Page 62 of Devil's Work: Dark

Ty and I had the gun talk when Dark came to stay. Only police and guarder men can hold or touch guns.Neverlittle boys or their sisters. So I’m not afraid of him seeing it. I’m only afraid of what it means that he is.

“Ty, wait right here and stay quiet, okay?” He looks up at me visibly confused but shakes his headyes. I walk to Lacy’s room, getting her up. My phone is to my ear as I try to reach Dark. No signal. Why isn’t there a signal?

With Lacy on my hip, I try a different room. None of them work. I have no signal for some reason and that prickles the hairs on the back of my neck. Again, I hear a soft noise, like the plunger going through the tube on one of Lacy’s pop-up toys, and I run to the window. Seeing the back of Winky’s jacket, I know it’s him that drops. I gasp. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a figure move. And the figure appears to have a gun hanging down by his side.

Shit.

No.

This cannot be happening.What do I do? What do I do? Think, Rae, think…

“Okay, Ty. Mommy is taking you and Lace to the crawlspace under the house.”

“Why? It’s not storming.”

“A bad man is here, baby. I need to get you safe. You keep your sister quiet for me, okay?”

The fear in his eyes brings me to tears, though I don’t let him see them. I don’t want to scare him even more. We slip quietly out the back door. I hurry the kids over to the crawlspace and let Ty go under first, then I hand him off his sister. “I love you, buddy,” I whisper. “Mumma loves you both more than you could ever know.”

“Love you, Mumma,” he whispers back.

“Remember, buddy. Not a sound. No matter what you hear, you stay right in this spot until Dark comes for you, okay?”

He shakes his headyeswith glassy eyes. I kiss both of them because I don’t know if I’ll ever get the chance again, then I shut them in. I can’t let my kids get trafficked. They know I have kids, but I’m the target. If I go willingly, they might forget about my beautiful babies. I sneak back inside the trailer and lock the door and hear him as he approaches the front door. Then he singsongs, “Come out, come out wherever you are…” But the voice sounds off, like it’s distorted through one of those boxes.

The plunger sound goes off again twice and my door creaks open. The man stands in the doorway. He’s tall, broad shoulders, wearing head-to-toe black with a rubber mask of Freddy Krueger concealing his face. From far away, if any of my neighbors are home, they’d just see a man.

“Time to go,” he says. The gun is pointed directly at me. I need to draw him away from my kids. I nod and step forward. He grabs my upper arm, forcing me out of the house. He marches me to his car hidden in the woods, past where my car is parked. Winky lies on the ground in a pool of blood. I don’t think he’s alive. And I was right. It’s a newer car. Well, an SUV with dark-tinted windows. He opens the back hatch. “Climb in,” he orders.

I don’t fight.

He can’t get to my kids. I’ll die if it keeps them safe. The back of the SUV becomes very dark when he shuts the door. He had me climb into the cargo area, not a seat. I lie down on my side, curling my knees up to my chest, and finally allow the tears to fall.

Miracle of all miracles, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I forgot I’d put it there. If it’s Dark, he can get to the kids. He can trail me. But it’s not Dark. The screen reads Dela. I swipe to answer.

“Del?” I whisper into the receiver. Nothing. Whimpering. “Dela?” I ask again. There’s crying and more whimpering, but no words. “Dela, sissy, where are you?” I ask on the verge of panic.

Yet again, nothing. “Okay, Del, I’m not ending the call. I’m going to put you on hold and try to reach Dark. That’s exactly what I do, putting her on hold and pressing Dark’s number. It rings and goes straight to voicemail. I try again. It goes straight to voicemail again. “Dark,” I whisper. “I’ve been kidnapped. Get to the house. Get to the kids. Please take care of them. I love you.” But it’s not in me to just give up and I try one more time. It goes straight to voicemail. When I disconnect to try a fourth time, it accidentally hangs up on Dela, too. I try calling her back. Neither of them answers.

At least he knows to get to the house. We’ve been driving for a while when the road grows bumpy, making me think we’re either on an old driveway or an old road in need of major repairs.

Every bump bounces my head, making it smack against the hard floor. It’s carpeted, but with that thin, scratchy car carpeting. Since he hasn’t bound my hands, I use them to protect myself, but they only provide so much protection. I’m sure I’ll have several bruises from the drive. The thought makes me laugh—if bruises are as much as I end up with, I’ll count myself as one of the luckiest women in the world.

Will Dark keep the kids like I asked or would he send them away? He’d keep them. He loves them. I can tell. I have to believe that. My poor Ty has been through more in his short life than any kid should have to endure. Sure, Dark is rough around the edges and saysfuckway too much, but what makes him the man I fell for is that he has a large, caring heart, even if he didn’t know it himself for most of his life.

My kids can do worse than to be raised with the club as their family. They’d have that if I live—No, Rae, stop the pity party.You’re getting out of this alive. Be smart, keep your eyes open for any opportunity to escape.

That’s exactly what I have to do. I have a screaming headache from the bumps back here compounded by my concussion. My stomach is starting to get queasy.

I’m almost thankful when the car stops—that is, until I realize what stopping actually means. I shove my phone back into my pocket, making sure it’s on vibrate beforehand because if Dark gets my message, I don’t want a phone ringing to be the cause of my early demise.

Finally, the moment of reckoning comes and the hatch door swings open. The man in the mask stands there and even though I don’t see it, I feel his maniacal smile. I think I detect a twinkle in his eye. It’s hard to tell because looking in the eyes of a killer is like looking into the sun. Both will make a girl go blind. Though it’s a safe bet that my blindness will be the direct result of a weapon or his fists. But I’m pretty sure he gets off on this shit.

Beyond him, on her knees, hands bound, wearing some sort of shock collar, covered in cuts and bruises all over her face—my sister.

She was why he’d thrown me in the very back. Because he’d shoved her in the backseat. She’d called me from the same vehicle.

Jesus.

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