| Subject: Entropy Chapter 14 |
Author:
Becca
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Date Posted: 14:39:29 08/01/02 Thu
In reply to:
HeyBecca
's message, "Entropy" on 19:23:01 02/10/02 Sun
Entropy 14—A Tale of Three Cities
“The clock tells her that time is slipping, minute hands and seconds sticking. There's something she might be missing. The world turns and we get dizzy. Is it spinning for you, the way it's spinning for me?”
--Bono, Last Night on Earth
**Los Angeles**
“We are supposed to be working,” V complained as she sat in the front seat of Sly’s pale blue 1955 Chevy Convertible.
Sly glanced at her and frowned. “We are.”
“Sly, man, this is a sweet automobile,” Steven gushed from his place in the backseat. Emily and Gia, who sat next to him, rolled their eyes. “Why do you spend so much time in New York if you have a ride like this out here?”
“Contrary to popular belief, I’m not the butch car guy that some people think I am,” Sly said with a snicker. “I have no idea what is under the hood or how to change my own oil. I just thought it looked cool.”
Emily smiled and reached out to touch his shoulder, “You’re still a stud to me, sweetie.”
“Thanks, babe,” Sly winked.
With a frustrated sigh, V tried to calm herself. “Working, people, we aren’t getting anything done. We have to find out why Kristina was spending so much time out here when her job was in New York and her life was in New York.”
“If you’d just chill, for one moment, you’ll realize that we are, in fact, working,” Sly explained. “We’re going to Styles—it’s the in place for the in people to go. If Kristina was doing anything shifty out here, someone there will know. Trust me, Agent Ardonowski, I’ll nab us our bad guy…er, girl.”
“Wait, Styles? Oh my gosh, I haven’t been there in forever,” Gia exclaimed. “Is Baylor still bartending?”
Sly nodded, “Yep.”
Gia smiled and grasped Steven’s arm. “He makes this killer drink called the . . . oh, the Wave Break. I don’t know what is in it, but it is to die for. I love LA!”
“This is not a vacation,” V informed as she shifted in her seat to look at the group in the back. “Do you people realize that? Just because LA is sunny and fun doesn’t mean that is why we are here. Sarah Webber is missing, Kristina is missing, Helena Cassadine is most likely involved. This is dangerous stuff. If we are hanging out with celebrities and drinking Wave Break’s we’ll lose our focus and that is precisely when this will become deadly.”
“Listen, V,” Gia shot. “I’ve lived through this Spencer/Cassadine War. I’ve seen people die and get hurt. You don’t have to tell me how dangerous this is. I know it. I lived it. You may be a secret agent who can detach and focus on the mission. But if I sit still and think too long about getting mixed up in this again, about being a target of Psycho Granny, I won’t make it. So, I’m going to pretend life is normal, I have to or I won’t make it through this thing.”
**
Sly stood out on the terrace of Styles, the large and crowded LA hangout. It was the middle of the day, but the club slash restaurant was already teaming with the rich and famous.
With Sly was a woman who looked like a young Kim Bassigner. She wore dark sunglasses and black pants with a sheer black blouse. Her fawning over Sly was causing a mild case of discomfort, but he knew she was the one he needed.
Mary Lang was one of the most well known gossip columnist in LA. She knew all the stars and all the dirt, but what made her useful to Sly was she knew all the dirt on her competition. Kristina was her biggest competition from the East Coast.
“So, baby, what brings you to LA. Please tell me we’re going to see your handsome face on the screen soon,” Mary gushed, placing her hand on his.
“Well,” he yawned, removing his hand from hers. “I’m sorry to disappoint, but I’m still just chilling, taking some time off,” he slid his hands in his pockets and flashed her a smile. “But I do have a bit of juicy gossip—for a price.”
Mary took a step back from the Sly, looking at him skeptically. “A price?”
“Oh, don’t get all tensed up, I’m not talking money.” Sly sipped his vodka and tonic before continuing. “I need some information that I know you have. So, an even trade.”
“Why didn’t you just say so, baby? I’m always willing to help you.”
Sly nodded, took another sip, and nodded again.
“I need to know why Kristina Cassadine has been spending so much time out in LA, and who she has been with,” Sly said casually.
“That’s all? I thought you wanted dirt on, I don’t know, a certain rival of yours? I hear he is up for the lead in the latest Chris Nolan project,” Mary said, hoping to entice the actor back to work.
“Chris Nolan?” Sly flinched, a bit jealously. He pushed the green eyed monster to the side, remembering that what he was involved in was bigger than any movie. “Don’t tell me anymore, you may just pique my interest.”
“Baby, you would so kill in this role. But, I’ll say no more,” Mary sighed. “So, you want to know about Kristina? The Wannabe Royal Pain in My Ass? Any particular reason why?”
“Well, you know my cousin Lucky’s half brother is Nikolas Cassadine. Kristina is his cousin—no, aunt. Well, the Prince is a bit anxious that she’s leaving the flock. He asked me to ask around . . . nothing too exciting.”
Mary nodded as she thought. “I don’t know what she’s been doing out here, but she’s been seen with a devastatingly gorgeous man. Colin . . . Colin . . . Lynn. Tall, strikingly handsome, a slick accent. Just to die for.”
“Colin Lynn?” Sly repeated, a chill slipping down his spine. “Are you sure? That’s his last name, Lynn, and he’s not American?”
“Why, do you know him?”
Sly shook his head. “No, not really. The last name is just familiar. Do you know what Kristina and Colin have been doing?”
“They spent a lot of time at his beach house in Palm Springs. I’m not sure if it was of the carnal variety, but I know Kristina wasn’t out here working. There was a lot of good gossip that has gone down that hasn’t made it in the Daily News.”
Sly finished the last of his drink, smiled, and gave Mary a quick kiss on the cheek. “Address?”
“65 Sun Drive, big, white, you can’t miss it,” Mary said. “But you won’t find anything there.”
“Why not?”
“Colin moved last week. A little birdy told me he was moving to Europe. Not sure exactly where, but I’ve heard a small little fishing village about ten miles south of Naples, and, also, Moscow.”
“Moscow? Why the hell would he go there?”
“Can’t say, maybe he likes Russian literature?” Mary smirked, “My info?”
“You might want to give Nicole Kidman a call,” Sly said with a wicked smile. “Seems she’s been getting cozy with a very unglamorous but very cool new guy. You’d have seen it yourself, Mary my dear, had you made it to Nighttown’s opening.”
“Don’t remind me,” Mary groaned. “My kid sister picks Friday night to go into labor with her first child. But what can I say, some things are more important than gossip.”
“You’re preaching to the converted,” Sly said with a wink. “Thanks for the info. And, Mary, when I decide to work again—you’ll be the first to know.”
Sly rushed inside to find the rest of the group. He spotted Emily and was by her side in a flash.
“Em, we’ve got to go,” Sly said as he grabbed her hand. “We have to get to . . . somewhere. Italy, Moscow, Greece…somewhere. But this has to be stopped, now.”
“Sly, calm down, what has you so spooked?” Emily asked, grabbing her friend by the arms.
“I’ll explain everything on the way—where are the others?”
“Downstairs at the bar,” Emily noted. “Does this have to do with Lucky? Is that why we have to go to Greece?”
“Something like that, I’ll explain on the way to the airport,” Sly muttered as his eyes scanned the bar for V, Steven, and Gia. “Whatever it is, it’s really messed up.”
**Pennsylvania**
“Where are we?” Natalie groaned. They had rented a van and drove to Pennsylvania; currently Jason was in the front, driving, with Carly in the passenger seat. Jax was in the back, napping, while Maxie read a magazine.
“Pennsylvania,” Jason deadpanned.
“No shit,” she snapped back. “I meant the city. Is this…what is it, Wilkes-Barre?”
“No,” Jason replied.
“Carly! Where are we?” Natalie asked impatiently.
“Uh,” she looked at the map, “Hazleton. Kind of bland, huh? They even spelled it wrong.”
“Can I just ask how we got stuck in Pennsylvania? Why couldn’t we go to Greece or LA? Why here?”
“We’re just that unlucky,” Jason muttered. He stared at Carly who was suddenly glaring. “What? Oh, no, I didn’t mean it that way . . . you are far too sensitive when it comes to your cousin.”
“No she’s not,” Natalie interjected. “They are family, they love each other. She has every right to look at YOU like you’re an ass if she feels you’re ragging on Lucky.”
“Oh gosh, this Lucky worship is disgusting,” Jason groaned.
“Well, it’s better than Jason worship, oh Sainted one,” Maxie snapped without even looking up from her magazine.
Jason looked in the rear view mirror and frowned. “Did I ask you?”
“Like I need your permission to talk?” Maxie asked. “Get real.”
“Ok, kids, let’s stop bickering. Here, Jason, pull into this gas station,” Carly informed as they neared a Sheetz Gas Station. She looked to the back, at Jax, and smiled. “Jasper, wake up you big lug.”
“What, what?” he muttered, jolting upright. “I wasn’t asleep.”
“Yeah, and I think Jason is just the sweetest man in the world,” Natalie muttered as she jumped out of the van. “Come on, kid, let’s go get a cup of coffee.”
“I don’t drink coffee,” Maxie noted as she followed Natalie. “Caffeine is so bad for you.”
Natalie rolled her eyes as the entered the building.
“Do you need anything?” Jax asked as he looked at Carly with a grin.
“No, I’m good,” she said before pulling him close for a quick kiss.
With a lopsided grin Jax turned and followed to where Natalie and Maxie went.
“Must you do that?” Jason asked while he pumped the gas.
“Do what?”
“Kiss Jax.”
“Shut up, Jason,” Carly said seriously. “He’s a good man. He’s proved to be a better man than my ex-husband.”
“Sonny didn’t do anything wrong,” Jason noted. “It’s not his fault.”
“He slept with Alexis—ALEXIS. Sure, we were divorced, but he was going around in a huff because I kissed someone. Yet he was allowed to have sex with Alexis? How is that not wrong?”
Jason stared at Carly. He had no answer.
“So how is Michael?”
“Amazing, he’s growing up so fast, Jason,” Carly said with a sigh. She hated how Jason still had a knee jerk reaction to defend Sonny, but she couldn’t do anything about it. So she had to let it go. “He’s so good, too. AJ and I haven’t had any troubles. He a really good kid.”
“I always knew he would be. Even if--.”
“Don’t go there, Jase, don’t even go there. AJ has changed so much since Courtney came into his life. I may not want to marry the guy, but he’s a good father.”
**
“The great mystery of life,” Natalie said as she stood in front of the cooler, Jax by her side. “Diet Coke or Diet Pepsi. It is nearly an impossible choice.”
“Hardly,” Jax noted. He pulled open the cooler door and snatched a bottle. “Diet Dr. Pepper, Nat, is the only way to go.”
“But you can’t drink Dr. Pepper everyday,” she argued with a smirk. “You’d get sick of it. But you never get sick of cola. It’s the everyday soft drink.”
“Do you have something against the Pepper?”
“Well, it’s like the ugly sister of birch beer, for one,” Natalie explained. “Secondly, I don’t get the name. What is it a doctor of? And are peppers really used in the recipe?”
“You’re a Dr. Pepper Pooper,” Jax teased. “Peeper, Pepper, Pooper, Popper!”
“I’m rubber you’re glue,” Natalie said, sticking her tongue out at him.
“Oh my god,” Maxie groaned as she came across the childish bickering. “Which of the three of us is still technically a teenager? Huh?”
“Actually, Maxie,” Jax began. “We were acting like eleven year olds, not teenagers.”
“So there,” Natalie replied, placing her hands on her hips.
Maxie looked at the duo, trying to figure out when she fell asleep and why she was dreaming about Jax and Natalie.
“Hello, am I the only one who remembers that there is major shit happening?”
Jax sighed and wrapped an arm around the girl’s shoulders. “Listen, Maxie, you have to relax and breathe. If you don’t, you won’t make it to tomorrow. A little bit of levity goes a long way in living a long, happy life.”
“Happy?” she asked in shock as Jax and Natalie led her to the checkout counter. “We’re living a nightmare, right now. How can it be happy?”
“Because we’re the good guys,” Natalie explained. “And when it is all over, we’ll get to go back to our lives and know we were the good guys. Don’t over analyze it, kid.”
“Maybe I am too young, because I don’t get it,” Maxie shook her head. She placed her bottle of water on the counter and quickly paid.
“Here, Jax, get this for me,” Natalie said as she handed him her Diet Coke.
“You’re lucky I’m very, very…very rich, or I’d say no,” Jax muttered, not realizing Natalie wasn’t paying attention.
Natalie wandered over to the magazine rack. Jason stood in front of it, staring blankly at the glossy covers.
“I thought you didn’t do pictures?” she asked, jolting him out of his stupor.
“What do you want, Natalie?” Jason asked with a frown. He looked at her, the memory of their encounter the previous day invading his thoughts.
“Just wanted to see if you were done pumping,” she paused, adding with a seductive smirk, “the gas, that is.”
“Are you trying to be clever?” Jason muttered, shaking thoughts of Natalie, naked, out of his mind.
“No, not particularly.”
“Then what?”
She leaned forward, whispering in his ear, “Once we finish this great van search…maybe I’ll think about making the most of our shitty relationship.”
“Huh?” he stared.
Natalie laughed, “Oh, Morgan, what am I going to do with you? Remember yesterday?” She looked into his icy blue eyes and grinned. “Of course you do. Anyway, I’m feeling like closing that deal. I figure, once we get it out of the way, it’ll be out of the way and we won’t have this annoying sexual tension between us.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, we could then just hate each other without having to think ‘damn, I want his body on top of mine’.”
It was Jason’s turn to smirk. “You think that?”
“The moments when I think you are the most vile, oddly, are the moments when I think that.”
“You’re one fucked up broad, you know that?”
“Sweetie, you don’t get as far as I have without being so,” Natalie told him with a wink.
Jason watched her stride towards the door and then leave. He groaned, shaking his head in frustration.
“Oh,” Carly muttered as she passed him on the way to the check out, “just sleep with her already.”
**Greece**
“I can’t believe people live like this,” Zander sighed as he walked around the living room of the guesthouse on the Cassadine island.
“It is pretty impressive,” Alison observed, blushing as Zander gave her a skeptical look.
“You are Alison Barrington, right?”
“I haven’t been a Barrington in a long time, Zander. My family’s money and lifestyle . . . I rebelled against that forever ago. Even so, this guesthouse is as big as the main house on the Barrington estate in Port Charles.”
Zander chuckled. “This may be Greece, but the Cassadines certainly haven’t lived a Spartan existence.”
Alison moved into a musty old study. Her eyes traveled along the rows of bookshelves that lined the walls.
“Oh my gosh, it’s like a library in here,” she muttered. “Zander, you’ve got to see this.”
“This is a real Russian military Medal of Honor,” Zander said, showing her the medal he removed from the showcase in the hallway. “Rumor has it, the Cassadines were related to the famed Romanovs.”
Alison smiled. “Do you believe all the rumors you hear?”
“Only the ones that sound plausible,” he noted. “And everything I’ve ever learned about the Cassadines tells me to never question the rumors about them. They are probably true.”
Zander placed the medal on the table and moved to the side of the room that had captivated Alison. “These are all the same, more or less” he noted, pointing to a row of books. “What are they? Encyclopedias?”
“I don’t know,” she pulled one of the books out, a sheet of dust flittering down causing her to sneeze.
“Bless you,” he whispered, looking over her shoulder as she opened the book. “It’s in English, at least.”
“Oh, you know what this is?” she asked excitedly.
“Really boring?” he asked, reading a bit from the page she opened.
“Funny,” she said with a smirk. “No, it’s the Cassadine family history. Wow, this is really cool,” she walked over to the desk and sat down, looking to read the book.
“No, it’s not!” Zander said, suddenly angry. “Two days ago, you had a normal life, things were cool then. Now . . .now, you have creeps messing up your apartment and leaving threatening notes. It’s not cool. You’re a nice girl, Alison. This isn’t fair, you had a normal life.”
Alison shut the book and looked up at her partner in this mess. “Zander, I didn’t have a normal life, not really. I ran to New York City because I thought it was the only way I was going to get a normal life. But believe me, my life in Port Charles was nothing but normal. Hell, what is going on right now is more normal than what I went through in Port Charles.”
“Really? Somehow I doubt that,” Zander said seriously.
“Maybe I’ll tell you someday, Zander Smith, but for now, trust me,” Alison said sincerely. “Sure, I’m scared, but I’m not resentful or angry. Besides, if I were living my so-called normal life in New York I wouldn’t get to hang out with you. And I like hanging out with you.”
Zander smiled but suddenly felt guilty. “I have a—you should know, I’m sort of involved with someone.”
Looking up from the book, Alison gave Zander an incredulous look.
“Did you think I was coming on to you?” she quizzed him.
“What? No. I was . . . no, I’m . . . I was just saying,” he stammered, blushing.
“Really?” Alison folded her arms across her chest and laughed. “Get over yourself, Zander. You’re cute, kind of charming, but I’ve done the bad boy with a heart of gold thing, and I’m over it. You’re simply not my type.”
“Not your type? I’m not YOU’RE type?” Zander exclaimed. “Sorry, babe, but you’re not MY type. Pretty, misunderstood rich girl. Been there, done that, got my heart stomped on.” He paused, worried he said too much. “Besides, Alison, I am involved with someone . . . an incredible someone.”
“So that’s settled,” Alison declared. “We’re both not interested in each other.”
“Yeah,” Zander nodded his head. “Exactly.”
**
Some things change after a long absence. They look different, smell different, sound different. Like it is from a different part of your life. But some things, well, they stay hauntingly the same.
Hauntingly the same was the only way for Nikolas explain what being in his childhood bedroom felt like. He could see himself, as a boy, laying on the bed, propped up on his elbows, reading a great piece of literature. Or he could hear his uncle’s voice, helping him learn Latin at three years old. Or could he feel his grandmother’s disapproving stare as she visited him and explained how he had to take initiative and become more like Stavros.
He hated the island. He hated it more than any place he could remember. He would always have his cherished memories of Stefan, but he had no desire to go back in time to a place he always resented.
The Cassadine Island, more than anything, represented everything he worked to change about his family. And he knew that downstairs, in the basement of the mansion, his brother was facing the fears and pains that the Cassadines had inflicted on him.
Only a few stories below the bedroom where a young Nikolas grew up, Lucky was held prisoner and tortured.
“God,” Nikolas muttered as he sat on the edge of his old bed. They weren’t going to find anything on the island; it was a pointless effort. The only thing the island was going to do was bring Lucky pain.
“What’s that?” he asked the quiet of the room as his eyes fell upon something on the desk across the room. He got off the bed and walked to the desk, taking the photograph into his hands. As he stared at the image he could feel his entire body grow weak. A shaking hand covered his mouth as the photo fluttered from his fingers. “Dear God, she knows . . . everything.”
**
“You don’t have to do this,” Elizabeth whispered.
Lucky stood a few feet in front of her, at the threshold of his private prison. As he looked through the doorway into the room, he felt nothing. It unnerved him.
He had to feel something. This was the room he was held in for so long. Tortured in. Finally escaped from.
“Lucky.”
He shook his head but didn’t turn around to look at her.
“I—we have to check in here. There might be a clue or something,” he stated calmly.
“No, Lucky, WE don’t.” Elizabeth walked towards him, standing in front of him. She could feel him slip away as she looked into his eyes. “But if you do, we will. I will be with you no matter what.”
Elizabeth held her hand out to him. He looked at it, closing his eyes for strength, before placing his hand in hers. Slowly they walked into the cold, haunted room.
“You know, this wasn’t the first place they took me,” Lucky said as he moved through the room. Elizabeth stood, nearly frozen, near the door.
“Really?” was all she could say. She didn’t know what Sly and Carly were told, but Lucky never spoke to her or his parents about his captivity. And now he was, and Elizabeth was terrified. The idea of what Lucky went through was almost more than she could handle. But he survived it, she had to remind herself, and she would survive knowing about it.
“Yeah, the first place was in . . . god, I couldn’t even tell you,” Lucky began. He moved around the room in such a way that it told Elizabeth he knew every inch of the place by heart. “It was, oddly, like a big sink. It was impersonal, calculated . . .not that this joint is the Ritz or anything. But, you see, what went on here was vastly different than what on in the place.
“There…there it was all mental. They drugged me, and manipulated me until I gave them what they needed. And—and you know why,” Lucky stated coldly. “But then, when he went to Port Charles, and stole my life, I came here. The entire time I knew where I was. They told me I was in Greece and on the Cassadine island. Somehow it comforted me. I knew,” he paused, kneeling down at the foot of the bed. He pulled out a pile of papers. “I knew that if I could get the opportunity to escape, I knew how to get home. So I drew these.”
Elizabeth walked towards him, taking the papers from his hand. “They look like maps.”
“They are. I drew them every day for about two months. Different routes, different escape plans, everything.”
“You said they drugged you, at the other place,” Elizabeth started. She was almost unable to continue, a knot in her stomach. “What did they do to you…here.”
Lucky flinched, turning away from her quickly.
“That’s alright, you don’t have to tell me. I shouldn’t have--.”
“No, I have to . . . say it out loud, you know? If I tell you, and I’m in here, it’s almost like I could finally leave this place,” Lucky admitted. He surveyed the cinder block walls, the ratty carpet around the bed, the beaten down mattress.
“They had no real purpose for me, beyond leverage. If Steve, the great impostor, ever got out of line, I was Helena’s back up. But beyond that, I was just a caged animal. She gave her guards one rule—they couldn’t kill me. Obviously they didn’t. It didn’t stop them from executing their own sort of fun, if you know what I mean.” Lucky paused, and laughed bitterly. “You how know Jason thinks he’s this great enforcer? Can send someone to the hospital without leaving a mark? Well, my guards put Morgan to shame. Not only did they know how to make it hurt without it showing, but they had this amazing know how of where to hit for maximum pain with minimum damage. Truly impressive.”
When Lucky grew silent, Elizabeth wondered if she had let Lucky go too far. Her fears were quieted when he turned to look at her, an oddly peaceful smile forming.
“The day I escaped I just decided I had enough,” a tear slid down his cheek as soon as he made eye contact with Elizabeth. “They threatened you every day, and I wanted to stay strong. I swear I did but . . . the things they were doing . . . Helena was in prison and they were going to end this game any second, you know? It was getting boring for them and they were just going to kill me soon. I swear, Elizabeth, I never wanted to put you in danger. But I couldn’t . . .”
“Lucky, no,” she reached out, placing her fingers to his lips. “I saw you when you got home, remember? I know the kind of pain, physical pain you were in. I wish you hadn’t put me first . . . we could have been together.”
“Remember when I came back? Do you remember what I told you? Why I escaped?”
She shrugged, trying to think back. “You had to stop Helena, you were the only one who knew what she had programmed in your replacement. Didn’t you say he was going to hurt someone—Lulu?”
Lucky looked at the top of his boots, shame rolling over his shoulders.
“I said that, but it was a lie, Elizabeth,” he cleared his throat, trying to get the courage to tell her the truth. “I was going to tell you everything, but then I saw you with Aiden and I knew . . . I had to let it go. But the truth is, I didn’t know anything about what they programmed into Steve. It was just a coincidence that Kevin Collins found another layer of deep programming. I didn’t know. The only reason I escaped instead of letting those bastards kill me was to be with you. For three years you were the only thing that kept me alive.” He paused, his jaw clenched tight with tension. “Can you forgive me?”
“Forgive you? For what?”
“Lying to you and everyone,” Lucky said nervously.
“So you lied, so what? I lied to myself for a long time,” Elizabeth admitted with a sigh. She turned away, laughed lightly. “I lied to myself every night that I went to sleep and thought I was better off without you. I lied to my family and friends when I told them that the life I was living, after Aiden died, was the life I wanted. When, more than anything, I wanted to be with you.”
“I wanted to be with you,” Lucky said, his voice raspy and sweet. He stepped towards her, touching her shoulder to get her to turn around. “But I shouldn’t have lied to you. If I had just told you the truth maybe--.”
“Don’t, Lucky, we can’t keep doing this. These ‘what ifs’ will kill us if we don’t put them in the past. Didn’t we agree to forget the past? Move forward, start fresh?” Elizabeth asked. As she looked into his eyes she saw the boy she lost in the fire. For the first time in nine years she saw him. The way he looked at her gave her hope. She could drown in that deep blue hope.
“I don’t want to forget our past, at least the good parts,” he whispered, touching her hair softly. “I couldn’t even if I wanted to. But . . . maybe we should leave the rest of it, here, in this room?”
Elizabeth wanted nothing more than to kiss Lucky, to feel him in ways she never got the chance before. But this was neither the time nor the place. So, she took a painful step backwards and extended her hand.
“That’s the best thing I’ve heard in a long time,” she said with a smile as Lucky grasped her hand.
**Elsewhere**
Colin strode purposefully down the brightly-lit hallway. The heels of his black loafers clicked along the marble, offsetting the insistent ringing of his cell phone.
“Make it quick,” he snapped into the phone. As he listened, Colin ran his fingers along the key panel to the right of the steel door. He traced the letters S and W, smiling wickedly to himself. “Wait, wait, wait,” he demanded. “What did you say the name was? Quartermaine? . . . as in the heir to Tracy Quartermaine’s fortune? . . . So the kid was snooping around the warehouse. I love it . . . Are you questioning my sanity? Think hard. I want you to grab the punk and bring him to me right away. Yes . . . yes, do it,” Colin turned off the phone and returned it to his jacket pocket.
“Who are you kidnapping now?”
Colin spun around, coming face to face with Kristina. She was sipping a Screwdriver, looking dismissive and upset.
“Don’t even start, Kristina,” Colin sighed, flipping his hair off his forehead. She glared at him. “If you must know, that piss ant son of Tracy Quartermaine’s—Dylan—has been snooping around the warehouse. I am having him abducted and brought back here. We’re going to have fun with him. The kid . . . ah, the kid will be to prove to our band of merry misfits that I’m not playing games.”
“Then they’ll know who you are, Colin,” Kristina pointed out.
“It’s about time ‘the gang’ is introduced to me,” he paused, adding with a smirk, “I can’t wait to see their reactions to moi.”
Kristina rolled her eyes and started to leave, stopping part way down the hallway. “What exactly do you have in store for Sarah, right now?”
“What goes on between a man and a woman, behind closed doors, is between a man and a woman,” he said smoothly. “Well, a man, a woman, and his toys.”
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