Page 60 of Rough Stock

Renzo opened the large steel cabinet, exposing rows of large batteries, and flicked a switch, noting the time on his watch. ‘The ATVs will have the day to recharge.’ He closed the door and sauntered towards Izzy, trapped in the ATV’s rear tray. ‘Ready to sit in a sauna, Is-o-bel?’

‘I’d rather go home.’ With wrists and ankles bound, it made her sick that Renzo hoisted her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carried her to the parked truck with an enormous cage on the back, where he flung her onto the straw-covered floor. The heavy metal door clanged shut, and he slid the bolt across, clicking a padlock in place, then made a big show of attaching the key to a lanyard, that he then hung around his neck like jewellery. ‘Comfy, Is-o-bel?’

She scowled at Renzo who seemed to feed off her fear. He seemed narcissistic enough to crave admiration, but psychopathic enough to exploit her fear, and he was enjoying this game way too much.

Dane poked a water bottle through the large metal grid of Izzy’s cage. ‘Here, you’ll need this.’

‘Thank you.’

Renzo leaned his shoulder against the cage, wearing a sly grin. ‘And this is the part where I tell you there’s no point in screaming, because there’s no one around. Tell her how close your neighbours are, Dane.’

‘The nearest homestead is about twenty clicks away.’

‘And they’ll have to kill me to get the key to your cage. I’ve always wanted a pet.’ He tugged hard on the side of her cage to demonstrate it was solid and smiled at her. It was pure evil. ‘Sit tight, my little pet. I’m going to take another shower to wash the dirt off. The stuff is like sandpaper.’ Renzo playfully shuddered as he tugged at his sweaty shirt. ‘How people live out here is beyond me.’ He scowled at Dane like he was a fly. ‘Why don’t you build yourself a house like normal people?’

‘Not my land anymore.’

‘Whatever. Just keep watch on the place while I’m gone. Because when I get back, Is-o-bel, we’ll have a nice long chat all about Everlight.’ The side door slammed shut.

The sound echoed inside her head, as if rattling the chains of true terror. Yet, to find any form of hope, she had to focus on something else.

She chose to focus on Craig and pray with everything she had that he was okay.

It then became clear just how big a fool she’d been. She’d put her job before the man she loved. And Craig had loved her so much he’d set her free, hoping she’d come back to him.

Only to have her return for all the wrong reasons.

Yet, when Bree had called her and told her how badly Craig had been injured, Izzy didn’t think of herself, she’d only thought of getting to Craig.

As harsh as it was, this was the lesson she needed to realise: love was way more important than a job. If she had to find an obsession—a lifetime hobby to focus on—it would be Craig. With him, she could build a future, a family, and share the life they both loved at Dustfire.

It’s a pity it took a madman with a gun to make her realise how lonely she’d been without Craig. She’d chosen not to feel, living under the control of her analytical brain, instead of finding that balance of emotion and peace, to live a life like she did with Craig. It’s the life Craig had always promised her, that was there waiting for her at Dustfire.

Silly girl.

She should have never taken that job in Sydney, even though Craig encouraged her to. But even then, she’d always made sure she paid the mortgage, because deep down she always wanted to go home to Craig. She no longer wanted to take on the world, she just wanted to see Craig, to sit beside him at Dustfire and share the spectacular view of the stars each and every night.

Would she ever get that chance again?

‘Sadistic prick he is.’ Dane mumbled to himself as he dragged over a small fan connected to a series of extension cords and aimed it at Izzy trapped in the large cage.

‘Thank you.’ The breeze made a difference. ‘I don’t suppose you could untie me?’

‘Tell you what, I’ll do your legs so you can sit better.’ Dane rattled around the small kitchenette and soon returned with a large kitchen knife.

It was enough to have her shimmying away from him, trapped like a rat in a cage.

‘Do you want to get untied or not?’

‘Yes, please.’ She hesitantly scooted closer, lifting her legs through the sizeable gaps in the mesh so he could cut the thick tape.

‘What about my hands? I can’t go anywhere, and my fingers are numb.’

‘Fine. Give ‘em over.’

She happily thrust her hands through the metal gaps.

Dane deftly cut the tape, wadding it up in a ball, and tossing it into the bin that stood near a tall metal trolley.

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