Sin of Silence (Sinner's Empire Book 1) Read online

  “What are you doing?” the other man demanded. “We got what we need. Finish the job so we can get on with it.”

  She felt sick, genuinely nauseous to the point that she would’ve doubled over and gripped her knees if she could have. By ‘finish the job,’ he meant kill her. She was a loose end, a witness to a murder. They had no choice, she had to go. Jozef glared at the other man, and then turned and dragged her toward the stairs.

  Shaun was dizzy, hyperventilating, floaty. She was disassociating from what was happening. Multiple times in the space of an hour or so, she’d been positive she was going to die, then, when the real thing finally came, when she was certain he intended to pull the trigger, something had held him back. She didn’t know what, couldn’t explain it. She couldn’t even really be grateful that she was still alive. She couldn’t possibly guess what was going to happen to her now.

  Jozef pulled her up the stairs and through the house. She glanced around and saw dusty unused furniture. There were still drop clothes on some of the items. She suspected the family that had lived there fled the war, closing up the house and moving somewhere safer. These guys were probably seizing on an opportunity to use it while it was empty. It was in a remote area outside of the city, ideal for criminal activity. At least, she hoped her hypothesis was true. What if they’d killed the family and were using the house as a base for their operations?

  Jozef hauled her toward the van, opened the passenger door and flung her at it. She caught the edge of the frame and glanced back in time to see his leather jacket filling her vision. He didn’t wait for her to climb in but shoved her until she was halfway laying across the seat and gripping the dashboard for balance. He stuffed her legs inside and slammed the door shut. She righted herself and turned to watch as he confronted the man who stormed out of the house behind him. They embarked on an angry conversation, the thug guy yelling at Jozef, and Jozef responding with rapid, angry hand gestures.

  Shaun had no idea what they were saying, the conversation was too fast, too angry, and Jozef’s back was to her so she couldn’t see his hands. Finally, the guy gave a sharp nod and turned his malevolent gaze on her, staring at her through the passenger window. He pulled the van keys from his pocket and tossed them at Jozef, then he turned on his heel and strode back into the house.

  Jozef watched the house for a few seconds, seeming to gather himself, then came around the front of the van and opened the door, climbing into the driver’s seat. He ignored her, sliding the keys into the ignition and turning. As the engine flared to life, hope filled her chest. He hadn’t killed her in the basement along with that other man, and he was taking her somewhere else, maybe back to the hospital. Hell, she didn’t care if he ditched her in the middle of nowhere, she was just happy to be alive.

  Shaun’s relief was short-lived when Jozef turned off the main road and started following a bumpy dirt road into a sparsely wooded area. Her alarm grew as they continued to drive with no houses or signs of civilization. Her heart began to pound and her palms grew clammy.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, then shook her head at herself.

  Of course, he couldn’t answer while he was driving. He wouldn’t even look at her, giving her absolutely no reassurance.

  “Are you… are you… going to kill me?” she had some trouble forcing the words past a throat constricting with panic.

  She gripped the door latch so tightly she thought it might leave a permanent mark in her hand. Not that it would matter if he was about to kill her shortly. Surreptitiously she tried the door, but it was child locked. She couldn’t get out unless he let her out.

  She tried to take long even breaths, rather than shallow gasps. She thought back to the single class she’d taken on hostage situations. She’d travelled to war zones, often in places where terrorism was a real threat. It had seemed smart at the time to take a class on hostage negotiation in case she ever found herself in a situation that would demand that kind of skill. Between her panic and the fact that she’d taken the class about five years ago, she couldn’t recall all the steps, but a few filtered through the terror.

  Talk to the person holding you, humanize yourself in their eyes.

  “I’m thirty-four.” She looked directly at him as she spoke. Again, not so much as a twitch gave away that he was listening, but she was going to try anyway. “I’m a neurosurgeon in Montréal, Canada, but sometimes I work with Doctors Without Borders. We travel to other countries to help bolster the health-care system during times of crisis. I have a cat named Fitzwilliam Darcy, but we call him Fitzy. He lives with my mom when I’m not at home. He’s a really good boy, he always eats all of his food, and he uses his litter box. Sometimes he gets out and causes havoc in the neighborhood. He’s a big guy and he likes to hunt so he’s brought home some pretty big birds.”

  Shaun was babbling, but she didn’t know what else to do. She tried to clear her thoughts and start over. Jozef wouldn’t care about her twenty-pound beast of an orange tabby. She had to somehow convince him that she was more valuable alive than dead. She needed to give him something of value, something he could relate to.

  “I’m the only person my mom has left. My dad passed away a few years ago of pancreatic cancer. There was nothing we could do but watch him deteriorate.” She closed her eyes and summoned a picture of her father in her mind. He was a big man, much bigger than either Shaun or her mother. He wore glasses, almost always had a serious expression that covered a playful nature. He taught neuroscience at the University. His funeral had been massive with mourners from all the different communities he’d been part of including faculty and students from the university, colleagues from the hospital, and volunteers from various charitable organizations. He was so well loved. She needed that unconditional love and support right now, to get through whatever was coming her way. “My mom was devastated when he died, it took a lot to get her on her feet again. She needs me. She hates that I travel into war zones, she’s terrified something will happen to me. Without me, she won’t have anyone.”

  Despair pierced her as she realized not a single word was getting through. He continued to drive, though he was slowing down. If she was going to convince him, she had to do it now, before they got to their destination. She frantically searched for something, anything, that could sway him. Then she landed on it, their rare form of communication.

  “You knew that I knew sign language, didn’t you?”

  His eyes slid to her for a second, then flicked forward.

  “I’ve been trying to figure out how you knew to target me,” she continued. “You knew that I could understand FSL; that’s why you picked me, isn’t it? But how did you know?” When he didn’t answer, she continued, “You saw me with that kid, didn’t you?”

  Shaun had stumbled over a child, around ten years old, begging for food vouchers outside of a shop. She’d kneeled on the ground next to him and tried to talk to him, but he’d shaken his head and pointed at his ears. Sadly, it wasn’t uncommon for either temporary or permanent hearing loss to occur from the concussive force of a bomb.

  Shaun had used sign language with the boy. He’d tried to follow her hand movements, and she realized that he was just learning sign language. She convinced him to come with her to the hospital for a quick check up and to learn more sign language.

  He’d run home to ask permission from his mom and had been coming to the hospital every day since. That had been about a week ago. She supposed Jozef could have seen her using it in the hospital, with her little protege following her around, but she doubted it. Someone as terrifying and imposing as Jozef would stand out.

  Jozef looked at her and gave a brief nod. He refocused on his driving, turning the wheel and pulling the vehicle off the road. She felt dizzy with panic and lack of air. She continued to grip the door handle.

  “You knew that I knew how to understand you before you realized you needed me. That man was injured sometime today.” Her words came out in a jumble, but she hoped he understood.
“Did you follow me back to the hospital that day? Were you curious about me? Because the only people who can understand you are probably in your inner circle.” She was guessing, but maybe if she got close enough to the truth, she could connect with him.

  He stopped the van and turned the ignition off. They were in a section of trees, not too thick, but remote enough to hide a dead body. Her body. No one would find her out here. Not for a long, long time. Shaun’s mother would never know. Her daughter would disappear without a word. Dead in a warzone, but not because of the war.

  Jozef turned to look at her, his forehead creased into a troubled frown.

  Shaun stared back at him, and then did the only thing she could think of to get through to him. She signed, please don’t kill me. I don’t want to die.

  He gave no indication that he either saw or understood. His face smoothed back into indifference and he reached for his door. As soon as it opened, her door unlocked too. Shaun gripped the latch and yanked, then shoved the door open. She hadn’t been wearing a seatbelt, so she was able to fling herself unhindered from the vehicle and start running.

  Shaun was not a runner, but she kept herself in decent physical shape. Long hours on her feet at the hospital required that she take good care of herself. Eat good foods, exercise whenever she could spare a few minutes. She thought she might have a decent chance of evading her captor. He was tall and bulky with muscle. How fast could a thug really run? He probably spent most of his time committing crimes instead of jogging.

  He was on top of her in under a minute.

  She could hear him crashing through the brush behind her. Before she had a chance to look over her shoulder, he grabbed her around the waist and shoved her to the ground.

  Shaun hit hard, the side of her face striking a branch as she landed. She felt searing pain through her cheek as the branch scraped her. She rolled onto her back and stared up at him. Jozef towered over her, his legs on either side of hers. They stared at each other for a long time, tension laden emotion flowing between them, like lightning strikes.

  She felt him, felt his gaze, his gut-wrenching intention. His determination to do what he had to. His despair, his hatred, his desire. He had to kill her, but it was tearing him up inside. Not like when he'd killed Danilo and the man in the basement: stone cold, emotionless. She suspected this was the real Jozef, deep inside, his heart on his sleeve. He didn’t want to kill Shaun.

  She’d never felt quite the connection with another human being the way she did now. She was stunned by it. Is that what happened to people before they died? They connected with those around them as they returned to the earth? She'd never believed in anything like that before, she was too logical. But, as she faced her own death, she needed to latch onto something, or someone, so she wouldn’t feel so alone. Even if it was the person who was about to end her life.

  Jozef reached down and gripped her shoulder, wrenching her to her knees. Pain shot through her arm. She cried out and grabbed her shoulder. He moved his hand away and reached into his leather jacket, pulling out the same gun he’d used to kill Danilo and the other man. Shaun stared at it, sick dread now replacing the almost euphoric feeling she’d experienced seconds earlier. This was it, the moment of her death.

  He turned the pistol on her, pressing it to her head. Her eyes started to drift shut, but then she changed her mind and opened them. She would look at her murderer as he killed her. If she had to die, then she would gaze upon Jozef. The man who couldn’t talk. The man who had a duty to perform. One that came above his humanity.

  “Please find a way to tell my mom where my body is. Her name is Fatima Patterson of Montréal, Canada.”

  Her eyes locked with his and he gave only the slightest nod, indicating he’d heard her. Determination and despair clashed in his beautiful velvet blue eyes. She wondered, as she looked at him, what he saw in her eyes? Fear, hatred, anger? Or acceptance and regret?

  His finger tightened on the trigger.

  Chapter Six

  Each breath seemed to linger in her chest for much longer than usual before puffing out through her mouth. Was this what death felt like? Time slowed down to a crawl and each sense hyper-engaged all at the same time. But then, Jozef jerked the gun away from her head and time sped back up. The warm sunshine filtered through the leaves high above their heads. The flutter of a bird’s wings sounded as it took flight.

  Jozef stalked away from her, his shoes rustling in the dead leaves and grass. He grasped his head as indecision warred in his brain. Shaun stayed crouched on the ground, watching warily. Then he turned and grabbed her again, yanking her to her feet. Shaun swayed and thought she would go back down until he steadied her, sliding his gun hand around her back. She gasped and jerked in his arms as she felt the metal press against her spine.

  He growled in frustration and set her away from him. As she stumbled back, he put his gun underneath his jacket and back into its holster. The air left Shaun’s lungs in a whoosh, and her knees started to give out. Once more, he lunged toward her as she fell. This time when he caught her, she allowed his touch. It was either that or fall in a painful heap to the ground.

  He held her upright, looking down at her with a frown. He waited for a few minutes as she filled her lungs slowly with air and breathed out, over and over until her heart wasn’t racing and her panic began to subside. Their eyes locked and a kind of energy seemed to pass between them, as though he was giving her some of his strength while she sorted herself out. They breathed together, in and out, until she was calmer. Finally, when she was in control of herself, he righted her and, gripping her arm, walked her back to the van.

  As they walked, the full impact of what almost happened hit her and Shaun began shaking uncontrollably. She had come within seconds of losing her life. Maybe it was her decision to keep her eyes open that saved her. Or maybe it was her plea that he find a way to tell her mother where to find her body. Whatever it was, it might only be temporary. She would have to try and find out what he planned on doing with her, since it looked like shooting her in the head and leaving her body in the woods was no longer on the table.

  When they reached the van, Shaun grabbed the door handle, about to open it, but Jozef’s hand came down on her shoulder. He turned her around to face him and then took a step back. She looked at him in confusion, her adrenalin starting to rise again. Had he changed his mind? Did he want to make sure to kill her outside of the van so he wouldn’t have to worry about bloodstains inside it?

  Most people who used sign language used a combination of facial cues, body language and hand signs to express themselves. Facial expressions were often vital in order to communicate mood and intent. Jozef was completely different. His facial expressions were mostly closed, and his body language was stiff and uncompromising, which left her with only hand signals for communication.

  He lifted his hands and began signing, I’m not going to kill you.

  Relief slammed into her with the intensity of a freight train, stealing her breath for a moment. He wasn’t going to kill her!

  “Thank you,” she said quickly.

  I can’t let you go; you’re a witness.

  “I promise I won’t say anything.”

  He shook his head. You’re a liability now. You must stay with me. Permanently.

  “But how can I do that? Eventually I have to go home.” She understood what he was saying, but she wanted to deny it.

  If she wanted to live, then she would have to become his captive. Forever. But how could she possibly do that? Never see her mother again? Never go back to her surgery at the hospital? What kind of life was that? She couldn’t wrap her mind around it.

  He reached out and shook her arm, regaining her attention. Choose now, dead witness, or stay with me and stay alive.

  She was still shaking her head, but reality was sinking in. She wasn’t going to choose death. So she would have to choose life… as his captive. Or at least until she could either convince him to let her go or escape. She sto
pped shaking her head and bowed it instead.

  “Okay, I’ll stay with you,” she whispered.

  He tipped her chin up and signed, you must marry me.

  Dread swept through her. She shook her head. “No.”

  Yes, you will become my wife.

  “Or die?” she demanded.

  Yes.

  She pressed herself back against the van. It was too much. He could keep her with him, he didn’t have to marry her. To make it so… official. Shaun had never given marriage much consideration. She’d dated a little, but never anything serious. Work consumed her every waking moment until the men just drifted away and she forgot they were ever there. Somehow, she couldn’t imagine Jozef ever drifting out of her line of notice. He was too commanding, too electric and powerful.

  “Why do I have to marry you?” she asked, clinging desperately to the hope that she could convince him otherwise. She wasn’t ready to commit herself to him, a man she suspected was mob affiliated.

  He narrowed his eyes at her, his gaze flicking down her body. She was wearing her basic sky-blue scrubs, nothing enticing. He seemed to be debating with himself on what to say to her, or maybe how much to say to her. Then he gave a sharp nod. My uncle will not allow you to live. You are a witness and witnesses don’t stay alive.

  “Your uncle makes decisions like that?” Her throat was dry, and she had to swallow. She was definitely dealing with the mob, which took things to an even scarier level.

  Jozef nodded, my uncle is head of the family.

  If the head of the family was Jozef’s uncle, then Jozef was probably his enforcer. The muscle behind the man at the top. Though Jozef seemed high up in the organization, his uncle would have final say. Including over her life. If the old man gave the word, her life would end, and probably by Jozef’s hands. But if she were Jozef’s wife, then maybe the uncle would allow her to live.