Voyeur Ch. 10

This story went quite a while; it was originally meant to stop at the first chapter, hah. Thanks for all the awesome feedback and voting on this series, it was a pleasure to write. Hope you guys like it :)

NB to new readers - this is more plot conclusion than gratuitous smut.

x

****

Grumbling incoherently, Rachel rolled onto her back and realised Ray was gently shaking her awake. Being tenderly watched by a murderer whilst she slept was incredibly disturbing.

After nervously blinking, she finally found her voice. "H-How long was I...?"

"Not long," Ray murmured, smoothing unruly red strands from her forehead. "I didn't want to disturb you, but we really have to go."

Aware there was no point arguing, Rachel resentfully tensed. Ray noticed her feet lightly kicking under the blanket.

"I know, I know," he sighed, finding her mini-tantrum surprisingly cute. "You don't want to go. You're just going to have to trust me."

"I can't trust you," she mumbled, quickly sitting up when he tried to playfully pinch her wriggling toes. "Please-!"

"Hon, my brother wants to kill you," Ray disclosed with brutal honesty. "And I really don't want that to happen. Understand?"

"No," Rachel helplessly shrugged. "I don't understand anything."

Despite feeling exceptionally stressed, Ray found himself smiling. "You'll get it one day," he said, wondering how she'd grown on him in such a short space of time.

"I think you're just going to rape me forever," Rachel despondently muttered. Glancing up, she felt like sheltering under the blanket. Ray looked frighteningly pissed off.

"Don't-!" he broke off, struggling for the right warning. "I have never raped you, Rachel."

"That's not exactly true," she timidly debated, unable to resist answering a pretty ludicrous claim. Abduction, imprisonment and blackmail for the sole purpose of sex seemed kind of rapey, even if it wasn't violently threatening.

"Right," Ray said flatly, not willing to debate it now. They'd continue this conversation at destination. In bed.

Still eyeing her sternly, he reached for something on the ground. "Not very sexy, but you'll have to wear it."

"What is it?" Rachel frowned at the heavy-looking piece in his hand.

"Protective vest," Ray answered. "It might be big, but it'll have to do."

"Oh, God," Rachel said vacantly, staring at the khaki-green gear.

Seeing the protective-wear somehow made everything sink in. It was all real. She was a modern-day sex prisoner to an enamoured psychopath, and someone she didn't even know was determined to kill her. She wondered if she shouted 'CUT', whether a camera crew would appear out of nowhere and ask what the problem was.

"Can I have a kiss?" Ray asked, drawing her closer, his eyes on her mouth.

It seemed like a trick question and Rachel was extremely tempted to say 'no'. "Alright," she relented, though still lowered her head to tentatively avoid him.

Ray sighed against her temple and caressed her chin, guiding her face upward. He kissed her, his eyes closed, enjoying the quiet moment before the chaos.

"When we're clear, we can go anywhere," he murmured. "We can do anything. You have no idea, Rachel."

Swallowing, Rachel lightly shook her head in response. That offer didn't appeal to her at all, none of it did. But what she wanted didn't matter.

"You'll be fine," Ray softly assured her, seeming unnervingly genuine and mistaking her dazed realisation for blind terror. "I mean it. I can handle him. My feelings for you are..." he trailed off with a wince. "Never mind."

Very glad he didn't finish the sentence, Rachel docilely let Ray fit the vest on her.

***

Ben cautiously lowered onto his stomach beside Ahmed, who was busy peering through the scope of his rifle. An excruciating half-hour passed before Ben caved and tapped Ahmed's shoulder.

"What?" Ahmed whispered, still staring through the lens.

"I thought we were going in," Ben whispered back, trying not to sound critical.

"Ray is on guard. The perimeter will be reactivated. We wait for them to come out."

"Why don't we shoot his tyres?" Ben breathed.

Ahmed irritably shifted. "Because they'll retreat to the house. Following a predator into their abode is always a last resort."

Ben turned away and bit his knuckles, feeling more tortured than ever. Rachel was in the house; so close to them. She was captive to a hardened killer, and he had to sit and wait without knowing what kind of condition she was in.

***

Straddling the bough of a tree, Logan grinned down at the undisturbed sensor half a metre in front of him. Ray was so paranoid he'd probably emerge any second. Ray wasn't a procrastinator; he faced challenges head on and responsibly took care of them. Logan was almost certain he'd try an immediate runner.

"You'll forgive me one day, kiddo," he smirked, checking his weapon. "You might even thank me."

Pointing the gun at the house, he shut one eye and practiced his aim. He was a good-enough shot, and confident of fatally clipping the girl, so long as there was at least a metre between her and Ray. Not an ideal firearm for distance shooting, but he wasn't expecting to need anything specialised for a brotherly visit.

***

Hitching his bag across one shoulder, Ray turned to Rachel, who had sobbed consistently for the last twenty minutes.

"Wait until I reach for your hand," Ray ordered, cupping her tear-soaked cheek and holding her dismal gaze. "Do not step into the open until I reach for you. Understand?"

"I d-don't want t-to g-go," she miserably hiccupped, with a wistful glimmer in her eyes; a dwindling hope that Ray might magically change his mind. "P-Please, Ray, I don't w-want to g-go," she tearfully repeated, her breath hitching so uncontrollably it was difficult to speak.

It was like her new mantra. Though it was absolutely pointless, she couldn't stop saying it. This move felt like the final nail in the coffin that would seal a permanent distance from Ben. A definite, irreversible change that would ensure she never saw him again, and the pain of it was overwhelming.

When Rachel closed her eyes, she could still imagine Ben. She could feel the heat of his chest against her, his hand running through her hair, their bodies warmly entwined whilst they slept. She could picture his sexy smile and dark, hungry gaze. The idea of farewelling those experiences forever caused literal pain; a horrible dull ache through her chest, her stomach cramped.

"Not now, Hon." Ray's voice was sharp and foreboding, his eyes hard. "Breathe."

Rachel forced deep breaths with difficulty, telling herself there was no point being a sook. But that was easier thought than done.

"Good girl." Ray bent to press their foreheads together, angling for another kiss.

But Rachel dropped her head and cried into Ray's shirt as though the world was ending. She felt his chest expand against her cheek as he sighed deeply, then his arms closed around her. One hand smoothed consolingly up her neck and through her hair, massaging her scalp.

They stood that way for several minutes, until Rachel stopped hysterically sobbing and managed to regain control of her breathing.

"Good girl," Ray repeated. Rubbing her back, he could actually feel her nervous energy around them. "It's going to be fine, Hon. You'll be fine."

With Rachel in his arms, anticipatory pleasure warmed Ray's body. He couldn't wait to crack an ice-cold cider and get naked with her. When they were safe and alone, he would make things right. Rachel would learn to enjoy his companionship.

"Be good for me now, and I'll make it up to you," he huskily promised.

Rachel would have rolled her eyes if they weren't painfully tear-swollen.

***

The front door slowly opened, and Ben mouthed a number of obscenities as he observed Rachel's captor. The guy was clearly agile, and massive. He looked fucking strong. Rachel didn't stand a chance. Ben sharply exhaled, his body stiff with fury.

"Settle," Ahmed sharply cautioned, not taking his eye from the scope.

After what seemed like eternity, Ray reached behind and led Rachel out.

Ben jerked forward, and Ahmed's hand shot out to seize the neck of his shirt. "I won't warn you again."

"Why haven't you shot him?" Ben hissed, his heart twisting at Rachel's visible misery.

"He's too close to her."

"Bullshit! He's fucking two heads taller!"

"Quiet. She's vested up and he's not. That can only mean that he's..." Ahmed frowned. "He's guarding her from something."

Achieving the impossible, Ben forced himself to relax. From the small glimpse he got of Rachel, she looked tired, miserable, though thankfully alive and uninjured. But she was crying, and he couldn't stand it. He needed to know why; to make it stop. And now she was completely blocked from view by a man he wanted to slowly take apart with his bare hands.

"I made a mistake," Ahmed muttered, shifting against the soil. "The hostility isn't between..." he broke off and blinked. "Rachel is the problem. He's fleeing to protect Rachel, not himself."

"Protect her from what?" Ben said through his teeth.

"If I take him out now, whatever danger he's afraid of may have full advantage."

"What is he protecting her from?"

"We're about to find out."

"What are you going to do?"

"A warning shot; see if we can get Ray to react, and possibly draw the other party into the open."

***

Rachel lightly collided with Ray when he abruptly stepped back.

"Wait," he breathed sharply, listening.

The woods were abnormally still. Not the usual serene quiet. Watchfully silent.

Staring at the trees, Ray used a technique that worked for him in camouflage areas. He narrowed his eyes and deliberately blurred his vision; the surrounds merged into beige, brown and green. Then he glimpsed it. Reflective glass.

Rachel yelped when Ray turned on her in a flash, gripped her shoulder and shoved down.

Gunfire cracked through the silence, and a front window shattered.

"Ouff!" Rachel huffed, painfully adhered to the front porch. Ray crouched in front of her, she watched him pull a gun from the back of his pants and fire three shots.

Ahmed dragged Ben down the incline when he saw Ray aim, the ground immediately shuddered as the bullets slammed the other side.

"That bastard is good," Ahmed panted, rolling onto his belly and gesturing Ben to follow. "He sighted the scope. We'll have to use the short track."

***

The porch in Rachel's face suddenly vanished and she was airborne, her feet only touching the ground to push off again as Ray half-carried her by the vest. Before she could catch her bearings, she was thrown face-first across the car's back seat, cool leather skidding down her cheek, and dimly heard Ray growl at her to stay down.

In the next five seconds, Ray was in the driver's seat and the car started, sharply pulling away from the house. Hitting the accelerator as they entered the freeway, Ray glared at Logan's car parked fifty metres down the road from his driveway.

Without slowing, he found his gun, extended his arm and took a number of shots, managing to hit one front and back tyre.

Hearing gunfire, Rachel cried out and covered her ears, feeling jolted as the car went over bumps in the road at increasing speed.

"Hon." Ray's eyes were fixed ahead. "Put your seatbelt on."

When she didn't answer, he risked an irritable glance at the back seat. Rachel was curled up, still covering her ears.

"Rachel!" He barked, his eyes flaring at the road in front. "Belt!"

"I can't!" she sobbed.

"Jesus Christ," Ray said through his teeth, checking the rear-view mirror.

Logan knew his house, in and out. He knew what was in the garage. Normally Ray would be seething about his brother potentially scratching his expensive motorcycle. Now, he wished he'd destroyed it in advance. The bike was replaceable. Rachel wasn't.

On this aggravating fact, Ray viciously pulled to the curb, quickly moving to the back seat to push Rachel up and buckle her in. Soon after, the tyres screeched as he pulled out again.

"Now, you can go to pieces," he snapped, his heart beating annoyingly fast at the thought of losing her.

***

Ahmed hauled Ben to his feet and shoved him back the way they came. "Get back to Brian. Start the car."

"But-?"

"Run!" Ahmed growled, widening his eyes as Ben suddenly levelled a handgun at him. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Eeeeasy."

The icy drawl came from behind Ahmed, who turned to realise Ben aimed at a man peering interestedly down the incline, his pistol on Ahmed.

"Who are you?" Ben demanded; his aim surprisingly steady.

"Well, you look familiar," Logan smirked at Ahmed.

"I don't know you," Ahmed carefully answered, his fingers twitched along his rifle. "We just want the girl."

"You shot at my brother," Logan coldly accused, stepping down the incline.

"We just want the girl," Ahmed slowly repeated. "We don't want to kill anyone."

Logan's eyes flickered to the large sniper in Ahmed's hands. "You didn't bring a gun like that to extract a hostage without casualties."

"It's not a hostage situation," Ahmed levelly replied. "All we want is the girl."

A distant rumble carried their way, and Logan sighed with both relief and impatience. Ray had obviously reached his vehicle and taken off.

"I don't want to kill you," Logan told Ahmed, still aiming. "I think we should talk."

"Maybe you should drop your weapon," Ben said, unable to keep the aggression from his voice.

Logan's eyes narrowed and he angled his head at the gun in Ben's hands, then threw back his head with a genuine laugh.

"Maybe your weapon should be loaded?" he grinned. "Sniper, please," he said, extending his free hand to Ahmed, who had closed his eyes as Ben realised his humiliating oversight. Somehow, he'd released the magazine. The gun he pointed was empty.

Ben and Ahmed grimly watched Logan accept the sniper, using his thigh and one hand to dismantle a critical part of the rifle.

Logan straightened up. "What a small world. I remember you," he nodded to Ahmed. "But you wouldn't remember me. I was young." His gaze moved to Ben. "Who's this guy?"

"Trainee," Ahmed promptly answered.

Logan blew out a thoughtful breath. "He's a bit old, isn't he? Thought you only work with teenagers." He pointed to Ahmed's waist. "Please be very, very careful when you dump the rest of your weapons."

"I haven't-" Ahmed quietly began, changing his mind when Logan bared his teeth in an angry grin, eyes flared with a deadly warning.

"Don't pull that shit. We both know you're saddled up."

Stone-faced, Ahmed very slowly extracted two pistols from the back of his pants, a taser from his front pocket, a small, golf-ball sized grenade that was attached to his ankle, and finally dropped a curved, serrated knife to the weapon pile.

Logan shook his head, very pleased. "Was that so fucking difficult?"

Looking very surly, Ahmed pursed his lips. "We're wasting time."

"Are we?"

"Your brother is very skilled."

"I know that!" Logan spat. "I fucking made him."

"Once he gets out of range, you'll never find him again."

"I'll always find him," Logan scoffed, though seemed a little uncertain. "You're a bigger problem for me. I don't like killing people I know," he mused, his gaze transferred from Ahmed to Ben. "Or don't know. But you did try to take out-"

"I could have easily killed him, and you know it. I fired a warning shot. Just let us go," Ahmed quietly reasoned.

"Nah," Logan said sinisterly. "Question time."

Still with the gun on the men, he lifted his leg and felt for the hunting knife always stashed by his calf. A cracking stick caught his attention and Logan slightly staggered, peering into the bushes beside him. "What the fuck?"

Marcus drunkenly launched from hiding like a wild animal, took hold of Logan's thigh, and bit him.

"THE FUCK!" Logan screamed, kneeing Marcus in the face with his other leg and firing as Ahmed lunged, knocking the gun from Logan's hand.

"Get the gun!" Ahmed shouted to Ben, fighting to get Logan into a headlock.

In a flash move Logan elbowed Ahmed's ribs, dealt a vicious punch under his chin, and managed to throw himself over the incline as Ben fired. Blood poured from Ahmed's mouth, but he didn't seem to notice. He snatched the gun from Ben and ran after Logan.

Gunshots followed. Ben stared at Marcus, sprawled, blood seeping down the neck of his shirt. He jerked out of his daze when Ahmed returned.

"I couldn't get a clear shot, and he reached the house," Ahmed panted, inspecting Logan's weapon. "We're not here for him. We have to find Ray, before he disappears."

"Marcus," Ben numbly pointed.

"He knew the risks." Ahmed spat a wad of blood to the ground and fixed his sniper.

They sprinted back to Brian, who leaned against a tree, looking pale. "What happened? Where is he?" he asked.

"Ray took off with her. Ran into his brother," Ahmed briefly answered. "Give me the keys, I need to drive."

"I mean, where's Marcus? He ran off, I couldn't stop him," Brian faltered.

Ben couldn't look at him. Ahmed dropped a hand on Brian's shoulder and squeezed. "He saved us. Let's go."

Brian and Ben managed to get into the back of the car as Ahmed took off, driving like a maniac and looking like Count Dracula.

"Here," Ahmed passed a device to Ben. "Navigate. We need to intercept them before they reach the clearing."

"What clearing?"

"For the flight."

"What flight?"

"Stop asking questions," Ahmed snapped, wiping fresh blood from his chin and spitting some out the window.

Ben finally glanced Brian's way. Brian was belted in, looking serene but extremely pallid.

"I'm sorry about Marcus," Ben muttered, shaken but not undeterred from his purpose.

"Parasites don't die so easy," Brian loosely shrugged; his voice robotic. "He'll be ok."

Ahmed met Ben's eyes in the rear-view mirror. "Check the screen, count the turnoffs from our starting point and tell me when we're approaching the eleventh."

Ben squinted at the map on screen. "We're at the fourth."

Ahmed's jaw clenched and he hit the accelerator. "They already have a head start," he called over the engine. "It's extremely important we get there first."

"You're going to cut them off," Ben realised, feeling suddenly anxious. "Ahmed, Rachel is with him!"

"They'll just clip us. She'll be alright." It sounded more like a hopeful intention than a confident guarantee.

"No, she-!" Ben shook his head. "What if the car rolls and she doesn't have a belt on? What if-!"

"Ben, if we lose them now there is no getting her back, understand?" Ahmed barked, his eyes burning.

"I don't care! I want her to live!" Ben shouted.

"Keep your goddamn eyes on the navigator!" Ahmed raged, slightly turning the wheel to avoid a log on the path.

"Ninth," Ben gruffly called, focusing on the screen that bounced before his eyes with Ahmed's erratic driving.

Trees whistled by as they sped along the narrow dirt track, seemingly at a slight incline. They were approaching higher ground.

"Tenth." Ben's hands were shaking. "The next turn is the eleventh."

Ahmed drew a deep breath, slowing down. "Ben, scoot close to Brian. The left side is taking the impact."

They waited at the fringe, listening. The road was deserted.

"How much have we gained?" Ben whispered.

"About ten kilometres," Ahmed softly answered, carefully listening.

Soon the ground rumbled with a vehicle approaching at speed from the distance. Ahmed slowly inched the car forward, then abruptly swerved out.