| |
Tilda stayed below the speed limit as she drove towards Nicholas’s farm west of Richmond. The last thing she needed was police attention because she’d had more than her share in the past couple of days. The snowplows had been down Route 33, and the roads were clear except for patches of black ice. She slipped and skidded several times. Thirty minutes later, she pulled Wilbur’s truck up to the door of Nicholas’s barn situated off a side road near the old estate of General Barbour. Tilda grabbed her gun, slid out of her truck and quietly entered the barn. It was pitch black and quiet as death.
She returned to the truck and found Wilbur’s flashlight in the backseat. She returned to the barn, closing the door behind her. She called softly, “Nicholas, Nicholas, are you here?”
There was no answer.
Tilda shone the flashlight near an old table and saw areas of congealed blood. She aimed the light on the nearby floor and saw reddened straw. Upon closer inspection, was shocked at the amount of blood on the floor. Her pulse quickened, and her fury escalated. Where was Nicholas? Where was the love of her life? Her heart pounded deep in her chest as panic crushed her soul. She called his name, but there was no answer. She continued her search of the barn. She passed an old tractor and a hay baler and other equipment she didn’t recognize. As she walked the length of the barn, it was clear there’d been several major struggles. She saw a pallet and a rope where one of the women had been handcuffed to an old hay baler. The pallet was soaked in blood. She called Nicholas’s name again and thought she heard a low moan. She ran quickly to the other side of the barn and found him, crumpled in a heap, barely breathing, his jeans and flannel shirt soaked in blood. His face was badly bruised, his beautifully shaped lips were cut on one side, and a long gash extended across his forehead and down his cheek. Tears and anger over who could have done this paralyzed Tilda for a few seconds as she stared at her lover. The pain in her chest overwhelmed her, but she pushed it away.
“Nicholas, Nicholas, oh, who did this to you?” she crooned quietly as she held his bloodied face in her arms. She noticed the gashes weren’t too deep and that a good plastics guy could fix him right up.
Dr. Dude opened his swollen eyes. “It’s my leg, check my leg. I can’t feel it.”
Tilda ran her hands down his jeans and saw the long gash in his groin. She knew a little about first aid. She thought his injury had hit an artery. She untied the makeshift tourniquet and blood immediately saturated the cloth. She quickly tightened the tourniquet.
“You’ve a bad gash. I think it hit your leg artery. You’ve lost a lot of blood.” She stroked his bloodied forehead.
“Water, do you have water?” Nicholas croaked. “Thirsty.”
“Yes, I do. I’ll get it,” she reassured him.
Nicholas coughed and murmured with great effort, “Thank you, Tilda, you’re always there for me.”
Tilda cradled him in her arms. For the first time, she was in charge in their relationship. He needed her. “Baby, who hit you in the head? Who attacked you?” she asked softly as she bent down to listen.
“Allison, the girl from the office, remember her? You and Oleg snatched her a few days ago.” Nicholas was in such pain, he could hardly speak.
“Allison did this to you,” Tilda repeated with surprise as hatred entered her heart. The voices began again, KILL HER, KILL HER. The chant sent a shock wave of pain through Tilda’s head. She grabbed her head to stop the sound and hissed, “If she did, she’ll pay for it.”
Nicholas stared up at her. “Please, not now, just some water,” he begged.
Tilda kissed him on his bloody forehead. “Okay, I know. I need to get you to a hospital, but let me clean you up first. Water and bandages and painkillers.” She stood up.
“Please, please don’t leave me,” Nicholas begged.
Tilda smiled down at him and said, “My love, I will never leave you. I love you now and forever. I’m gonna go to the truck and get water. I’ll be back in an instant.”
And she was. The next time Nicholas opened his eyes, Tilda was bathing his face with water. She offered him a straw to sip. He sipped the water slowly, swallowed. His body racked with a deep cough. Tilda helped him sit up, and he spit out another tooth.
She smiled at him and said, “Don’t worry my love. We can always make you more teeth.”
“Yes, we can.” He lay down, gave her a sad look and whispered, “You’re so good to me, Tilda. You smell so good, too,” he added as he gazed at her through swollen eyes.
Tilda’s heart warmed with pleasure. She offered him two Vicodin. “You can swallow these. They’re no bigger than the teeth. They’re pain pills.”
Nicholas nodded and swallowed each pill, one at a time. “I need them. My face hurts like hell.”
“I’m sure,” Tilda said as she moved down to inspect his leg and groin area. It was then she noticed his right shoulder. It sagged way below the level of his left shoulder. Was it a broken clavicle or a broken shoulder? “Nicholas, my love. What about your shoulder? Does it hurt? It looks injured.” She touched it, and he winced in pain.
“Yes, yes, I think it’s broken or dislocated. I can’t use my right hand and can barely move my arm,” he said with a grimace. “I’m all beat up, aren’t I?” He managed a weak smile.
“Yeah, you are. Are you sure no one else was here? Allison did all of this?” Tilda asked. She remembered Allison as being a little over five feet tall. She couldn’t have weighed much more than a hundred pounds.
Nicholas nodded. “Yeah, she did it, believe it or not. I don’t remember how it all happened, but she slapped me, hit me in the head with a shovel and kicked my shoulder. I guess she knew karate or something,” he said slowly as he tried to remember.
Tilda moved back down to examine his leg. “How’d this happen?” The tourniquet was saturated with blood. She removed it briefly and let the blood permeate his leg. She remembered that from her first aid course.
“I’m not going to lose my leg, am I?” Nicholas asked fearfully.
Tilda smiled brightly, “No, of course not, my love,” she assured him. “Your leg is bad, but I am sure they can fix it.”
He nodded, “Are you positive? I don’t want to lose my leg,” he whined. “I wouldn’t look good with only one leg.”
Tilda moved up and kissed him. “Your leg will be fine. And you will always be perfect to me.” She smiled down on him. She adored him even though it’d become clear he couldn’t fight his way out of a wet paper bag.
He smiled at her with his torn lips and broken teeth. “What would I do without you, Tilda? You’ve always been there for me.”
Tilda nodded. “That I have. Now, how did Allison hurt your leg?” Tilda had to admit a grudging respect for the young woman.
Nicholas tried to think back. “I don’t know for sure,” he said, “but I think I fell on a pitchfork and it pierced my leg.”
Tilda nodded as she remembered the pitchfork at the other end of the barn near the congealed blood. She reached for the bottle of water and held it to his lips. Nicholas moaned in pain as she moved his shoulder and tried to sit him up.
“No, no, stop it. I can’t sit up. It hurts too badly,” he said hoarsely. “Just give me the straw.”
Tilda shot him a dirty look and handed him the straw and water. She watched as he struggled to drink. He does need me. He can’t even get a sip of water without me. She took the bottle, bent the straw and held it to his lips, and he drank until the bottle was empty.
He looked up at her with a question on his mind. “What are we going to do now?”
“Where’s Allison? Where’s the girl?” Tilda asked abruptly, ignoring his question.
“I don’t know. She left.”
“How long ago?”
Dude attempted to shrug his shoulders and moaned in pain. He shook his head. “I don’t know. I passed out. I’ve no idea what time it was, and I don’t even know what day or time it is now. How long have I been out?” Nicholas’s eyes filled with tears.
Tilda shook her head. She was disgusted. Nicholas was proving to be useless. She stared at him. “I’m taking you to the hospital, and then I’m coming back to find and kill Allison.”
Nicholas’s pupils dilated, “Don’t kill her. Just find her,” he ordered with the first sign of strength Tilda had witnessed since arriving. “They’ll be pissed if she’s dead. She’s worth a lot of money. They might even kill us. She’s their merchandise.”
Tilda gave him a searching look. “By ‘they’ do you mean a tall man with a bald head?”
“Yes. Oleg. He’ll kill us or have it done,” he said with assurance.
Tilda smiled smugly. “Don’t worry about Oleg. He’s dead. I killed him tonight, outside your office.”
Nicholas’s pupils dilated. “What, you killed Oleg? Oleg’s my friend, my protector. He’s my godfather.” Tears fell from his eyes.
Tilda stared at him with dead fish eyes. “Was your godfather and friend. He’s deader than a doorknob.” Tilda felt only pride. “No need to worry about him.” She smiled down at him.
Nicholas shook his head, his eyes terrified. “But...there are so many more. They’ll come for us. Dimitri will skin us alive. They are all Bratva. Russian mob. I work for the Russian mob. You know that. You’ve helped me. He will kill us. You’ve no idea...” his voice trailed off into a whisper.
Tilda shook his shoulder roughly, and he screamed in pain. “Shut up, Nicholas. I’ll kill them, just like I killed Constance and her boyfriend. Just like you told me to.”
Nicholas looked up at her bewildered, “You killed Constance? I never told you to do that. And what boyfriend?”
Tilda glared at him. “Some man in her kitchen, and you did tell me to kill her. This afternoon. I did what you told me to do, Nicholas,” she assured him as she felt resentment consume her.
“NO, I NEVER told you to kill Constance. I told you to take care of things. Take care of the rumors, to scare her. Threaten her. NEVER kill her. Why did you ever think that?” Once again, Nicholas’s eyes filled with tears.
“You ungrateful bastard,” she hissed as she stared at him.
Nicholas shook his head. “No, no. I never would have said that. She’s the mother of my children. You’re crazy.”
Tilda smacked him in the face and said in a vicious tone, “I killed your ugly little daughter, too.”
Nicholas’s eye widened before turning to his side and vomiting.
Tilda shook her head. “You’re disgusting.”
She stood, grabbed Nicholas by the feet and dragged him through the barn, and then hoisted him onto her truck bed.