The Ranch Ch. 09

"Like old times." Standing to leave, Mark's handsome mouth curved in thin smile that didn't reach his blue eyes.

"Mark?" Cory called after him.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think... do you think she's ok?"

"I don't let myself think about it," Mark answered with brutal honesty, his hand twisting the doorknob with unnecessary force. "But no, I don't. I think she's alive, and that's what matters."

"I shouldn't have left her," Cory muttered, wringing his hands.

"It wouldn't have made a difference, you were out cold when she was taken. You have nothing to be sorry for." The last thing Mark needed was for Cory to go to pieces.

"You gave me a chance to escape. You saved us," Cory said bitterly.

"Marco saved you. I wouldn't have found you without him. Not in time, anyway."

"He paid with his life."

Mark raked a hand though his hair. "We've been over this too many times. This could go around in circles for hours. Leave it, Cory."

Leaving the room, Mark took a sharp left down the hall, completely unaware of Rosa pressed against the wall to his right.

Pale and shaking, tears dampened her knuckles, held against her mouth to keep quiet. Drawing a shaky breath, she forced her limbs to relax and rehashed the words that seemed to twist a knife in her chest.

"Murdered," she repeated in a wretched whisper, bleakly staring at the wall in front.

They said upfront they couldn't give answers, and she realised it wasn't exactly a lie. Neither of them explicitly said they didn't know. But now it was apparent that they both knew her father was murdered. And Mark was there when it happened.

**********************************************

George sat at his desk, extremely still, gazing out the window. Frank, his face in bloodied tatters, hovered uncomfortably in the background. The injury was the least of his worries. After recent events, he was petrified of even being in the same room as George, but had no choice. Stanley was still missing, and a number of men were still searching the surrounds for his body.

Though George appeared serene, this was not necessarily a good sign. Anyone who knew George, knew to expect sudden, violent outbursts. And, to Frank's memory, these were by far the worst circumstances to ever befall George.

Frank jumped as the door opened on a knock, and Peter briskly entered.

Peter was George's assistant. He was tall, skinny, with dark brown hair slicked back from his brow. No one knew for sure if he was gay, but it was a common discussion point, given he took pride in wearing theatrical suits, and today's was an eye-wateringly vibrant royal blue. George tolerated Peter's eccentric tendencies because Peter was extremely organised, sharp, and had an uncanny ability to get to the bottom of things. It was Peter who found the Ranch, and discovered the distant link between Cory and Alex.

"Dom must be working with the cousin," Peter announced, but in this rare instance he really had no idea.

"The dead cousin?" George exclaimed with exaggerated curiosity. "Did Jesus revive him?"

Peter flinched. "We were under the impression-" he quickly came to his senses and continued. "There was an incident he could be linked to, but we don't know why, yet. Our girl supplier is in custody for murder and Greg was his contact. The supplier will expect to be bailed out soon, or he might-"

"He would not dare open his mouth. Is there anything relevant in this delightful update? My son's whereabouts perhaps?" George said quietly, his tone fast becoming deadly. Knowing he tested George's tenuous patience, beads of sweat gathered on Peter's brow.

"There was- it was difficult to-" Peter swallowed convulsively and he bravely stepped forward to hand over the only thing he had left to offer.

Teetering on a tirade, George snapped the photo from Peter's hand. Suddenly his eyes widened and he stiffened, feeling winded.

"Is-is this..." he hoarsely uttered, then pulled himself together with an effort. "How old is this photo?"

Peter let out a slow breath, grateful to have avoided violence so far. "It's a recent Polaroid. Probably taken at the scene, before-"

"That cannot be. It is impossible. That's-" George briskly shook his head. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again at the image in his hand.

Brow furrowed, his brain rapidly worked. The puzzle pieces clumsily collided in his mind, persistently bumping into each other with frustrated determination. Then suddenly, amazingly, all clicked into place with devastating impact.

"THAT, BITCH!" George suddenly roared, seizing a white vase and hurling it at the wall. "THAT- THAT FUCKING-!!!!!"

Frank and Peter exchanged a panicked glance as George savagely swiped the desk's contents to the floor and dropped to his knees, screaming as though in agony.

As the episode subsided, he continued to stare at the ground, catching his breath. Then, bizarrely, he began to chuckle. It was an eerie, good-natured chuckle, as though appreciating he had been cleverly pranked.

Again, Frank and Peter looked to each other for guidance but neither dared move as George laughed manically. As his mirth subsided, he remembered their presence.

"Do not worry," he coughed. Scornfully regarding their startled faces, he forced a calm smile and his black eyes gleamed ominously. "I may have been bested beyond all comprehension, but my mental facilities are still in check."

Reaching, his hand trembled slightly as he plucked the Polaroid from the ground and closely inspected it.

"Almost impossible," George sneered softly, showing his teeth. He rose to his feet and at the look on his face, Frank backed into the wall.

"We underestimated the cousin. Find out about him. Everything." George frowned at the photo in his hand, and tapped it thoughtfully. "Copy this and publicise it. See what turns up."

"A warrant?"

"No. Missing girl. In grave danger." He laughed at the irony. "Pack up. We are leaving."

"Running?" Peter spluttered, aghast at the sizable task thrown his way.

"Yes." George shook his head, frustrated. "Too much has gone wrong. Too many loose ends. Whatever the next 24 hours yields will determine our next course." He stared at the ground, deep in thought.

"I feel almost overwhelmed," he admitted. "The idea that my son recruited Greggory, and joined forces with those boys and the criminal cousin seems a little far-fetched. Almost as much as-"

Again his eyes darkly flared at the photo of Rosa, refreshing an unmistakable resemblance in his mind. George raised a balled fist, ready to bite into his knuckles.

"I'll find you, Minerva," he whispered, his mind whirling with horrible intent. "I'll make my absence in your life worth the wait."

**********************************************

"Slow down," Mark snapped, casting an irritated glare at Alex as they swerved out of traffic and onto the freeway. "I'm reconciled that my life can end at any moment, but I don't want it to unravel for a fucking speeding ticket."

"Sorry." Alex grimaced an apology. "I had to get away from that blue car. Did you see the driver? She looked like Dracula's grandmother. Aren't there age restrictions-"

In the back seat, Cory tuned out of Alex's savage road-rage and looked across at Rosa. Arms crossed, hair plaited down one side, she blankly gazed out the window. She had cooperated with every rushed step of their leaving without question. It was out of character and Cory was surprised Mark didn't pick up on it. Then again, Mark never paid Rosa any attention if he could help it.

The traffic became less and less as their journey progressed. Every five minutes or so, Cory again felt compelled to look in Rosa's direction. Maybe she was in shock after encountering Samson, he thought to himself, still trying to guess the source of her behavioural change. He just hoped it didn't have anything to do with that night she sneaked into his room and-

"Yes, but it's a different work environment," Mark dryly said, drawn into conversation with Alex. "Our idea of sending a message is a tad more subtle."

"Actually, I like to keep off the front-line," Alex replied.

"Alex," Cory suddenly interrupted, as a startling thought struck him. "Where is Bert?"

"Out of town."

"Out of town, or out of the country?" Cory asked sharply.

"Er-" Alex hesitated, trying to concentrate on the road.

Mark twisted in his seat to stare at Alex. "Alex- have you told him anything about this?"

"Apart from what he knows from the first meeting, of course not," Alex said irritably.

"So..." Mark tried to remain calm. "So, what- what if he comes back and-"

"Alex how could you not think-" Cory spluttered, horrified. Alex cut him off.

"Both of you shut the fuck up, and duck down," Alex said brusquely. Even Rosa broke her gaze from the window.

"What-"

"Now!" Alex growled with such violence, Mark and Cory complied. Taking calming breaths, Alex kept his gaze forward.

"I might be crazy. Opposite us at the lights. The Castillo boy," he murmured. "Mark, can you recognise him? Cory, stay down!" he ordered, as Cory restlessly shifted in the back at Dom's mention.

Mark painstakingly rose until he could get a second glimpse of the car diagonally opposite, then quickly bowed down. "Follow them," he ordered. "I can't remember what Dom looks like, but I recognise the man he's with. There's no mistaking that revolting blonde hair-do," he added scathingly.

"You must follow them!" Cory exclaimed, as the lights changed and the car zoomed past them.

"That's my intent," Alex replied sweetly through clenched teeth, hitting the indicator and waiting for enough cars to pass before making an illegal U-turn.

"Without breaking the law," Mark groaned, hearing the other drivers horning.

"Do you want me to lose them?" Alex snapped, accelerating. "You can sit up, but keep a hand over your face or something."

In the back, Cory began to lift off the seat, suddenly facing Rosa's left breast. He met her amused stare before quickly focusing on the current change of course. "But- the original plan-"

"Cory, the original plan stank," Alex said scathingly. "This one stinks almost as much."

"What are we doing?"

"They've obviously come from the direction we're headed," said Alex, matter-of-factly. "We'll kidnap Dom. Torture him for information, and possibly use him to trade."

"I don't think he's as precious to George as you'd expect," Mark said dryly, recalling how George spoke of his son with surprising contempt.

Alex shrugged. "Then, he's a loose end. George will want him, regardless."

"Ok," Mark conceded their new path had some merit. "I can't come close. He...er...he might recognise me."

"You know we're not walking up to shake his hand, right?" Alex fired back, angrily narrowing his eyes at the road. "Of course, he can't see any of us coming. He's not alone. We'll follow, and wait for an opportunity."

Rose listened with quiet interest, looking to her side at Cory, who had his eyes shut and was rubbing his temples, thinking of the mess they were in. Wishing she could hold him, comfort him, but knowing better, she turned back to look out the window.

The car was filled with tension. After a while, Alex sighed heavily and drummed his fingers on the wheel.

"This girl better be a demi-god," he murmured to himself, but everyone heard him. "I'm going into a fucking inferno, with a minor in the back seat."

"I'm nineteen," snapped Rosa, finally breaking her silence.

"We're still on the wrong side of the law," Mark remarked.

"We're not on the wrong side of the law," Alex quickly entered the discussion before another fight broke out between Mark and Rosa. Puffing his cheeks, he blew a long contemplative breath.

"We're on the wrong side, of the wrong side of the law," Alex reasoned, trying not to confuse himself. "All we need is a bargaining chip. We may be out-resourced, but there's a good chance they'll be content to hand the girl over if it means we'll be out of their hair. No woman is worth this fiasco. Then, we run for our lives. What?" he frowned, thinking Cory had made a noise in the back.

Cory frowned into one of the bags at his feet. "Alex, your phones ringing."

"That's impossible," Alex retorted, thinking of Sandy. "She knows better." A nervous pause followed, and he cast a glance to the revision.

"What?"

"Nothing," Cory hastily muttered, staring down with an expression that said otherwise. "Don't lose Dom."

"Cory?" Alex said warningly. So far, none of the group had truly seen the rough side of Alex, and new his tone made the back of Rosa's neck prickle with nervous tension.

"It was Bert. I didn't want to answer it."

Alex's broad shoulders were tensed as he grappled with the worry that surged through his chest. "Good," he bluntly agreed, but he was clearly unhappy.

**********************************************

"What a shame," George murmured, as the ringing cut off. Tossing the phone to Peter, he walked over to Bert, who was unconscious and still tied to the chair.

It was a cold basement, where George liked to carry out his interrogations. Next to Bert, an older man finished entering codes into a laptop and glanced up at George.

"Doesn't matter. We needed him to keep them on the line, anyway," he jerked his head in Bert's direction.

"Shall we wait for him to re-join us?"

"If he didn't cooperate before, he won't now," the man firmly concluded, snapping the laptop shut and packing up his equipment. "There's no point, unless you have time to waste."

"Definitely not. I do wish I had time to properly test his loyalty," George murmured with disappointment. "Get rid of him, quickly."

The sound of steel on concrete cut the air, as the spindly metal chair holding Bert was dragged from the room.

"I wonder if they're all working together. I wonder how far my Dominique's treachery extends. I want them to be...uncomfortable," he mused, dwelling on his runaway son. He clicked his fingers at Peter. "Send a cryptic text that they've been found. We need to flush them out."

**********************************************

"This is the best you could do?" Dom snarled, glaring around the cheap motel room.

Greg felt resentment stir as he watched his privileged companion complain.

"It's discreet, and that's what matters. Sorry, Dom, no Egyptian cotton duvet to rest your royal brow," he apologised in an exaggerated posh accent.

Dom ignored him, his attention now on the double bed from where Katie nervously watched them. Mouth gagged, wrists and ankles bound. Beautiful green eyes wide with terror.

"I want her first," Greg softly demanded, his eyes glowing with violent intent as he looked Katie over like a piece of meat.

"No," Dom said firmly, dumping one of their bags on a chair. "She's mine."

"You're not thinking I'll let you renege on our deal, Dom?" Greg gently probed as Dom approached the bed and Katie tried to edge away.

Dom shut his eyes as though his next words cut him. "Yes, I remember. And I won't double cross you. But no, you don't get her first. Come back in an hour."

"A whole hour?" Greg mocked, quite entertained. "You'll last that long?"

"Don't cause any trouble around here," Dom retorted, ignoring the jibe. "You know what I mean."

"Fuck right off," Greg responded scornfully, offended. "I've been doing this a lot longer than you."

When Dom glared back, Greg smirked and after a slight pause, left the room on a laugh.

"So, here we are," Dom said quietly, coming to sit on the bed as Katie wriggled back with justifiable dread. His arm shot out to seize her ankle to halt further movement, his fingers cruelling tightening.

"It didn't have to be this way. Come to this," he continued, as she shook her head helplessly. "But you had to run, didn't you?" Dom's chest quivered as he felt his anger rapidly increasing. "You had to draw enough attention to reach my father."

Dom climbed on top of her, pinning her to the bed between his knees. Katie's bound wrists pushed against his chest, and he leaned close to prove they were no match for his strength. "Now, this is our lot," he breathed against her neck as she moaned and twisted.

"I don't want to think about the future. I want to focus on now," he smiled against her delicate skin and pressed a hard kiss behind her ear. "And I'm sorry," he whispered into her ear. "I'm sorry I can't ungag you, not yet."

"Whefffff arrrrrr yfffffff akkkin muufff?" Katie pleaded through the gag.

"Where am I taking you? It doesn't matter," Dom answered, delighting in her fear, despite the circumstances being far from ideal. "Somewhere you'll never be able to leave me again."

Katie shook her head desperately. "EE'LL ILL UFFFT!" she cried through the gag, jerking her head to the door Greg exited. "EE'LL ILL-"

"He won't kill anyone without my say-so," Dom countered, but his voice lacked conviction. "Leave Greg to me, baby," he muttered, sliding a hand between them, he slipped it under her top. His cock began to swell as her soft breast filled his hand.

"I have you now. Yes, I do," he purred against the gag, and Katie's stomach lurched as his mocking dulcet tone brought back memories of his father's abuse.

Dom wanted to remove the gag and kiss her quite badly, but not badly enough to risk being found out. Until they had more privacy, the gag had to stay. His breathing became more uneven.

"I want to untie you," he said to himself, as though talking out loud to figure a puzzle. "But it could get too complicated..."

Almost as frustrated as she was afraid, Katie groaned into the gag as Dom roughly flipped her onto her front. She had to make him understand what Greg was, that he would be the death of them both. But she was in no position to explain. Her arms were completely useless beneath their combined weight, her ankles still tied.

"Nhhh, Ommm, nhhh, prrrrrrsss!" she begged. In one rough movement, his hands tugged at her pants and pulled them, along with her panties, down to her thighs.

"Oh, fuck," Dom panted, swiftly bending to fix his mouth to a bare, taut buttock. Katie screamed in pain as his teeth sank into her ass.

"Oh, shut up," he scoffed, peering down at the red bite mark, moving before his eyes as she struggled to kick out. "I didn't even draw blood." Catching sight of his reflection in the cheap mirror above the bed, face still bruised from Mark's ferocious beating, his eyes hardened and his mouth formed an ugly smile.

SMACK!

Katie shrieked and writhed against the bed.

Dom bared what teeth he had left at her, raising his palm again. "You, bitch."

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

"Are you glad you were such a little slut?" he growled, on the verge of losing control and screaming.

Katie's shoulders shook with sobs, the gag was damp with her saliva and tears. She hated Dom's spankings. They were humiliating, painful, and a sharp reminder of what followed.

"Did you really think you would better me?" Dom snarled. Conscious of noise levels, he experienced a fierce inner battle not to raise his voice.

Reconciled to her situation, Katie didn't try to answer. She continued to whimper and writhe as his palm bore down on her repeatedly.

"You never learn, do you?" he said a little breathlessly, pausing to undo the front of his pants.

"So fucking stubborn." His eyelids lowered with lust as he roughly spread her cheeks to inspect her pussy.

"Boy are you in for a hard fucking," he smouldered, digging his fingers into her reddened buttocks until she groaned for mercy. He leaned in to lick her, his tongue searching as deep as he could manage with her legs together. Then he spat on her pussy.

"I should dry-fuck you," he said, rearing up to grip her shoulders. "This is what you deserve," he sneered, one hand catching in her hair and balling into a fist.

"Do you understand?" he shook her roughly until her heard a muffled cry against the bed. "You are really going to understand me. You have so much to answer for. You are going to apologise. Yeah-"