Titanium (16 page)

But it wasn't a cat that walked into that circle of light. It was
the biggest man I'd ever seen. Dude had to be six-seven at least and
wore black from top to bottom. With his buzzed head and muscular
body, he scared the crap out of me. But his costume contact lenses,
golden with black cat pupils, were the crowning touch. All the air left
my lungs in a whoosh of horror.

"This is Panther, named after one of Titanium's most
nefarious villains. He helps me out and loves sweet young things.
Especially brunettes with big brown eyes. Right, Panther?"

The giant of a guy started toward me. I scooted my butt
back, but not far. A solid cinderblock wall stood directly behind me.
Grasping my wrists, he yanked me to my feet and pinned them over
my head. He rubbed his body against mine before he forced one knee
between my legs, making me straddle him. Panther leaned down to
nuzzle my neck.

I thought I would die.

And when I didn't, I wished I could.

Twisting my head away from him, I wondered how much I
could endure before I gave in. And was resisting even worth it? My
dad had never been there for me. And though he said he'd changed, I
had my doubts.

But the money.

All that money. Surely it meant something beyond legal
obligation. After all, he'd sent me that email...

Panther kissed me, forcing his tongue between my teeth. I
smelled beer and bad breath. Furious, I twisted my hands free and
slapped my flattened palms on his ears, a move I'd seen on TV. Didn't
faze him. Slipping a hand under my hoodie, he fondled my breasts
through the lace of my bra. One squeeze did it.

"Okay! All right! I'll talk to him." I shuddered in the
aftermath of his disgusting touch.

Panther released me with a curse and obvious reluctance. I
swallowed the sob stuck in my throat. I was not going to fall apart in
front of these creeps.

Once again, Jason thrust the phone at me. "Hit redial and the
speaker button."

With my feet now on the floor but my skin still crawling, I
did as told.

Steve McConnell answered on the fifth ring. "You've reached
a private number. Who is this? "

"Dad?"

"Riley?
Is that you?" He sounded honestly
pleased.

"Yes."

"Are you in Dallas?"

"No. I'm-- Actually, I don't know where I am. Something has
happened. Something awful."

Jason snatched the phone away. "Hello, Steve. This is your
number one fan, Titan. I've tried to contact you by letter, email, and
phone, but everything seems to vanish into some big black
hole."

Dead silence.

"We have your daughter, which, I'm thinking, should finally
get your attention. You can have her back if you do exactly what I tell
you to."

"Is this some kind of joke?"

"Why don't you answer that, Riley?"

I shook my head, not to answer my father, but Jason. He
flicked a glance at Panther, who grinned gleefully and stepped
toward me.

"It's real, Dad." My words came out a gasp. "It's all
real."

Steve sucked in a sharp breath. "Now you listen to me--
"

Jason cut him off. "My name's Titan.
[email protected]. And I think
you'd
better listen to
me
. I'm not going to let you sell out the greatest antihero ever
created just because you're 'different now.' Yeah. I read the smarmy
email you wrote Riley. If you really want to spend the holidays with
your long-lost daughter, you'd better do what I say, when I say.
Because we're going to be having some fun with her until you
do."

As if on cue, Panther moved in again. I squealed without
meaning to. He terrified me that much.

"Stop! Don't hurt her! Just tell me what you want."

"Get paper and pencil. I want you to do this right."

"I'm ready."

"Good. It's very simple, Steve. First, you fire Cory Walls. That
punk could never play Titanium. Second, call "Entertainment
Tonight" and announce that you'll soon have some very big news for
them. Third, resurrect Panther, the most diabolical villain of all time
and the only opponent worthy of our man's effort. Am I going too
fast?"

"No."

"Fourth, use my script for your movie. I know what Ti's
followers want. My fan fic is top rated. Fifth, and this one is the
kicker, cast me in the role of Eric Deckard. I've lived his life, man. I.
Can. Relate. Last, but most important, you don't tell anyone why
you're doing this. I want the world to believe you've finally wised up.
I want them to respect you again, even if you don't deserve it,
because disrespecting you is disrespecting Titanium."

Listening to Jason's outrageous rant, I experienced a chill
that had nothing to do with the weather or the nasty place we were
in. Far different from any comic book nerd I'd ever met, he
epitomized every appalling psycho I'd ever read about in a book or
watched in a slasher movie on the big screen. Was he deliberately
playing a role he thought would scare me? Or was he certifiably
crazy? Whichever, I'd somehow gotten caught up in the surreal
fantasy world that was his daily existence.

At that moment, I lost all hope of rescue and even
survival.

But Jason wasn't finished. "Leave the cops out of this and
don't try to pull any fast ones. I see and hear everything. By the way,
Ginny is awake in her crib and probably needing a diaper change, but
your wife is still planting roses outside."

Dad sucked in a sharp breath. "There's no way in hell you
could get into this house to put up cameras."

"Who says we did? You underestimate your
Titanimites
, Steve. We're not all mindless fans. Some of us
have skills. In fact, my team and I are monitoring every move you
make--your emails, your texts, your phone calls, the GPS system in
your car, your security camera, even that brand new nanny
cam."

"Stay away from my family!"

"Funny you should mention that. Little Ginny was actually
our target until you sent that email to Riley, the family no one knows
about. Since she doesn't need a bottle or Pampers, we changed our
plans. There are perks for guys who kidnap hot chicks, you
know."

"Please don't hurt her."

"Do what you're told, and I won't have to. Don't do it, and
we'll kill her so we can focus on the rug rat." He glanced at Panther,
who gave him a short nod. "Now I'll be checking back real soon. Shall
we say tomorrow noon? That should give you plenty of time to get
things going."

"B-but--"

Jason ended the call, took the phone apart, and ground the
pieces into the concrete floor with the heel of his boot.

I thought Sparks would never get there, but he actually
made pretty good time. When he pulled up behind my truck, I saw
him and some other guys pile out of it. Wilson. Simms. Perez. He'd
brought everyone in good enough shape to help. My confidence
soared. We each had skills that would come in handy.

"Did you call the cops?" Sparks asked when they'd clustered
around me.

"Not yet."

"Why not?" This from Simms.

"Who do I call? The sheriff? City police?"

"Try 9-1-1 and let them decide." Wilson, offering his two
cents worth.

"Right." I dug my cell phone from my pocket with
unexplainable reluctance. No freakin' bars. I'd never been so
frustrated. It was hard to think straight. "Could someone find the leg?
It's probably here someplace, and I'm no use gimping around."

Wilson and Simms, both mobile, began combing the bushes
nearby.

Dom and Sparks waited, their gazes nailing me to the spot.
"I'd rather report this to Sergeant Brian, the cop who helped us
before. His number's at the house."

Dom clearly had doubts, but didn't argue. "It's your call,
buddy."

"Thanks. Would you two see if you can figure out how they
got here and where they went? I don't see any sign of them
anywhere up front. There's the lake out back, though. Tried to get
there, but my freakin' crutches are sticking in the mud."

With nods, they left me.

"This yours?"

I turned toward the sound of Wilson's voice and saw he had
the Glock. "Roger that. Any sign of the leg?"

"Found it!" Simms held it up. Mud and autumn leaves clung
to the titanium pylon reminding me of a stake planted in a flower
pot. That might've made me laugh if I hadn't been so frustrated. All I
could think about was our wasting time while Riley was stuck in hell.
I wished I'd taught her some self-defense moves. Didn't know why I
hadn't thought of it before now.

I put on the leg Simms handed me. Without the gel sleeve, it
would rub something awful, but I couldn't worry about that now. I
checked to see if the gun was still loaded. Wasn't, but I tucked it into
my hoodie pocket anyway.

Dom and Sparks joined us. Dom gave me their findings.
"They approached and retreated by the lake."

"Figures." I wondered how long they'd been at the cabin
before attacking us. And I'd thought we'd be safe.

"Did you call 9-1-1?" asked Simms.

"No." I pinched the back of my neck, trying to relieve the
tension headache that had slammed me out of nowhere. Impatiently,
I explained my decision to call from the house.

"Do her folks know?" Trust Dom, the family man, to ask me
that. He was undoubtedly thinking of his own daughters, but Riley's
situation was different.

"No. She refused to call them after the parking lot thing, so
I'm not doing it now. Besides, I don't have their number."

"You should look for it." Dom again. "It's the right thing to
do."

"What if she got away?" That came from Sparks. "Are you
sure she's not hiding in the woods?"

I glanced hopefully toward the trees. "I'm not sure of
anything."

"We'd better do some recon."

We split up and headed into the forests, every step agony for
me. From all directions, I heard them calling for her.

Riley. Riileey. Riiiileeeey.

Thirty minutes after we started, we gave up. If she was
anywhere close, she'd have heard us. I deliberately didn't consider
her being nearby, but unable to respond. My heart couldn't bear the
thought.

"That's that, I guess," I told them once we got back together.
"Now I need some tires."

"I'll get my brother-in-law's cousin on it," Dom said. "He's
got a Firestone dealership."

"Thanks. It'll be right here. Ready?" I got nods all
around.

After locking up the cabin, we split and got to Riley's place
by noon. My heart sort of flip-flopped when I saw her car sitting in
the drive. Tears stung my eyes, but I blinked them away and not
because I worried one of the guys would see them. I didn't give a shit
about that. This was simply not the time for sloppy
sentimentality.

The girl I loved had been kidnapped. It was up to me to find
her.

To do that, I had to keep my head on straight and my wits
about me.

I wished like hell that I'd had the nerve to tell Riley I loved
her. Had war taught me nothing? How many times had my buddies
told me they regretted unfinished business more than anything
else.

How do you thank a spouse for playing single parent while
you play the role of soldier? How do you explain to your boy that
you'll miss his little league games? Or your daughter, her ballet
recital? No matter how noble the reason, because of it, we'd all lost
life experiences we couldn't regain. That made my failure to speak
my heart to Riley unforgiveable. I was back in the land of the free. I
had no excuse for my behavior except foolish pride and self-
pity.

Once we got back to the apartment, I searched the desk for
Sergeant Brian's card. He'd said to phone him. Now was the time to
do it. But he never picked up. I left a voicemail.

As for the others needing to know, I had no phone numbers
without Riley's cell phone and didn't even know her aunt's and
uncle's last names. That left only one person to call, and I hated like
hell to do it.

I sicced Dom, the computer whiz, on her emails and took a
quick shower first. My spare gel sleeve and cleaned-up prosthesis
made me feel a lot better physically. Mentally, I was still a wreck.
Dom had the number by the time I got back in the living room. I
punched it in, my jaw clenched in irritation. This jerk did not deserve
a call.

"You said I had until tomorrow noon!" a man yelled instead
of saying "Hello."

I tensed. "Is this Steve McConnell?"

"You know damn well it is. Let me speak to Riley."

"That's why I'm calling. She's gone missing, and--"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Who
is
this?"

"Zander Bennett."

"Who?"

"Riley's housemate. I know she's mentioned me in an
email."

"Yeah. Yeah, she did."

"Are you saying that someone has called you with demands
of some kind?"

"Yes. Can you tell me what the hell is going on?"

I ignored the question and asked one of my own. "Do they
want money?"

"No. The man who called said his name was Titan. He had a
list of demands, all of which related to one of my graphic novel
series. I have several. This one is the most popular."

"You're talking about Titanium."

"Yes." He sounded surprised. "You read them?"

"So this whole thing is about you."

"Apparently."

That figured. Even absent from Riley's life, her dad still
managed to hurt her. My first inclination? Hang up the freakin'
phone. But I went with my second and reluctantly told him almost
everything, beginning with the encounter in the mall parking lot.
Steve told me all about a phone call he'd gotten from the so-called
Titan, who I felt sure was our Jason.

"Have you talked to the cops?" I asked when he
finished.

"Titan told me not to."

"Did you call her folks?"

"Did
you
?"

"No."

"Neither did I."