Serial Story: Jasmine Betrayal, Part 18
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format every Friday right here on the blog for free. When the story is
done, it will be edited, polished and available for sale at all your
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 |
Jasmine Betrayal
Part 18
The moon was high when Max finally walked down the block to his house, doing his best not to hobble on a badly twisted knee. The neighborhood was quiet, but he remained alert just the same. It had taken longer than he’d thought it might to shake his captors, but they’d made the mistake of putting his plastic-tied wrists close to a sharp metal edge, and that had been the only chance he needed.
He didn’t see any sign of movement or light as he went around to the back door, but it would make sense for Genevieve to be in bed. The very thought of climbing in next to her and pulling her body close to his was enough to send blood rushing south of his waistband, and he moved a little quicker.
No vehicle in the driveway either, he noted on the way by. Good girl. Reaching up, he found the spare key above the door frame and let himself in, bolting the door after himself as he turned on the kitchen light.
The room was clean - too clean, once he thought about it for a moment. Not even a glass beside the sink, but there was a piece of paper on the long island counter, with a note on top of that.
Taking a seat on one of the bar stools, he picked up the note and read.
“It’s in the tea. I have to go back. G.”
Cursing under his breath, he grabbed the other paper - an inventory list of numbers and corresponding packages, from what he could tell. Scrolling through them, he didn’t see it at first. Then the tiny marks at the side of the page caught his eye, and while he couldn’t be sure, it looked like they corresponded to at least some of the numbers in the sequence on the title to the diner.
Folding up the papers, he gave the bedroom and the shower that lay beyond a quick, longing glance before turning out the light and heading back into the night.
Assuming she’d gone back to the diner, he stopped at a convenience store for a map, trying to decide between the quickest route with the potential to get ahead of her or the route she was most likely to take, in hopes of catching up. She should have waited for him. He wished he knew when she’d left.
Deciding on the quickest route, he was back on the road in less than ten minutes, hoping he’d get there in time. At the late hour, traffic would be light and with any luck, he’d reach the diner before sunrise.
* * * * *
It was dark when Genevieve reached the diner, and she was cautious, abandoning the car behind some large boulders out of sight and going the rest of the way on foot. Hanging back behind her father’s trailer, she watched for what seemed like hours for any movement or sign of Jenkins’ men, but everything was dark and quiet.
Her heart racing at every tiny noise, she moved past the trailer, past the old cars, and ran across the small distance between the homestead and the diner, one-hundred percent sure that she’d made enough noise to raise the alarm and get herself shot as she flung herself against the side of the building and tried to catch her breath.
Still, no one came. She went to the back door and fitted her key in the lock, relieved when it still opened the door. Not bothering with lights, she wrinkled her nose at the coppery smell of blood that still hung in the air, and went as quickly as she could to the walk-in freezer.
The electricity was still on, and the unit hummed louder as she approached, visualizing the square door that was her target half way up one of the sides between the shelves. Her father had showed it to her once when she was visiting - his own personal stash of specialty items he kept back for special occasions. If he’d been stealing tea from the shipments, she’d put money on finding them there.
The light automatically came on when she pulled the freezer door open, and she cringed, wedging a box in the door to keep it from swinging shut while she searched. There was a failsafe handle inside the freezer to ensure that no one could be trapped, but it still made her nervous to be in there with the door shut.
Making her way quickly to the back, she shoved boxes of spoiling food aside and tried to ignore the smell as she reached out and pulled open the square door to her father’s stash. Several stacks of small packages in plain brown paper sat neatly to one side, and she took the first one out, noting that the number on top matched the last number in sequence from the title.
Carefully ripping a hole in the package, she wiggled her fingers through the tea leaves, the scent of jasmine and fresh grass wafting up into her grateful nose. She was just about to give up when one of her fingers brushed something small and hard, and with a little work, she pulled it out and held it up to the light.
“Wow,” she breathed, watching the light play in the many faucets of what appeared to be a small diamond. “Beautiful.”
At just that moment, the light went out and the door to the freezer slammed shut with a loud, angry click.
Enjoy
this post? Support your author:
format every Friday right here on the blog for free. When the story is
done, it will be edited, polished and available for sale at all your
favorite online retailers.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 |
Jasmine Betrayal
Part 18
The moon was high when Max finally walked down the block to his house, doing his best not to hobble on a badly twisted knee. The neighborhood was quiet, but he remained alert just the same. It had taken longer than he’d thought it might to shake his captors, but they’d made the mistake of putting his plastic-tied wrists close to a sharp metal edge, and that had been the only chance he needed.
He didn’t see any sign of movement or light as he went around to the back door, but it would make sense for Genevieve to be in bed. The very thought of climbing in next to her and pulling her body close to his was enough to send blood rushing south of his waistband, and he moved a little quicker.
No vehicle in the driveway either, he noted on the way by. Good girl. Reaching up, he found the spare key above the door frame and let himself in, bolting the door after himself as he turned on the kitchen light.
The room was clean - too clean, once he thought about it for a moment. Not even a glass beside the sink, but there was a piece of paper on the long island counter, with a note on top of that.
Taking a seat on one of the bar stools, he picked up the note and read.
“It’s in the tea. I have to go back. G.”
Cursing under his breath, he grabbed the other paper - an inventory list of numbers and corresponding packages, from what he could tell. Scrolling through them, he didn’t see it at first. Then the tiny marks at the side of the page caught his eye, and while he couldn’t be sure, it looked like they corresponded to at least some of the numbers in the sequence on the title to the diner.
Folding up the papers, he gave the bedroom and the shower that lay beyond a quick, longing glance before turning out the light and heading back into the night.
Assuming she’d gone back to the diner, he stopped at a convenience store for a map, trying to decide between the quickest route with the potential to get ahead of her or the route she was most likely to take, in hopes of catching up. She should have waited for him. He wished he knew when she’d left.
Deciding on the quickest route, he was back on the road in less than ten minutes, hoping he’d get there in time. At the late hour, traffic would be light and with any luck, he’d reach the diner before sunrise.
* * * * *
It was dark when Genevieve reached the diner, and she was cautious, abandoning the car behind some large boulders out of sight and going the rest of the way on foot. Hanging back behind her father’s trailer, she watched for what seemed like hours for any movement or sign of Jenkins’ men, but everything was dark and quiet.
Her heart racing at every tiny noise, she moved past the trailer, past the old cars, and ran across the small distance between the homestead and the diner, one-hundred percent sure that she’d made enough noise to raise the alarm and get herself shot as she flung herself against the side of the building and tried to catch her breath.
Still, no one came. She went to the back door and fitted her key in the lock, relieved when it still opened the door. Not bothering with lights, she wrinkled her nose at the coppery smell of blood that still hung in the air, and went as quickly as she could to the walk-in freezer.
The electricity was still on, and the unit hummed louder as she approached, visualizing the square door that was her target half way up one of the sides between the shelves. Her father had showed it to her once when she was visiting - his own personal stash of specialty items he kept back for special occasions. If he’d been stealing tea from the shipments, she’d put money on finding them there.
The light automatically came on when she pulled the freezer door open, and she cringed, wedging a box in the door to keep it from swinging shut while she searched. There was a failsafe handle inside the freezer to ensure that no one could be trapped, but it still made her nervous to be in there with the door shut.
Making her way quickly to the back, she shoved boxes of spoiling food aside and tried to ignore the smell as she reached out and pulled open the square door to her father’s stash. Several stacks of small packages in plain brown paper sat neatly to one side, and she took the first one out, noting that the number on top matched the last number in sequence from the title.
Carefully ripping a hole in the package, she wiggled her fingers through the tea leaves, the scent of jasmine and fresh grass wafting up into her grateful nose. She was just about to give up when one of her fingers brushed something small and hard, and with a little work, she pulled it out and held it up to the light.
“Wow,” she breathed, watching the light play in the many faucets of what appeared to be a small diamond. “Beautiful.”
At just that moment, the light went out and the door to the freezer slammed shut with a loud, angry click.
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