Page 20 of Sinner's Ransom: Taken
Montgomery cursed at him, but it sounded like a grumble.
Stone shoved him onto the other end of the sofa Salvatore sat on, then took the seat between them. “When’s Killough coming?”
George opened his eyes and returned the recliner to a sitting position. He glanced at Montgomery carefully and then looked at Stone. “This afternoon. He’s got a crew that can help us send it to the media without us being tracked.”
Montgomery wanted to ask who Killough was, but he had a feeling he didn’t want to know.
“Why can’t I do it?” Salvatore snapped.
“Because you’re good, but these guys are great. If they work for a mob boss, they have talent beyond yours,” Stone answered.
Mob boss? Shit. That made things a whole lot worse. What kind of men had kidnapped him?
Salvatore muttered something Montgomery couldn’t hear, then he waved at him. “Why did you bring the brat down anyway?”
Stone glanced at Montgomery with a small smile. “Because he can help us. He knows Booker better than anyone.” Even though he said it to Salvatore, he directed it at Montgomery.
“And why would he help us?” Salvatore asked.
“Because he doesn’t want to die.”
Montgomery rolled his eyes. It was all games to Stone, and as much as part of him wanted to believe he wouldn’t die if he helped them, he wasn’t naïve. These men had kidnapped him. They’d exposed themselves to him. He didn’t think he was getting out of this alive, and the thought still terrified him.
He raised his hands and pulled the tape off his mouth, a flaw either Stone didn’t think about or didn’t care to correct. The tape pulled at his skin, and he cringed at the sharp needles of pain that tingled at his cheeks. “You’re going to kill me whether I help you or not.”
“Maybe.” Stone’s grin widened.
“Fuck that. We’re killing this fucker when this is all over,” Salvatore spat, his stare full of disgust as he looked at Montgomery.
Stone sighed, the first signs of frustration evident, but it wasn’t aimed at Montgomery. “Enough, Sal.” He turned his head. Montgomery couldn’t see what look he gave Salvatore, but it effectively had the man almost cowering in his seat. “I’m in charge and I make the decisions.”
Montgomery snorted. “You’re in charge of a band of pussies.”
The strike against his face came hard and fast, and he didn’t have time to see it coming. The back of Stone’s hand met his cheek, and a yell of surprise and pain left his mouth as he flew against the back of the sofa. His face throbbed at the force of the hit, and he cupped it, eyes watery as he glanced at Stone with a hurt look.
Stone’s jaw tightened, his lips pressed in a thin line. “You will learn to keep your mouth shut and only talk when I tell you to, am I understood?”
A part of Montgomery wanted to nod, to comply, but the other resistant part of himself fought against the orders. He’d never been bound by rules and he wasn’t going to begin now, not when they came from a man like Stone.
“Fuck you.” Montgomery spat at him, and his glob of saliva met Stone’s forearm.
The other men in the room held their breath, their gazes taking in the scene greedily, but Montgomery stood his ground. His chin raised, daring Stone to do something through his stare.
Stone glanced from the spit to Montgomery’s face, an eerie calmness about him that made terror slide up Montgomery’s spine. He knew what to do with someone else’s anger, but calmness? He was at a loss. He’d never met anyone like Stone before.
“George, call me when Killough gets here. Monty and I are taking a walk,” Stone said.
George nodded. “Sure thing.”
Stone’s fingers curled around Montgomery’s arm in a hard grip as he heaved him off the couch and toward the back of the house. Montgomery struggled, but Stone’s hold was too tight, and he had no chance against Stone’s strength.
Stone threw open the screen door and led him out to the backyard. The sun filtered down through the trees, the heat beating against Montgomery’s bare skin as they strode down the length of the dying grass. The yard looked like it went on for miles, with tall trees about half a mile away from them, but they didn’t head that way. Stone shoved him to the left. He didn’t say a thing, and Montgomery was too scared to utter a word. Was this the day he’d die? Maybe he should have kept his mouth shut.
They walked for at least ten minutes, the soles of Montgomery’s feet meeting the hard stones and sticks lying on the ground. It hurt, but he bit his lip to stop himself from shouting out every time one dug into him.
Soon he heard the sound of running water, and they came to a narrow river with a strong current. Water sloshed against the banks, white caps on the small waves that broke against rocks. They stopped beside it.
Stone released him and stared at the river.
