Savage Night - Allan Guthrie [88]
The pleasure she'd get from hitting the little shit was almost worth the risk. She was going to die anyway.
Yep.
She backhanded Jordan across the mouth.
He yelled.
Savage said, "Hey, what the fuck, what the fuck, did you do that for?"
Jordan was still yelling. Blood oozed from his bottom lip. It was swelling already. His teeth were stained red.
She said, "I should have listened to my dad and killed the little bastard."
Savage touched her neck with the gun. Pressed it into the skin under her chin. His mouth hung open like he was about to say something. But he didn't.
"Go on," she said, pressing her foot on the accelerator. "Do it." See if he dared.
What she didn't expect was Jordan to punch her in the mouth. She was still in shock when he punched her a second time.
His little kid fist had sharp knuckles. Her lip stung like a bitch.
"Stop it," Savage said, grabbing Jordan's arm, in so doing moving the gun away from her neck. "We don't want an accident. Not while she's driving."
Jordan said, "It hurt."
"Good." Effie sucked her lower lip. The skin was broken on the inside. Tasted raw. Didn't seem to be bleeding though. "Why are you lying to your dad?"
"Why are you lying to him?"
"You know I never intended to kill you. I was trying to keep you alive. Why make up all that crap?"
"I'm not making it up."
Savage was going to believe his son, whatever she said. She was dead. Or as good as. But she had to stay alive, somehow. She couldn't kill Savage if she was dead. And she had to kill him. He'd killed Grant, he'd killed Martin, and God alone knew what he'd done to her bastard dad. She'd been wondering about that for some time. Maybe she should ask.
***
PARK WOKE UP with a start. He always woke up with a start. Legacy of prison. But he didn't usually wake up on the floor, bollock naked, with a pain in his ribcage that hurt like misery when he breathed. He tried to sit up. His ribcage told him not to. But he persevered. He had to get out of here before the police arrived. He'd delayed them, but sooner or later they'd come looking for their missing pals.
And he had to tell Effie and Martin not to come here as they'd planned. It wasn't safe any longer.
Yeah, time to go. Check on Liz first. Get some clothes on.
Liz.
Fuck, was that why he was alive? Savage had found Liz, done something to her, something he wanted Park to see?
Had he taken the sword and …?
No, the sword was lying right there next to him. Could have rolled on top of it, given himself a nasty cut.
Maybe Savage had shot her.
"Liz," Park shouted. "Liz?"
Something rattled as he pushed himself up. Then he realised why Savage hadn't killed him. The fucker had decided it'd be much more fun to leave him chained to the bed.
This required some thought.
The closet chain was indestructible. No point trying to chew through it, or pull it apart, or cut it in two with the sword. Couldn't move the bed cause he'd screwed the legs to the floor with L-brackets.
So there was no way he could get to Liz to find out if she was okay.
But Savage didn't know about Liz. He couldn't know about her.
Park looked at his watch. Effie and Martin should have been here by now. He just had to hope they'd arrive before the cops.
Sure. They would. Unless…
Oh, fuck.
Savage might have stopped them. Called them, let them know he'd got free, that the police were on their way. That's why Savage had left him alive. That's why he'd left the sword. Because if Effie wasn't coming, there was only one way Park could escape.
Park couldn't do that. Never mind the pain, he'd pass out from the sight of his blood. He'd just have to sit here and wait.
Sit and wait. Get caught. Go back to prison. And stay there forever, no chance of parole, yet again. He'd killed a couple of cops. He was well fucked.
Meanwhile Savage would remain alive. And free.
That wasn't right. There had to be a way out.
But Park couldn't see it just now. He tried to figure out how Savage's mind was working. He was feverish and insane and no doubt simmering with rage, but