Chapter Eight
"Evening, chief," Raylan drawled as two thugs hauled him out of the trunk. "I see you've got yourself a doctor. 'Course, I imagine she's a tad more used to working with dead people, her being the county coroner and all." He smiled at the dark-haired woman. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."
The blow staggered him, almost taking him to his knees. Only the painfully tight grip of the thugs' hands on his arms kept him upright. He wiped his lip on his shoulder, spitting out the blood inside of his mouth. A small pain pricked his arm. He ignored it, figuring it was an insect bite.
The chief pointed to the smaller of the thugs. "You, take the girl inside. Put her somewhere on her own. I don't want her filling the other's heads with bullshit about escaping."
He grinned and leaned closer to the girl, grabbing her chin with one hand. He used the other to run his gun down her cheek. "You should know by now sweetheart, there is no escape. I'll always find you and bring you back."
She twisted away from him, going utterly still as he clicked the safety off his gun. "I'd shoot you right here if I didn't have a client lined for you. Clean yourself up. You're entertainin' tonight."
Silent tears raced down her face as the thug dragged her towards the house. Raylan watched her go, rage burning through him with such force he shook with it. He let out a harsh breath.
"Why are you doin' this?" he asked the shorter man. "Can't see much in it for you."
"Why does anyone do anything, Raylan?" The chief grinned. "It's all about the money."
"I'll drug her, keep her nice and quiet for you," the coroner offered, wrapping her arm around the chief's. "Would you like that, Nick?"
The chief kissed her. "I'd like that very much, sweetie."
She smiled, walking towards the house, a sway in her gait that suggested she knew the chief was watching every step.
"So what now, chief Nick?" Raylan asked.
The chief ignored the question, nodding at two of his men. "Take him inside. Tie him up. I'll deal with him later."
Well, isn't this fun, Raylan thought as he was dragged roughly towards a the hunting lodge. He stumbled over a rock, legs suddenly weak. The thug on his right yanked on his arm, pulling him forward.
"Damn, that stuff works real quick," the thug said. "We won't have any problem with this one."
"You drugged me?" Raylan asked, swallowing dryly. The insides of his mouth felt like it was stuffed with tinder dry cotton.
"Yup." The thug shoved the door open. "Chief didn't want any trouble with you. Thinks you might be worth good money to him."
The hallway was too narrow for the three of them to walk abreast. The bigger of the thugs went first, opening a door. Raylan stumbled down the step into the room, legs feeling like they belonged to someone else.
They shoved him onto a chair, slamming his arms down on the wooden arms of the chair. Familiar pain roared through him, pushing the fog from the drug back a little.
"This the first time you've been held hostage, lawman?" one of the thugs asked as they tightened the rope around Raylan's arms.
"Nope," he answered, thinking of a plantation a million miles away from that dark, dank little room. "Didn't end so well for the last man who tied me up. Sure you want to do this?"
They both laughed. "Hell, yes. Ain't every day we get to mess up a lawman."
He leaned back, feeling the drugs wash through him, taking a stronger grip. "So that's how it's gonna be?"
The dark-haired thug slapped him around the back of the head. "Did ya really expect anything different?"
Darkness filled the room as one of the chief's men slammed the door, throwing a wicked looking knife onto the table next to Raylan's chair.
The thug pulled his hand back and landed a solid punch to Raylan's stomach. The taller man leaned forward as far as the rope would allow, retching from the blow. A kick landed on his knee, wrenching a pained grunt from his lips.
Motion caught Raylan's attention, and he turned his head quickly enough so that the blow meant for his nose landed on his cheek instead. It split the skin, sending blood trickling down his face.
The door opened, spilling murky light into the room. "Stop it." A female voice said. "I have something that will work so much better."
Both thugs stepped away, taking up posted next to the door. "Yes, Miss Napper."
She walked over, stopping in front of the chair. Raylan blinked, trying to focus on her. She touched his cheek, wiping away blood. "You're so very pretty. It's such a shame to mark you up like this."
"Then untie me and let me go," he rasped. "You might reach the boarder before I send the cops after you."
She laughed and laid a plastic case down on the table. "Keep dreaming, lawman. The only way you're getting out of here is in the trunk of a car with a bullet in your head."
He watched warily as she pulled a syringe from the bag. She set it on the table and reached for the knife, using it to split his sleeve so she could get to his skin. The blade nicked his skin, drawing a few small beads of blood. It dried quickly in the too-warm room. She tied an elastic strap around his arm to raise his veins and drew a dose of the drug into the syringe.
"Now, I'd say this won't hurt, but that'd be a lie." The needle pricked his skin. Burning pain shot up his arm as she injected the clear liquid.
"What was that?" he whispered thickly. A wave of dizziness crashed over him. He fought to keep his eyes open as the room spun slowly around him.
She dropped the used syringe back onto the table. "Oh, it's a little cocktail that I had a friend make for me. You won't be able to resist. In a couple of minutes, you'll do anything we want you to." She leaned closer, patting his cheek. "Now, try not to fight it, okay? That just makes it work more quickly."
The door opened again. He looked up, eyes widening with horror as he saw the girl from the woods standing in the doorway and realised what they were planning.
"I won't do it," he said desperately, jerking at the ropes that bound him. "I won't."
The coroner leaned closer, whispering against his ear. "Darlin', in a little while, you'll do anything we tell you to."