NUMB - Judy Colella (good beach reads txt) 📗

Why was her behavior all right? Why didn’t you have a problem with it?”

He faced her, folding his arms, his thick coat making the gesture look uncomfortable. “Why do you think that? Maybe I had big problem with it. Had you not left, I may have had chances to explain that.”

“I didn’t wish to take the chance. Sorry.”

He knew she wasn’t, but he guessed she thought she’d try and convince him otherwise so that he might not harm her. “No, my dear, you are not sorry at all. If you were, you would have tried to be contacting me before now.”

“My memory came back.”

“I know. What of it?”

She frowned. “You were purposely keeping me from remembering by giving me some kind of medication. Why would you do that?”

He unfolded his arms and began to unbutton his coat. “I wanted to establish the bond between us before that happened. I have cared about you for a long time, my dear. Imagine, if you would, my horror at learning you are killed in plane crash! I was devastated! So imagine, then, my utter…delight when I see you that day at your mother’s house, and you were asking me if I could help you! It was like gifting from the gods! So I decided to help you with memory problem, but keep under my control this, until such time I thought is right to let you remember who you were.” As he’d been speaking, he had finished opening his coat and then removed it, dropping it on the floor.

“What are you doing, Dr. Kobienko?”

“Please, my love. Call me Yvgenyi.”

“Your ‘love’?”

“Yes. You are all I think about, all I want. But you cannot be mine until you have no other obligations. So. Where is your child?”

She gulped and began backing away.

“Tell me, Atarah, and I might think to be gentle with you.” He wouldn’t – at all – but if it made her trust him a bit, why not say he would?

“What are you going to do with my son?”

“Nothing. I – want to make sure he doesn’t cry.”

“Why would he cry?”

“Because he will hear us. I know you have been with no-one before now, so sounds of passion will be new to his young ears.”

“You mean rape.”

He shrugged and began undoing his shirt. “If you wish. Yes. Rape. I’ve waited long time to take you, Atarah. Long, long time. I’ve wanted to feel you under me for several years now, and can wait no longer. So where is the child?”

“Go to hell, Dr. Kobienko. I don’t care if you hurt me. I expect you to because you’re a freaking pervert and a sick son-of-a bi - ”

The end of the word was lost when he struck her across the face with a fist, sending her to the floor. “I’ll find him myself, then!” He called her a filthy word – they’d been speaking English, and he’d used the worst four-letter descriptive he could think of – and grabbed her by the hair, yanking her to her feet.

She was much taller than he and when she fought back, nearly broke free. But he was ready for this, and now hit her several times – twice in the stomach, making her double over, and then on the jaw, and this time succeeded in knocking her out completely.

“Good.” He dragged her into the bedroom, tossed her onto the mattress, and began looking around for two things – something to tie her up with, and the baby. He managed the former, having come across a box of yarn that she was using to crochet a blanket, but the latter was nowhere. “You must have hidden him in a closet then, yes? No matter. I deal later with him. But first, you.” He unwound a length of the yarn, folding it into a triple strand, and tied her wrists together. With some more yarn, he attached her bound wrists to the radiator behind the bed. Before doing any more, he began removing her clothes. This got him so excited, he didn’t consider the sounds he was hearing that should have been an immediate source of alarm.

In the other room, the front door had opened and someone came inside, the footsteps on the wooden floor slow, but getting closer. And then the sound of a gun being cocked.

That did register and he stood, whirling around. “You!”

“Yes, me. Did you think no one was watching you? That your movements had gone unnoticed? No, dear doctor, they have not. Especially not by me – I’ve been following and watching, biding my time.”

“What do you want?” He was breathing hard, the part of his mind that was still on what he wanted to do to the unconscious girl scrambling for his attention despite what his logic circuits were saying.

“You made me a promise, yet here you are, clearly leaving me out of your loop. I won’t tolerate that. No one lies to me.”

“I didn’t lie to you! I would have contacted you after I’d enjoyed her myself, exactly as we had agreed!” A lie he knew he wouldn't have believed himself.

“I doubt that. Besides, it looks like you’ve damaged her already. How much more damage were you going to do, my friend?”

“Quite a lot, to be honest. She betrayed me and needs to be punished. She’ll recover from what I do, but it may take a while. Unless, of course, you don’t mind having her in that condition?” He tried for a charming smile.

It didn’t work. The gun was pointing directly at his chest. “Liar. You don’t deserve her, and you betrayed me and my punishments don’t allow for recovery time.”

Terrified, Kobienko began to say something in his defense, but never got the chance to get the first word out. The first bullet went through his heart, the second between his eyes, and he fell, dead before hitting the floor.

“Stupid little man,” Dr. Chevon muttered, stepping over him. She went to the mattress and untied the young woman who was beginning to come around.

“What - ”

“Be quiet, Atarah. Kobienko is dead. I have saved your life.” She bundled the yarn into a thick knot and tossed it onto the man’s body. “But don’t think that was for free. I will require something in return.”

“What – ow. My stomach…”

“Yes, he hit you hard, it seems. Well, no matter. My price for this is you. I will leave now, but one day I’ll find you again. And considering who you are, that shouldn’t be difficult at all. When I decide I want you, I’ll be sure to get you when you have no way to fight or call for help. I won’t kill you, but when I’m done with you, I expect you’ll need a lot of time alone.” She smiled, and it was the same grotesque facial expression that had sent Atarah running from the clinic.

“I won’t thank you, then.”

“No, I didn’t think you would, child.” She leaned down and kissed Atarah on the forehead. “Don’t bother cringing like that. I’m not impressed. Farewell until another time.” Shoving the gun into one of her coat pockets, she went back out, but didn’t go downstairs. If anyone had heard the shot, there would be police heading that way.

At the end of the hall was a window, outside of which was a convenient fire escape. Perfect. Mission accomplished, doctor out of the picture, a new promise made.

And Dr. Chevon always kept her promises.

*17*

 

 

Someone had in fact heard the shot, but because he and the others were on the rooftop across the street, it would take some time to get downstairs, outside, across the street, and up to the apartment.

“I can’t believe you didn’t have her better protected that this,” Jax said, eyes as angry as his voice.

“From what we could tell, the doctor had no gun!” The operative jogging down the stairs behind him sounded genuinely shocked.

“Well, somebody did! Maybe that person we saw running to the back of the building who you claimed was irrelevant! Jett, are you okay?”

Ahead of him, Jett shook his head but didn’t stop or turn around. When he got to the bottom step, he sprinted out the door, and after a brief glance for traffic, dashed across to the apartment building where he was told Atarah was. Once inside, he took the stairs two at a time, and headed for the far end that would bring him to the front of the building.

By this time, neighbors on the same floor were peeking out through doors opened only the width of an eye. None of them, apparently, wanted to get caught in any crossfire if there were more shots.

The apartment door directly ahead hung open; one hand on the butt of the gun in the shoulder-holster he’d been given, Jett pushed the door open the rest of the way and went inside. A living room that was smaller than his walk-in closet at home; a door through which he could see what looked like the side of a refrigerator in one direction, a short hallway in the other; he went down the hall to another door that was ajar and shoved it open with one foot.

A girl had her back to him, a very tall girl with shoulder-length, auburn hair. She stiffened and turned. And stared, one hand going to her heart, her breath catching in a silent gasp.

Jett stared back, barely seeing the body stretched out in a frame of blood on the floor. Atarah. Every terrible moment he’d experienced throughout the past year had begun to wash off and become a meaningless puddle of deconstructed images. His life-source, once believed gone, was rushing to him. Quickly, he removed the gun and rested it with care on a small dresser by the door. When Atarah slid her arms around him he folded her into his embrace, breathing her natural, familiar scent, his heartbeat finding its twin.

They said nothing. It was, for now, over. After some time, she moved back from him enough to look up into his eyes and he noticed the bruise on the side of her jaw. He touched it with one finger, eyebrows drawn together in anger.

“It’s okay, Jett. I’ll tell you about it later. But there’s someone you have to meet. Come with me.” She ran her palm down his arm and grasped his hand, then tugged him toward the door.

By this time, the rest of the team had arrived: four CIA field agents and Jax. The agents pushed gently past the couple and entered the bedroom.

Jax, however, stayed where he was and greeted his sister-in-law with a warm smile. “Looks like we didn’t have to do anything after all – it’s good to see you, ‘Tarah.”

“You, too, Jax. I was about to go get…well, come with us.” She turned a brilliant smile on her husband and pulled him out the door, Jax going after them.

She brought them up to the third floor where she knocked on a door halfway along the hall. A woman poked her head out, looked up and down, and then waved the three of them inside.

She said something in Russian, which Atarah interpreted for Jett and Jax. “She asked if it’s it safe now.” To the woman, she spoke the same tongue, adding in English to the Kinsleys, “This is