet-play thing, huh? That one was a bit too far for you.” He tugged even harder on the leash attached to the collar. “Shame,” he muttered. Every time he pulled the collar tight, a pulse point popped up on Rita’s neck, and the man seemed to become temporarily mesmerized watching it speed up. He played with Rita, tightening the collar and gradually loosening it, while watching her pulse speed up each time. She knew that if he pulled too hard, one of those spikes could puncture her throat. Therefore, she did her best to remain as passive as possible—but it was a damned hard thing. He finally took the collar off and laid it on the floor.
Tuck reached for her mouth; he caught a corner of the duct tape and ripped it away, taking off skin with it as he yanked. Rita screamed, but it didn’t seem to affect Tuck one way or the other. He yanked the rag out of her mouth and patted the side of her face. “We’ve got a lot to talk about, you and me, but I wanted to show you something first. Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right back.” Then, he was gone from her view.
He came back quickly with a first aid kit and set it down. Digging through it, he found a brown bottle of hydrogen peroxide. He opened it and proceeded to splash hydrogen peroxide on Rita’s cuts. She flinched and hissed, but when he was done, she said, “Thank you, Tuck.” She knew it was the response he expected. He was “taking care of her,” after all.
This seemed to mollify him, and Tuck grabbed a pocketknife and cut the ropes binding Rita’s ankles and wrists. She made small noises of pain at the shift in circulation. She’d been tied up so long that she lacked the dexterity to pull her arms from behind the chair. She had to let gravity slowly bring them down and to her sides. She carefully dragged her feet forward in an attempt to change position as Tuck stood above her. “Get up,” he said. “I want to show you the boat.”
“Tuck, I can’t feel my legs.”
“Get. Up.” It was a growl now.
“I can’t,” Rita shot back hoarsely.
Tuck roared. He hated being told no in any capacity. “I said, GET UP!” He grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to a standing position. As Rita’s nerves came alive, she cried out, and her legs buckled. Unable to protect herself, Rita went crashing down. She hit the floor hard, smacking her head and her shoulder. Tuck stared at her, hot anger burning in his eyes. “Get up,” he said again.
“I’m trying.” Rita tried to drag her arms around front, but the shift from numbness to pain was massively disorienting, and she whimpered as she tried to get her body to comply with his demands. Reaching down, Tuck grabbed Rita by the hair and dragged her into a kneeling position. Stepping forward, he unzipped his trousers, and his cock sprang free. She knew that he was a sadist, even if he’d never use that word himself, but it was still horrifying to know that her pain and fear over the last ten minutes had turned him on, leaving him fully erect and more than eager for Rita to resume her wifely duties.
Holding her hair in a painful grip, he tugged her head in his direction. “Do it the way I like it,” he commanded, and yanked her hair again. At Rita’s gasp, Tuck shoved his cock in her mouth, choking her as he forced her to take all of him. Tears sprang to her eyes, and Rita struggled to accommodate Tuck’s girth. Normally, this was much easier because he rarely got fully erect, but for some reason, he was rock-hard just then, and Rita had to actively work to keep herself from throwing up each time Tuck triggered her gag reflex. Eventually, he gave up and threw her away from him. “You are useless, as always,” he hissed at her as he dragged his pants back up. “You’d think fucking that SEAL behind my back would have taught you a thing or two.”He knows about Jared, she thought. Her stomach filled with dread.
Grabbing her, he dragged her across the floor, and Rita tried desperately to get her feet beneath her. As he got to the stairs, he reached for the hatch and shoved her down. Unable to stop herself, Rita crashed down the steps and landed hard at the bottom. Tuck followed behind her and grabbed her hair again, pulling her back to her knees. As Rita looked up, she saw another woman hanging by her wrists. Her head was limp against her chest, and Rita couldn’t tell if she was alive. Her stomach tried to turn itself inside out. “Tuck, what have you—?”
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said. “But she’s still alive. Look, I’ll show you.” Pulling a Taser from his pocket, Tuck jammed it against the hanging woman’s side and pressed the button. The woman immediately bounced to life, screaming long and hard. “See? I told you.” As the woman continued to scream, Tuck backhanded her, cutting off her wail with a sharpthud. “Don’t you ever shut up?” Tuck walked to the wall and reached for a rope. Loosening it, he triggered the pulley on the ceiling as the woman was lowered to the floor. Grabbing her by the chin, he turned her head so she would look at Rita.
“Rita, meet my girlfriend, Gretchen Hawkins. Greta, darling, this is my wife, Rita.” Turning Greta’s head back toward him, he once again dropped his trousers. He guided her head toward his erection. Greta immediately opened her mouth and began giving him head. Tuck threw his head back in obvious enjoyment. He took hold of her hair and pumped his hips, forcing himself fully down her throat. Some occasional grunts and snorts came from Greta’s mouth as drool dribbled down her chin, but she was able to handle the assault far better than Rita ever could. Clearly, she was used to this.
