by Emelia Blair
It is another twenty minutes before the car stops, and the car doors slam shut. Frozen in fear, I remain where I am.
These are men who kill people without a second thought. Cold fear grips me by the throat, making it hard for me to breathe. If I am discovered here, I have little doubt that what they will do to me will be much worse.
But Bryan’s laughing face comes to the forefront of my mind, and I feel my resolve grow. If there is a chance I can get Bryan out of here, I will willingly take that risk.
I check my phone again and see that Fergus didn't respond. If Agatha hadn’t lost her phone, I would have texted her.
Taking a deep breath, I manage to remove the tools in front of me and peek out the slit of the trunk and see only concrete stretching on for miles.
There are no voices either, so I carefully slip out, taking one wrench with me, just in case I need to fight for my life at some point.
Looking around, I blink when I recognize the place. It is the abandoned slaughterhouse on the edge of town. My fingers move quickly over my phone as I text the address to Fergus.
There are three buildings, two warehouses, and the slaughterhouse in the middle, but only the slaughterhouse has a few lights shimmering inside that are visible from the windows. Creeping towards it, wrench in hand, I test the doorknob, and when it opens without any hesitation, I walk in, quietly closing the door shut behind me.
I wince at the smell of old blood, and the dangling hooks and chains make me shiver as sweat pools at the base of my spine. I have never liked this place, even when the kids at the foster home had once gathered here on Halloween. It is too creepy for me.
The building is a large one and a haunting silence, surrounded by soft footsteps, makes me bite my lower lip.
I hate places like these.
They scare me shitless, and I am trying to muster every bit of strength I have not to run screaming from this horrorfest.
As I climb up the stairs, I wince at every creak, and at one point, I take off my shoes, hiding them in a corner. My reindeer-socked feet make no sound as I walk over the long balcony-type thing that overlooks the entire slaughterhouse.
There is no one inside.
Maybe they are in the other building?
I am just leaning down to grab my shoes when I hear footsteps on the ground floor, and I immediately duck.
I can’t make out the person walking, but I see them round a corner.
Eyes narrowed, I wait for them to leave before sprinting down, shoes in hand. Ignoring the dried blood on the ground, I stay behind the coverage the machines give me and dart around the corner, only to see another part of the building, an empty space with two chairs in the center, and an overhead light that flickers.
It is the man tied to one of the chairs who steals my breath.
The familiar tuft of brown hair, those weary green eyes that are darker than mine. His face is streaked with grime and sweat, and days’ old blood.
Tears fill my eyes, and I step into the light. “Bryan.”
Bryan’s eyes widen in horror at seeing me. “Sarah! Oh, shit! You need to get out of here!”
My hands are going to the ropes that bind him so tightly. “What are you talking about? I’m here to get you out!”
“Are you fucking insane?” Bryan hisses at me, his eyes terrified. “Leave me here and get out. Before he comes back!”
I pull at the knots, managing to tug one of them loose, my frustration growing. “Before who comes back? Help me with this, you idiot, so we can leave!”
A familiar voice sounds behind me. “He means, me.”
Jumping, I turn around, wrench raised, when my mouth falls open.
Seth stands there, leaning against the wall, a takeaway coffee container in his hand, looking amused. He isn’t wearing his spectacles, and he has on a sharp black dress shirt with a pair of jeans. His dark brown hair is slicked back, and there is a cruel edge to him that I have never seen before.
“Hello, Sarah.”
13
Fergus
I stare at the clock and then at the door.
An hour passed, and there is still no sign of Sarah.
I look over to see Zayn and Agatha involved in a deep discussion about the game, with Ian working on his tablet, one hand playing with Agatha’s golden tendrils.
“Shouldn’t she be back by now?” I voice loudly, and Agatha looks up at me and then glances at the clock with a frown.
“You’re right. Maybe she went to a visit a friend?”
I shake my head. “Not with you guys here. She would consider that rude. I thought she just wanted to clear her head.”
“Not even this Seth guy? They seem pretty close. Aren’t they childhood friends or something?” Zayn comments.
I growl. “That guy wants her. She’s too busy brother-zoning him to realize.”
Agatha slaps Ian’s hand away and looks my way. “She’s never mentioned him to me, and we hang out a lot. What does he do? Is he richer than you?”
I stare at her. “I don’t think money is the problem here, Agatha. The guy runs the local community center, anyways. So, I doubt he’s rolling in dough.”
Zayn tilts his head, a strange expression on his face. “He’s running a community center? Which one?”
I shrug. “The one near her apartment. I don’t know the name.”
“Where does she live?” Zayn gets up and picks up my laptop, settling on the island counter.
When I rattle off the address, his fingers whisper over the keyboard.
“What are you doing?” I ask, putting the cake in the refrigerator. “Why is the community center so important?”
Ian puts his tablet aside and wanders over to where we stand, Agatha close behind.
Zayn doesn't say anything for a moment, before he turns the laptop around for us to see. “Is this the one? Seth Turner?”
Seeing the website with the familiar face of Sarah’s friend on it, I feel a hint of uneasiness. “Yeah, what about it?”
Zayn stares at Seth’s face on the screen. “This community center houses fresh gang recruits, kids, teenagers. I’ve heard this place being mentioned quite frequently. I don’t think Sarah’s friend is what he appears to be.”
I feel a chill crawl down my spine. “What do you mean? Are you saying he might be part of the gang?”
Zayn meets my eyes, his holding a chilling finality. “I’m saying he might be the leader of this gang.”
Agatha tucks her hand in the crook of my elbow and studies Zayn. “Just because he runs a community center which is the hotspot for gang recruits? That’s far-fetched.”
Ian interrupts. “Give me ten minutes, and I can have his whole life in front of us in a heartbeat.”
He moves to pick up his tablet and wearing an intense look on his face, he gets to work.
Zayn glances at him and then looks at me. “It would make sense as well. There were four guys who cornered Sarah that evening. All four are dead. You got attacked soon after meeting him, although the gang has no beef with you. The only common factor here between those deaths and the ambush on you, is Sarah.”
He stares at the screen. “I had heard everything was over a woman. It wasn’t Ruby, but Sarah.”
I grip the counter, my knuckles turning white. “Bryan must have realized that Seth wanted his sister and he fought with him over it.”
Agatha looks pale. “That makes more sense than anything. He’s obsessed with her.”
Ian makes a small noise of disbelief. “Offshore accounts, constant transactions of huge sums: this man is no community center manager.”
I take a step back, releasing Agatha’s hold on me. “Okay, I need to find Sarah. If it got into her head to go and talk to him, she could be in grave danger. Where’s my phone?”
I pat my pockets and remember that I left it in the bedroom to charge. Striding to the huge room that I now share with the woman who has a strong hold over my heart, I blink when I see the message light blinking.
&nb
sp; Two messages from Sarah.
It takes a second for my worry to develop into full-blown panic. Running into the living area, I grab my jacket. “Sarah climbed into the car of one of the men. She’s at the abandoned slaughterhouse.”
Growling out coordinates, I push the sofa back, revealing a loose floorboard. Taking it out, I remove a few guns and bullets.
Agatha stares at me, her face white. “I thought you got rid of those.”
Zayn walks over to grab one and sticks it in his jeans. “I told him not to.”
Ian conceals another. “Agatha, you stay here. Get some police backup. We might need it.”
She doesn’t protest, sitting down heavily into the armchair, nodding her head.
I can’t think about her aversion to violence right now; my mind is too busy conjuring up all kinds of scenarios that Sarah could have landed herself in.
Stupid, stupid woman!
As Zayn takes the wheel, I can’t help but admire her reckless bravery as well.
Zayn drives like a madman and while it should have taken us forty minutes to get there, we arrive in under twenty. I tried not to count the red lights we ran.
My heart is flipping in my chest, fear so tangent that I can almost taste it.
Please let Sarah be alright.
Seeing the red car in the middle of the empty courtyard, we park in a dark corner and head towards the slaughterhouse.
I know this place like the back of my hand. When we were young, on our vacation from the boarding school, we would spend hours exploring this place.
Using the back entrance, guns loaded, we stealthily walk along the wall until I hear Sarah’s voice. “You’re crazy, Seth.”
Her voice holds undertones of anger and fear.
Inching towards the room, I finally see her standing in front of a young man, protectively. I can’t make out his face, but I know that it is her brother.
A discarded coffee cup lays near Seth’s feet, and my eyes rake over his form with disgust. I can see the glitter of excitement and lust in his eyes, and I want nothing more than to shoot his eyes out for looking at my woman like that.
“I’m offering you a fair trade, Sarah. Take it, and Bryan walks free.”
Sarah hisses at him, naked fury in her voice. “I’m not some whore who’ll spread her legs for you. I love Fergus.”
My heart stops beating for a second on hearing her words.
She loves me?
Seth smiles at her, a dangerously cool look. “Then you can watch me rip your brother to pieces. I’ve mastered the art of skinning.”
Sarah trembles and steps back, completely hiding her brother from view. “No.”
“No?” he echoes, taking one step forward. “I don’t think you understand the position you’re in, Sarah. Killing your lover off isn’t something I’m going to lose any sleep over.”
“You leave Fergus out of this!” she snarls at him, and I feel a hint of pride and bone-chilling fear at how she stands her ground.
Zayn puts a firm hand on my shoulder, gesturing that he and Ian would surround the room.
I nod and wait, knowing that I can only act once they are in position to block Seth’s escape route.
“I spent years building this empire, Sarah, and you were always the end goal. I would have liked it if you remained in ignorant bliss of my career. But now that you know, that’s even better.”
“You’re sick, and you’re crazy, and I would rather stab myself in the eye with a fork than sleep with you.”
Seth’s smile drops. “That can also be arranged. Although, breaking you in sounds like more of a fun experience. Of course, if you refuse, your brother and your little boyfriend will have to be killed. I don’t want either one of them blabbing or protesting.”
Seeing the gleam of Zayn’s watch in the corner, a few feet behind Seth, I walk into the light. “Am I late?”
Seth sees me, but it worries me that he is not the least bit perturbed. “Look at that, Sarah. Your lover brought himself to his execution.”
Sarah pales on seeing me, and her brother stares at me, recognizing me on sight. “You?”
“Hello, Bryan. Fancy meeting you here.”
Bryan gapes at me, and I turn my attention to Sarah. “You okay?”
Her lower lip trembles and I can see her trying to remain brave. Her voice cracks, “Just peachy.”
“The police are on their way,” I tell Seth, who shrugs his shoulders.
“We’ll be long gone by then,” he tells me. “You didn’t think I wouldn’t have my people here, did you? And they outnumber you, so, I don’t think the police will have much to do here.”
“Wrong again, asshole.” Zayn’s gun is pointed at the back of Seth’s head.
I see Seth smile, amused, and I don't get it till the whole place lights up like the Fourth of July, and my heart falls.
We are surrounded by at least seven men, all with guns pointed in our direction.
Seth smirks. “You were saying?”
“I’m sorry, Sarah,” Bryan mumbles, his heartbroken eyes meeting those of his devastated sister.
She swallows and tries to give him a watery version of her cheerful smile. “It’s okay. I know he manipulated you into this. Whatever happens, you should know I love you.”
Seth wipes an imaginary tear from the corner of his eye. “That’s so touching.”
My gut fills with fury, and it nearly slips my notice how Bryan is still struggling with his bonds, two of them already loose.
I step behind him, hiding my hands from view. Since my back is to the wall, nobody is able to see what I am doing. I put one hand on his shoulder, the other quietly slipping him the pocket knife I have with me. “Sorry, kid. We did try.”
His expression doesn’t change for even a second, as his hands get busy. “Yeah, well, you could have tried keeping my sister away from all this shit.”
The knife is sharp, and I see where he nicks himself a few times. However, the boy is skilled, and within a minute, the ropes are cut open. He grasps them in his hand to keep them from falling onto the ground and alerting anybody.
Zayn does not lower his gun, and Ian has his gun pointed in the same direction. “Even if your men were to shoot us, I can assure you, we’re skilled marksmen, and both of us have our guns aimed at your chest. Both of us can’t miss, and our fingers are on the triggers.”
Seth frowns and is about to say something when Sarah takes a step forward.
I don't notice the wrench in her hand until she flings it in the air at Seth’s face, dropping him like a bag of potatoes.
And as quickly as he goes down, chaos breaks.
Bryan drags his sister away from the gunfire, and I jump to safety, watching Ian and Zayn narrowly using the desk in the corner as cover. My gun out, I unload clip after clip, taking down one man after the other from the behind the wall.
Bryan has his hands over his sister’s ears, who has her eyes closed.
The loud sound of the bullets ricocheting against the walls, the screams of those being shot, the deafening ear sounds of the guns, have my adrenaline rushing.
Zayn is cursing loudly, and I see him reload his gun two times.
Hearing somebody behind me, I immediately turn and see a large man descending upon us. Not wanting to shoot in front of Sarah, I duck when he punches and kick his legs out from under him.
When he raises his gun, I kick it out of the way and punch his face a few times, making it unrecognizable. I give him the chance to get on his feet and go for his middle.
Groaning, he stumbles into the room where the gunfire is happening, and one bullet in his side has him dropping to the ground.
“You okay?” Bryan shouts over the sound, and I nod, reloading my gun.
“Watch Sarah!”
What goes on for one minute seems like hours on end to me. While we manage to secure safe spots that guarantee our survival, the gang members are in the open. None of us aimed to kill, so nobody is dead, hopefully.
&nbs
p; “It’s over,” I breathe out after silence ensues.
Zayn stands up and scrutinizes the bodies before commenting, “I was actually expecting to die here. If that table hadn’t been there–”
Ian is holding his arm, wincing. “Fucking bullet grazed my fucking arm.”
My blood still roaring, I study his arm. “You’ll live.”
Turning to where Sarah stands, her eyes glassy with shock, I tuck my gun in my belt and pull her from her protesting brother. “Are you okay?”
Her voice is a harsh whisper, “Are they dead?”
I shake my head. “Not likely. Let me take you home. The police will be arriving any time now.”
We just make it to the edge of the room which would take us through to the main slaughterhouse area when I hear a shuffle, and I turn around.
The side of Seth’s face is a mess, bloodied, and his nose broken. He wears a furious expression on his face, and as he stands up, he raises his gun.
Just then, the door behind him opens, and something slams in the back of his head, making him fall face forward with a loud cry.
A familiar face looks at us, a mop of golden hair and blue eyes with eyebrows that waggle at us.
“Hey, guys. What’d I miss?”
Agatha’s older brother and one of my best friends, Philip, stands in the doorway, an iron baseball bat slung over his shoulder, his trench coat flapping around his ankles.
He grins at us. “Hope you don’t mind. I brought some friends.”
Just then, as if on cue, the sound of the sirens cuts into the air, and the flash of blue and red reflects in the windows.
“Could you be any more dramatic?” Zayn asks, rolling his eyes.
Philip gives him a dazzling smile that broke many hearts. “That’s how I roll.”
Ian groans loudly. “His cheesy lines are hurting me more than this bullet wound. Somebody shoot him.”
Philip ignores him and steps through the unconscious people, to me.
“You must be Sarah,” he introduces himself to my shell-shocked girlfriend.
“I must be,” she murmurs against my chest but gives him a wan smile.
Philip gives me a once-over. “Agatha called me. I was at the airport. Turns out Charlotte isn’t sick; she’s pregnant. Don’t tell her I told you.”