Monk by Ivy Black
Chapter Twenty-Four
Kasey
When the hood is pulled off my head, I find myself staring straight at Spencer. He’s sitting in a chair on the other side of a roughhewn wooden table, a malevolent smirk on his face. I’m surprised I’m not restrained in any way. But I suppose it’s because they don’t see me as much of a threat. Which is fine. Let them underestimate me.
The wooden floor creaks behind me. Obviously, the man who took me is walking around and the soft beeping I hear is telling me he’s texting somebody. Probably Zavala. It’s a thought that sends a shudder through me as images of decapitated bodies in mass graves flash through my mind. Not the sort of thing I want in my head right now.
I train my eyes at Spencer. He’s sitting there with a smug expression on his face. I’ve never wanted to punch somebody as badly as I want to hit him right now.
“You said I had until the end of the day, you lying piece of shit!” I shout.
Spencer tuts me. “Well, given that you stole a big bag of money from me and looked like you were about to run again, you can’t really blame me for acting preemptively, can you? I mean, let’s face it, Kasey, it’s not like you have a whole lot of credibility here.”
If looks could kill, Spencer would be dead ten times over already. But as the anger and indignity of the situation fades, the fear floods my body once more. Though I try to control the trembling, I’m not able to do it fast enough, making Spencer’s smirk even more ominous.
“Tell me, did you have a nice evening with that biker trash last night?” Spencer asks.
A sense of outrage cuts through the fear. My eyes widen and my mouth falls open as I stare at him, feeling absolutely violated.
“You followed me?” I ask.
“You didn’t actually think I wouldn’t keep tabs on you, did you? You stole from me once, how was I to know you wouldn’t do it again? I mean, you did break a trust with me, Kasey.”
“You pig. You freak!”
“You are full of surprises, Kasey. I mean, first you steal, and now you commit adultery? Tsk tsk.”
“It’s only adultery if you were my husband. Which you’re not.”
“The marriage certificate says differently,” he says.
“You clearly haven’t signed the papers, have you?”
Spencer slides an envelope out of his jacket pocket and waves it at me. “You mean these?”
He’s trying to get under my skin, trying to irritate me, and I’m falling right into his trap. Taking a deep breath, I hold it for ten counts, then let it out slowly. I need to think. It’s hard to do so given the fact that nobody knows where I am, I’m trapped with a sociopathic ex and a cartel hitman. Those conditions aren’t exactly conducive to a clear head and rational thought. But if I’m going to get out of here in one piece, I need to keep my shit together.
He takes a lighter out of his pocket and snaps it open, flicking it until the spark catches. Spencer holds it to the corner of the envelope, his eyes never leaving mine as the flames begin licking up the paper. The smell of smoke fills the room as the paper curls and blackens, and Spencer has that crazed look on his face.
But then, the Mexican man slaps the burning paper out of Spencer’s hand and stomps on it until the flames are out. He rounds on Spencer, his face etched with anger.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he demands.
Spencer gives him a shrug. “Just making a point.”
“The only point you need to make is that you aren’t a liability that Zavala’s got to deal with. Permanently,” he says, his voice colored by his accent. “We wouldn’t be here—Mr. Zavala wouldn’t have to come all the way up here—if you knew how to control your bitch.”
“Hey, fuck you,” I spit.
He rounds on me, his eyes blazing with anger. “If you were my bitch, I would’ve knocked your fuckin’ teeth down your throat already,” he hisses and leans closer to me. “If you were my bitch and you stole from me? Oh, chica, you’d better believe that you’d have a bullet in your head already.”
“And it’s such a mystery why you’re single,” I fire back.
The sharp crack of flesh meeting flesh fills my ears, and my head is snapped to the side before it registers that he’s hit me. The coppery taste of blood fills my mouth and points of light are bursting behind my eyes. I blink back the tears, not wanting to show them weakness.
I straighten up in my seat, swallowing the blood in my mouth. Spencer at least, has the good grace to look startled. For a moment, anyway. His expression changes and I see a strange light in his eyes. It’s like he’s never thought of hitting me to keep me in line before, and the thought of it is giving him a hard on.
The other man tugs on the cuffs of his shirt, seeming to put himself back in order. He clears his throat and takes a few steps away, almost as if he can’t trust himself to be anywhere near me at the moment. Spencer gathers himself as well, but looks at me, the smug expression on his face worse than ever.
“Sorry for hitting you. I guess what they say is true. You can take the man out of the hood, but you can’t take the hood out of the man,” the dark-haired man says.
“Oh, yeah. Kasey, this is Xavier Soledad. You can call him X,” Spencer says, by way of introduction.
“Yeah, pleased to meet you,” I say, my voice sounding thick and hoarse.
I reach up and touch my throbbing lip, feeling it grow larger, and my fingertips come away red with blood. The look on Spencer’s face is really starting to scare me and I know I need to get the hell out of here as fast as I can. Things already seem to be coming off the rails and I’m genuinely scared for what’s going to happen when Zavala gets here. I cut my eyes around the room, looking for an exit. Looking for some way I can escape if given half a chance.
Xavier looks at me again, the contempt on his face clearer than ever. He spits on the floorboards beneath his feet and looks at Spencer.
“You need to handle your bitch,” he says. “I don’t want her actin’ up like this when Mr. Zavala gets here.”
He gives me one final withering look, then walks out of the cabin, slamming the door shut behind him. Spencer turns back to me, a strange look on his face.
“He’s everything you want to be, isn’t he?” I ask.
“Shut up or I’ll give you more of what he just gave you.”
I scoff. “You don’t have the balls, Spencer. You may talk tough when you’re around guys like him, but I know who you really are. I know what a coward you are.”
“I’m warning you, Kasey. Don’t push me.”
A wicked smirk crosses my lips as he stares me down. All I need to do is keep pushing him and get him to snap. The thing about Spencer is that when he gets to a certain point, when he’s flustered and pissed off, he makes stupid mistakes. And if I can push him far enough, I may get him to do something stupid and give me a chance to get the hell out of here.
“Do you know why I fucked that biker last night?” I ask.
“Because you’re a whore?”
“Because I wanted to feel what it was like to be with a real man for a change. And let me tell you, it was good. It was really good. He did things to me I never knew—”
“Kasey, you will shut your fucking mouth right now if you know what’s good for you.”
“In all the time we were together, I never came as hard as I did last night. Or as many times,” I muse. “But then, if I’m being honest, you never actually made me cum, so…”
Spencer is out of his seat and coming at me in a heartbeat. I brace myself and wait for it. And just as his arm is lashing out toward me, I throw myself at him, knocking him backward and we topple into the table in a heap of sprawling limbs. The table crashes as it turns over and I twist my body, contorting myself under him to land on the phone he dropped.
The breath is driven from my lungs when he lands on me, but I bear it. As he scrambles to get off me, I quickly shove the phone down to the front of my pants as I get to my feet in one smooth motion. Spencer grabs me by the arm and slaps me. If he’s trying to be like X, he’s got a long way to go. I’ve slapped myself harder than that. But he scowls and positions himself in front of me like he’s a big man who’s just put me in my place.
But I need to play the part, so I cower and duck my head, acting as if he’s just hit me hard enough to make me submit. Throwing my hands up as if to ward off another blow, I cut a glance at him, doing my best to look terrified.
“I’m sorry, Spencer. Please don’t hit me again. I’ll behave,” I cry.
He flexes like he’s thinking about hitting me again, a slow, satisfied smile on his face.
“I trust you learned your lesson. I’d hate to have to repeat it,” he says. “Believe it or not, I don’t enjoy being this rough with you, but you made me do this, Kasey. You pushed me to this point and brought this on yourself.”
I nod, doing my best to look submissive. “I know. I’m sorry. Please, I’m sorry.”
The key to managing Spencer is something I learned a long time ago. Most of the time, I haven’t cared enough to expend the effort, but I’ve always known how to make Spencer more compliant. All it takes is some gentle stroking of his ego. Letting him think he’s in control.
“I won’t push you again, Spencer. I promise.”
“See that you don’t,” he says as he smooths his hair back into place.
I make a show of touching my bloody lip as I put on my most pitiful expression as I look up at him.
“Can I please use the restroom to clean myself up? I ask.
He sighs, looking entirely put out. “Fine. Hurry up.”
Still keeping my head ducked down, looking like a whipped dog, I hustle to the door he’s pointing at and close it behind me. Gritting my teeth, I turn the lock as slowly and quietly as I can.
When I’ve sealed myself inside, I run to the window and frown at the narrow opening, through which it will be hard for me to squeeze, but if I have some time and a bit of luck, I might be able to do it. Sometimes, being a small girl has its advantages. Standing on the edge of the toilet, I look out the window, searching for landmarks.
I don’t know the area all that well anymore, but I’m hoping that something will jog my memory and tell me where I’m at. The adrenaline is flowing through me fast and thick, making my heart race. Beads of sweat roll down my back, making my t-shirt cling uncomfortably to my skin.
Not seeing anything useful at first, I’m just about to give up when my eyes fall upon an old, weathered statue of a deer. I almost don’t notice at first because it’s breaking down and moldering, and only vaguely resembling a deer. But it’s enough to give my memory the kick I need to tell me where I’m at.
Using the password that I’d memorized a long time ago, I open Spencer’s phone, click on the texting app, and start to key in my message.
“Kasey, hurry up in there!”
Spencer’s voice is muffled through the door, but the three quick bangs on it make the thing tremble in its frame.
“Almost done,” I call back.
“Hurry up!” he shouts again, followed by another three bangs.
My fingers flying, I finish the message and hit send, praying it goes through. That done, I scramble to the window and push on it as hard as I can, thinking it would be sealed shut by time and grime. It flies open with a sharp squeal and knocks me off balance. I yelp as I fall off the edge of the toilet, hitting the ground with a noisy clatter and a grunt of pain.
“What the hell is going on in there?” Spencer shouts.
I look at the open window, feeling every grain of sand slipping through the hourglass, knowing my time is almost up.
