Disclaimer: Not mine.

Captive 14

Think Twice

Trunks sighed, swore and straightened his shoulders. He didn't make a move to draw his weapon. Instead he put his arm around Marron's waist. "Let me do the talking," he told her and they stepped into the plaza. "Yamcha," he said, falsely cheerful as the trio of men came up. "Good to see you again. Uub," he added, with a nod toward a broad-shouldered man with sharp-as-lasers chocolate-brown eyes.

Marron's stomach curdled and sank at the mention of Yamcha's name. Fear shot through her as she looked at Yamcha. He was well-built, with a scarred face and very evil eyes. Fanatic's eyes. Which he turned on her briefly before he concentrated on Trunks, flicking over her with contempt and arrogance before his gaze met hers and moved back to Trunks.

Yamcha terrified her, but she still moved unconsciously closer to Trunks, willing to share whatever fate being with him might bring. She even managed to lift her head proudly, not that any of the men were paying her any mind this time.

"Thought you were out of town," Trunks said to Yamcha.

Marron found his cool, casual tone shocking. She couldn't tell if he was disturbed by the presence of Yamcha and all his henchmen or not. He was playing for time, of course, playing a macho game with an enemy. Why was Yamcha his enemy, anyway, she wondered?

"You murdered my brother," Yamcha snarled, effectively answering Marron's question. "Cold blood." He spat on the ground at Trunks' feet. "Business I understand, but not what you did."

Marron turned her shocked gaze on Trunks. Had he? How? Why? No! Even if he wasn't who he claimed to be, Marron did not believe he was a murderer. Yesterday she'd believed him capable of anything, but that was yesterday. People shot at him, he shot back. It was barbaric, but understandable. Today, at least at this moment, it was understandable to her. She licked suddenly dry lips, ad waited breathlessly for Trunks' response to Yamcha's accusation.

"You know what happened," Trunks replied.

But I don't! Marron thought. She was tempted to stomp on Trunks' foot and demand a full explanation here and now.

Temptation she fought down as she looked around the plaza. She was hoping for help of some sort, even for Trunks' crew to come racing to the rescue, guns blazing. The only people she saw in the plaza were the ones Yamcha had brought with him. If people in the shelter or other buildings were watching, she doubted anyone was in the process of calling the police or intervening themselves. Isla San Enfado was an island overrun with criminals. Hadn't Trunks mentioned that Yamcha controlled the airports? How much power did he have on the island? Enough to get away with whatever he chose to do, she guessed.

"I flew in through the storm," Yamcha proudly informed Trunks. "Got a tip the Blade was in, so I had to come home, didn't I?"

"I don't see why," Trunks coolly replied. "You and I don't have business together."

"Oh, yes we do," Yamcha replied darkly. "We monitored your cell phone frequency," Yamcha said, beaming. "That's how I found you. Isn't technology wonderful? Heard about you and Piccolo. Too bad you won't be able to make the meeting."

By this time Trunks had taken a subtle step away from Marron, was shielding her with his body. This forced her to look over his shoulder to follow his conversation with Yamcha.

"You jealous because Piccolo doesn't invite you to his place?" Trunks asked.

Yamcha laughed, not a pleasant sound. "I'm going to torture you for a long time," he said cheerfully. "Make sure you live long enough to regret what you did."

The man named Uub looked from Trunks to Yamcha. A scowl of disgust twisted his handsome features. "Do we have to do this, boss?" He made a show of looking at his watch. "Personal revenge is a waste of valuable time."

"My time!" Yamcha shouted angrily back. "My brother!"

"I didn't kill your brother!" It was Trunks' turn to shout. "I was there. I saw what happened, but I didn't do it. You know damn well he killed himself, you just don't want to believe it."

"Your brother was strung out that day," Uub cut in. "Paranoid, talking crazy. It could have happened the way Reese claims."

Yamcha made a sharp gesture of denial. "Suicide is a sin. My brother would never do such a thing."

"The drugs did it," Uub responded. "Maybe," he added at his boss' dark glare.

"You were there," Yamcha snarled at Trunks. "You were seen holding the gun."

"There were a dozen people in Nacho's that day," Trunks responded. "Nine or ten of them have told you what really happened, how I tried to stop him when he put the gun to his head."

"Genaro said you did it."

Trunks shrugged. "He's lying."

There were several nods and exchanged looks from his men behind Yamcha's back. Several glanced expectantly at Uub. He licked his lips, and said, carefully and patiently, "Genaro lied to you. He was there as your brother's bodyguard but he screwed up. You already dealt with Genaro. Let that be enough blood. Let's get back to business. You need to get your focus back."

Marron realized from the mad look in Yamcha's eyes that Uub was taking a big risk in defending Trunks. She found herself being grateful to this no-doubt very bad man for his defense. She didn't want Trunks to die. Her emotions were crystal clear and focused on that fact. Whatever he was, whatever there was between them, the thought of Tiger Reese' death was devastating to her. It simply could not be allowed to happen. Too many people she cared for had already died. She wasn't going to watch it happen again!

"Don't do this," she heard herself saying to Yamcha.

Trunks gave her a swift look. "Please stay out of this, Marron," he said softly.

She knew he'd told her to let him do the talking, but couldn't keep quiet to save her life. She smiled ironically as the old saying crossed her mind. She doubted keeping quiet and hidden behind Trunks was going to do her any good, anyway. She had nothing to lose – except Trunks. She couldn't let that happen.

She moved from standing behind Trunks to speak to the sneering Yamcha. Trunks put his hand on her arm. "I'm sorry about your brother," she said, looking into Yamcha's eyes. Trunks drew her backward, and put his arm around her shoulders. She felt protected within the circle of his arm, despite being aware of their danger. "Isn't there some way you can settle this without more killing?"

She knew what Yamcha was going to say as soon as she spoke, and blushed hot with shame as an ugly grin spread across his face. Uub looked disgusted. She glanced quickly up to see possessive anger flash across Trunks' features. Oh, dear.

Trunks swore inventively as he pressed her closer to his side. "Leave the woman out of this. It's between you and me."

Yamcha took a step back, the broad grin never leaving his features. "We'll fight for the woman," he announced. This was greeted with laughter and grins from his men."

Macho nonsense, Marron thought, but kept from sneering or making any disparaging comment.

"No!" Trunks protested. "This is between us, Yamcha."

"Do you want to buy us time or not?" Marron whispered fiercely to Trunks. "You can take him, right?" He glared. She spoke quickly to Yamcha. "If Tiger wins, you let us go, right?" She had no idea where her words were coming from, what reckless angel was egging her on. She did not recognize herself, but did not know where cautious, staid and unadventurous Marron had gotten to or when she'd be back. All she did know was that there was nothing to lose, so why not take the risk?

She looked expectantly at Trunks. "Why not go for it?"

He spun her around and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Do you know what he'll do to you?"

Of course she knew what Yamcha intended. The same thing he intended to do to her if he simply outright tortured and murdered Trunks. She didn't remind Trunks of that; instead, she tossed her head and said boldly, "Not if you win."

Trunks didn't know what had gotten into this woman, but couldn't help but smile at her. The confidence and trust in the look she gave him struck him down to the bone. It made him want to fight for her – and win. And claim her as his prize. This feeling was insane, pure warrior male fantasy, so politically incorrect he thought it might actually be illegal. Then again, nothing was illegal on San Enfado.

"Sure," he said to Yamcha, stepping away from Marron. "You want my woman, you're definitely going to have to fight for her."

Well aware of all the guns trained on him, he carefully shrugged off his jacket. Uub stepped forward and plucked Trunks' gun out of its shoulder holster. Uub didn't prevent him from passing his knife to Marron. In fact, Uub covered her action as Marron carefully and quickly slipped the blade into her shorts pocket. Trunks was grateful for even this small bit of help from Yamcha's very business-minded second in command. Yamcha in the meantime had shed his own armament and backed into the center of the plaza. Trunks strode forward, and Yamcha's men formed an excited ring of spectators around them.

Marron didn't want to watch what happened next, but found herself staring in rapt fascination as two experienced fighters got down, and very dirty. A lot of the dirt came from the puddles in the plaza, and a patch of slippery mud they got into as they kicked and punched and chopped their way back and forth across the wide circle formed by the gathering crowd. There was a great deal of shouting and jeering and jostling for views among Yamcha's men. Trunks had the advantage of height and reach, and better martial arts mastery, Marron realized as she watched him spin, kick and dodge. His movements were accomplished with deadly grace, and seeming ease. Both men were soon covered in blood and bruises as well as soaked and muddy clothing. Yamcha was vicious and as fast as a striking snake. He fought in an angry frenzy. He was reckless besides, not caring that he took punishment to land a blow.

The fight seemed to go on forever, and was painful to watch. Marron could only justify egging this on because every second Trunks spent fighting Yamcha was one more second he lived. She hoped and prayed that Yamcha was getting enough satisfaction out of hurting Trunks. That the fight would be enough, that it would satisfy his honor or guilt or rage or whatever was eating him up over his brother's death. That he blamed himself for his brother's suicide but was putting on the blame on Trunks was obvious to her. Somehow she doubted Yamcha was the sort who would seek counseling for this problem. She certainly did not intend to suggest it to him, assuming the chance ever came to bring it up.

She almost smiled at this thought, but winced instead at the sound of Yamcha's fist connecting with Trunks' midsection. Trunks used the move to grab Yamcha's arm and swing the man around. Yamcha staggered forward, followed swiftly by Trunks. The combat moved closer to where she and Uub stood. Yamcha fell to his knees, and Trunks was on him, looming, with his arm around Yamcha's throat. Marron realized their ragged breathing was the only sound in the plaza. Everyone else had gone stone still. They were all staring, tension crackled around the silent circle of men. Even she was aware that the fight was over. That Trunks could easily break Yamcha's neck if he chose.

She saw a look pass between Trunks and Uub. She half-expected Uub to respond by giving a thumbs-up or down sign, indicating life or death just as a Roman emperor would do to decide the outcome of a gladiatorial contest. Uub made no move, not even a blink, staying totally neutral in whatever happened next between his boss and Trunks.

Trunks' gaze then flicked on her. The coldness she saw in his eyes froze her, terrified her, but she didn't look away. The man was capable of doing whatever he had to do. She accepted this as his strength; it was who he had to be to be able to survive in this violent world. What he was, was not beyond her understanding, merely beyond her scope of experience. At least until now. She didn't know what she really thought, how she could deal with the naked knowledge of the man's soul in the long-term, but for now she gazed back at him with steady support. This was no time to wimp out.

The instant passed. His eyes shifted away from hers to look around the gathering of armed men. Yamcha's men. He took a chance, and released his hold on Yamcha.

Trunks took a step back as Yamcha fell forward onto his hands and knees. "We're going now," he said and held his hand out to Marron.

She rushed forward. This time she was the one who kissed him, but swiftly and briefly. This was no time for a victory celebration. She heard someone let out a low, dirty laugh as she pulled away from Trunks. He put his arm around her as Yamcha struggled to his feet.

Yamcha turned on them, and snarled, "You're not going anywhere. Kill them," he ordered with a look over his shoulder at Uub.

Marron forgot to breath as fear gripped her. Trunks' grasp on her tightened. She felt his tension, but he stood as still as stone. She was glad he was holding her, because she didn't think she would be able to stand on her own. No one moved.

"Kill him!" Yamcha shouted. He turned slowly around, glaring furiously at his men. "Did you hear me?"

"He won," Uub spoke up. "You made a deal."

Yamcha rounded his second in command, and swore at him. "Do what I tell you!"

Everyone was suddenly looking at Uub. Oh, hell," he snarled. He looked disgusted, and thoroughly annoyed as he stepped forward and punched Yamcha in the jaw. Yamcha went down, out cold. Uub gave a hard-eyed look around the circle of Yamcha's men. No one objected. He nodded, pointed to two men. "Lock him up back at the house. I'll work with him later."

"You sure, boss?" One of the men asked.

Uub accepted the title easily. "I'm sure." The men didn't argue anymore, but moved to do as they'd been told. Uub approached Trunks.

Trunks was not surprised at this change of leadership of the Yamcha crime family. It had been coming for a long time. He was surprised to be alive. He wondered what Uub wanted from him, to have made his move to take over by saving his life. Yamcha had certainly played this situation wrong, not by losing, but by reneging on his implied agreement to let them go if he lost. He'd let himself wide-open to what had just happened. The men of Isla San Enfado did have a code of honor and conduct, macho and brutal though it was.

"You should have killed him for me," Uub said to Trunks. "Would have made both our lives easier."

"Sorry about that," Trunks said coolly.

"I'll deal." Uub gestured toward the blue Jeep. "I'll give you a lift to Piccolo's place."

So that was what the man wanted, an introduction to the most powerful man on the island. Now that he'd become the second most powerful man on San Enfado. This was interesting, but none of Trunks' business. He needed one name from Piccolo, that was all.

He also owed Trunks his life. "Sure," he said, with a nonchalant shrug. He tugged on his filthy shirt. "Need to clean up for the party, though."

"No need. Piccolo runs a full-service resort for his guests."

That was true. What Trunks really wanted was to drop Marron off at the shelter. It was only across the plaza. One of those so close but so far away problems, and he couldn't see any way out of it. Yamcha was still alive, still vengeful. Uub's reign over the family empire could be a short one. There might be some way Yamcha could get to Marron if she was left here alone where Yamcha's men could find her. Besides, it was now firmly established that she was Trunks' woman. There would be suspicion if Trunks left the woman he just fought for behind.

There was nothing he could do but take Marron along. Somehow, he was going to have to warn her, threaten her, convince her, to keep her mouth shut and simply play the bad guy's girlfriend for as long as it took him to get the job done and get out.

Damn! If he had any sense, he'd find a way out of this situation. Maybe he should even forget about the assignment in order to keep her safe.

That wasn't an option, though, was it? Not with Uub walking beside them toward the Jeep. Uub handed his gun back, Marron returned his knife. He was armed again, but Trunks knew this was no time to cross the man.

"Fasten your seatbelts," he found himself inanely quoting from an old movie as he and Marron settled into the vehicle. "It's going to be a bumpy ride."

"Hey, I'm a great driver," Uub laughed as he started the engine. "You two lovebirds can sit back and let me take care of everything."

Happy Easter, people!

After not updating for one whole month, I finally forced myself to look for THE diskette where I keep this treasure. It's not my fault though. The computer at home retired a week ago and things have been pretty hectic in my corner of the world. My sister seems bent on expanding her empire and she doesn't what her trusty and tyrannical adviser to leave even for a chocolate break! I also have to send Leona an SMS telling her to congratulate me for keeping my part of the bargain that I can keep my hands off Cloud for a month. I should have bet on that...

Anyway, thank you for your reviews! Yes, the last song was Faith Hill's This Kiss. I like that although I can never seem to learn the tune, except for the chorus, of course. This one is my favorite song at the moment. I love Think Twice by Eve Six. I've never heard so much possessiveness and obsession in a song. Being a possessive and obsessive person myself, I can understand the singer's feelings. Although, I don't go as far as he does. :)

That's all for now. Thanks for your support and keep those reviews coming. Mata ne!