hesitated only a second before stepping out of the boat into the knee-high water. Her heart pounded and she had to work at controlling her breathing. Gator glanced at her, obviously able to hear and, to her shame, Kadan did as well.
Automatic rifles were slung over the men’s shoulders and Kadan held out a small revolver. ‘Would you like a gun? We should have asked. I’m armed to the teeth.”
Flame shook her head. “I’m better with a knife.”
Kadan nodded and gestured her to follow Gator, who led the way. The others fell in line, walking single file in the water, sometimes up to their waists as they wound around the shore of the islet. The marsh was thick with flowers, nettles, and stumps and it was slow going as they made the approach toward the Comeaux hunting camp.
Gator held up his hand and the line stopped. He gestured toward land and Ian immediately broke off from the group and waded through the thicker foliage to solid ground. Within minutes, Tucker and Kadan had taken to shore so they could approach the cabin from every direction, spreading out like a giant net to encompass the large area around the hunting camp.
Gator and Flame continued creeping through the water until she could see the rickety planks of wood that served as a deck and walkway to the cabin. Two cypress trees rose up through the deck and several cans of gasoline sat in front of one of them, just a few feet from a generator. A single plank led past the trees to the cabin. A crab pot lay tilted on its side near the trees and an airboat was tied to a pole between the deck and the cabin.
“Vicq Comeaux,” Raoul said, keeping his voice only to her. “It started to rain so he decided to forget fishing.”
“He’s not alone with her,” Flame said, her stomach beginning to knot up. She could hear inside the cabin now. The low cries of a female voice, the slap of something against flesh. The pleading and sobbing that followed. She quickened her pace. “I can hear other voices.”
“Don’ go getting yourself killed,
The door to the cabin opened and Vicq Comeaux shoved James Parsons out. James teetered and nearly fell. “Get the hell out of here before you end up gator bait,” Vicq yelled.
“You wouldn’t even have her if it wasn’t for me,” James snapped.
Gator signaled Flame forward, out of the water and she went in low, allowing the water, even the shallows, to creep up to her neck so she slithered out on her belly. She began to crab crawl up the slope toward the side of the cabin using a slow, steady movement designed not to draw the eye or move the foliage around her too much.
She heard the call of a bird. A second one answered. A bullfrog croaked. The men were in place. It was up to her to get inside and protect Joy.
“You sniveling piece of city boy shit. You wouldn’t have the balls to grab a woman. Carl took her, just like he took the last one. The only reason you were let in on it was to get your pappy offa Saunders’s back. That’s the only thing you’re good for and we already got the tapes, so as far as I’m concerned if you turn up dead, nobody’s gonna care one way or the other.” Vicq took a step to ward him and James backpedaled, misstepped and tumbled into the shallow water.
Gator immediately sank beneath the surface of the water and headed toward James. Vicq burst out laughing, slapping his knee as he watched James trying to regain his footing in the soft muck on the bottom.
Flame crept up to the window. The cracked glass was coated with years of grime, making it nearly impossible to see into the room. An old piece of burlap hung inside, at one time intended perhaps to block the light, hut it was ragged with age and torn almost in half. Moving around to the back of the cabin she discovered a much smaller window. One flimsy strip of board slashed across the open space at the back. There was no glass. It wasn’t going to be easy with a broken arm, but she would endure anything to make it into that cabin and protect Joy.
Looking inside, Flame could see a bed directly under the window. Joy was standing, both hands tied above her head to a hook hanging from the ceiling. Her body was covered in bruises and welts.
“Don’t look up, Joy.” Flame sent her voice directly to the woman. “I’m a friend of Nonny Fontenot. She sent me here to get you out.” She wiggled the board free, and tossed it behind her before jumping up to catch the windowsill with her good arm.
Joy frantically nodded her head toward the door several times, obviously fearful that Vicq and James would return.
Flame was grateful for her physical enhancements, which enabled her to pull herself up so she could wiggle through the small opening. She had to go in headfirst, but she landed on the bed and somersaulted onto the floor in a crouch, knife already drawn. A jolt of pain ran through her arm and crashed through her body. Breathing deep to ride it out, she took a quick sweep of the cabin, noting there was only the one door.
A butcher knife lay on the counter alongside several stacks of dirty dishes. Flame stepped over a long thick staff and reached up to cut through the leather ties binding Joy’s hands to the hook.
Joy crumpled to the floor, her legs unable to support her. Flame reached down to her, grasping her shoulders when the cabin shook slightly, and she knew immediately Raoul was warning her.
Vicq Comeaux stepped inside and quietly closed the door, a huge grin spreading over his face. “Nothing I like better than to see two women on their knees in front of me. Go ahead and touch the bitch, everyone else does.”
Flame’s eyes widened. She started to stutter an apology, standing, backpedaling- drawing him to her. Vicq stalked her across the small room, toeing Joy out of his way to get to Flame. Flame went for the helpless look, cradling her broken arm, making herself look even smaller until Vicq reached out with one meaty hand, grabbed her breast, and yanked hard to bring her to him. She went, using his tremendous strength along with her own, burying the largest knife she owned as deep into his gut as she could get it and jumped back out of his reach.
Vicq roared with pain, both hands going to the hilt as he stared at her. “What have you done?”
“That one was for Joy. This one’s for putting your filthy hands on me you son of a bitch.” Flame pulled the second, smaller throwing knife from inside the cast on her arm, watching his eyes widen with the certain knowledge that she wasn’t small and helpless. That she wasn’t tied up. That he couldn’t stop the inevitable. Even as he staggered toward her, she threw the knife with deadly accuracy, burying it in his throat.
Vicq went down hard, shaking the cabin as Joy tried to struggle to her feet. She began to sob quietly. “There are more of them. How are we going to get out of here?”
CHAPTER 17
Gator used the debris along the bottom to pull his body through the shallow water yet keep him submerged at the same time. He heard Vicq and James shouting at each other. Water churned around him as James lost his footing and fell, his butt landing inches from Gator’s hand. Gator swept his knife free of his belt as the man scrambled to his feet, rushing out of the shallows up the slope toward the cabin.
Gator found the roots of the cypress trees growing through the deck and came up for air, keeping his gaze focused on the two men. James struggled up the slope, his hands curled into tight fists, his face flaming red, but he stopped just out of Vicq’s reach.
“Go play with yourself,” Vicq said. “If you come back inside I’m going to play with you. We’ll see how you like being my bitch.” He turned his back on Parsons, clearly unafraid of him.
Gator immediately bounced a sound wave through the cabin walls to warn Flame the man was returning. There was no call for help from inside so he kept his focus on James. The man was muttering to himself angrily as he stomped across the plank to the deck. Gator heard him dragging something. Before he could move into place to grab the man, he heard the sound of a boat coming toward them fast. He sank back into the water to assess the new threat.
“What the hell are you doing?” The shout came from the motorboat as Carl Raines swept into view.
James ignored the question, lodging a heavy piece of timber against the cabin door and picking up one of the cans of gasoline. He doused the walls of the cabin as quickly as possible, soaking the dry timber with gas.
“Are you crazy?” Carl tied up the boat and leapt into the shallow water to race up the slope.
