by Blake Pierce
Biel howled in pain and hobbled backward. Avery was only barely aware of this, though. The cut he had placed on her cheek was bleeding, running down her face and neck. She was pretty sure her face was already bruising from the pallet and his punches, and the pain in her ribs and stomach was among the worst pain she’d ever experienced.
Think of what he did to Ramirez, she thought. Think of what he tried to do to Rose…
She pushed herself to her knees with a cry of pain. She was dizzy and reeling but she had no problem focusing on Biel’s figure, a few feet in front of her. He was leaning against the brick wall and although she could clearly see what he was doing, she couldn’t believe it.
He was taking the knife out of his ankle. He screamed as he did it, through gritted teeth. His face was also bleeding, mostly from the opened eyebrow she had delivered through her punches.
He’s not going to stop until one of us is dead, she thought.
She glanced around and still did not see the gun. What she did know, however, was that in about three seconds, he was going to have the knife again. And she couldn’t afford for that to happen.
Still fighting to gather a full breath and leaning to the left to alleviate pain in her right side where the rib was broken, Avery stumbled to the pile of pallets. She saw that several were splintered and broken along the back of the pile. She picked up a section that was two boards wide and even though it was basically falling apart in her hands, she had felt less than five minutes ago just how much of an impact they still possessed.
Biel slid the last little bit of the blade out of his ankle and the moment it was free, Avery was there. She drew the section of pallet back like a baseball bat and swung for the fences. She struck him in the left side of the face as hard as her body would allow. Her ribs screamed bloody murder at the force of it yet she managed to draw back once more.
The first hit had dizzied Biel; he staggered against the wall like a boxer looking for a corner to rest in. By the time his head had cleared, Avery delivered another blow. This one took him right in the chest and doubled him over. With his back exposed, Avery raised the boards a third time and brought them down on the back of his head.
He went down hard and with a gasping sound of pain. But Avery did not stop.
“Jack and Ramirez,” she said, feeling the sadness trying to escape but keeping it at bay with blow after blow. One to his back, one to his legs, and another to his head.
He let out a shaky breath that released a spray of saliva and blood from his mouth.
I could kill him right now, she thought. A few more whacks to the head. Or just find my gun...I could do it. It would be easy.
Or…he could spend the rest of his life in jail. That would be justice. What you want to do is murder.
She started to cry then when she realized she did not care. She was going to kill him. She would face the repercussions later. To hell with it.
With a flashing image of Ramirez’s dead eyes in her head, she raised the boards again.
Just before it was overhead, Biel quickly tilted to the side and reached out toward her. Only reach was not what he was doing. He was stabbing.
A shard of the broken pallet she had been beating him with pierced the meat of her calf. The wood went directly into her skin and she could feel it as Biel pulled down on it.
She dropped the pallet and stumbled backward. When she fell hard on her backside, she immediately tried to grab the wood that he had stabbed her with but could not angle herself to do so. Somehow, in front of her, Biel was getting to his feet. He staggered back and forth as if drunk. His face was a bloody mess and even as he stumbled forward, he spit out a tooth and a lot of blood.
And he chuckled about it.
Avery tried to get to her feet. But a momentarily paralyzed left leg and a broken rib along her right side made that very difficult to do.
Biel brought a hard open-handed slap cross her face. And then another.
“Bitch,” he said. “You’re going to wish you hadn’t told me your little secret. Now that I know you threw my case…I’m going to kill you. And then I’m going to get to your daughter. And for your sake and hers…let’s just hope she’s not a virgin…”
“No!” Avery screamed.
The next time Biel brought his hand across her face, it was in the shape of a fist.
Avery felt her jaw snap. She thought he might have broken it. But she found it hard to care as black dots started to infiltrate her vision. She was dimly aware that he was grabbing her by the collar of her shirt. The world came and went in fuzzy flashes as she fought against blacking out.
In the back of her head, she wondered how long it had been since she sent that text to O’Malley.
She then realized that Biel was dragging her forward. It was slow going because of his ankle. He fell down once, nearly on top of her. He chuckled maniacally the entire time. Blackness started to cloud her vision and she could feel herself going under.
No…fight it. Rose…she’s depending on you. And Ramirez…his memory deserves better than this.
But it was too hard to fight. The pain was everywhere and it was just so much easier to give up. She closed her eyes, trying to focus and fight it off.
But in the end, it was too easy to just keep them closed.
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
Something ice cold forced her to open her eyes.
Her entire body seemed to be in a state of shock. She opened her mouth to gasp but couldn’t. Something was in the way. Something cold. Something wet.
What the hell?
And then she felt her head being pulled upward. It hurt her neck but she was finally able to gasp—to breathe. And Biel was there, his voice in her ear and his bloodied face nuzzling next to hers.
“I hear the sirens,” he said. “I suppose you had backup planned this whole time. But it doesn’t matter. You’re going to die, Avery.”
She drew in a shaky breath but it was cut short as he pushed her head down again. And this time, she pieced together what was going on. His final punch had caused her to black out. But now he was going to drown her. Slowly. And the cold water had brought her back around. With her head pushed under the water, she did everything she could to not panic. Instead, she put together the fragments of her current situation.
They were at the broken lip of the old loading platform. Biel was kneeling at the edge of it. She was lying on her chest and he was pushing her head under. She was already short of breath and could feel her lungs desperately trying to find air.
Hopefully he’ll want to taunt me some more, she thought. Because if he doesn’t pull my head up one more time, I’m going to drown.
Her lungs were aching. It was almost as bad as the pain in her calf and ribs. She knew that soon, her body would start to spasm. Maybe that’s what he was waiting for. If he heard the sirens of backup on the way, maybe he wouldn’t be so slow about it after all.
But mercifully, he simply couldn’t resist himself. She felt her head being pulled back up. She retched and coughed and drew in air greedily. Beside her, Biel was laughing.
“Is that bullshit about your life flashing before your eyes true?” he asked. His voice was garbled and wet. She thought there might be blood trickling down his throat.
Good, she thought. Let him drown in it.
Biel then planted a kiss on her cheek. It was sticky with blood. “It’s been fun, Avery. Just know that when the police do show up, I intend to escape through that door I fooled you with earlier. I’ll do everything I can to escape…and at some point, all of the things I dreamed of doing to you while I was in prison,…your daughter will be the lucky recipient of it all. I’ll tell her you said it was okay.”
She tried to fight against him but he had a knee of her back now, pinning her to the concrete.
She felt his hands in her hair and then he started pushing down.
“Biel—”
Avery barely heard the voice and for a moment, thought it was her own—pleading with him, mayb
e. But no…it was another voice. A man’s…coming from the darkness behind them.
Biel turned around and when he did, he released Avery’s head. Whimpering, she also turned.
Maybe she was blacked out. Or maybe she had brain damage from lack of oxygen for too long. Because what she saw made no sense.
Howard Randall was standing in the shadows. He was holding Avery’s Glock, pointing it at Biel.
“What are you doing here?” Biel asked.
Howard answered with two shots. Both caused Biel to stumble backward. After the second, he dropped to a knee. As Avery scrambled away from the edge of the platform, she saw that both shots had been to the gut.
Howard approached, the gun still leveled at Biel. He looked at Biel curiously, and then at Avery. He then looked back behind them. The sound of sirens approaching was growing louder. Through the haze of her mind, Avery thought they might be two blocks away now.
“You call it, Detective,” Howard said. “Does he die or do we see if he can make it to the hospital once your friends get here? And then, I’m assuming, a very long prison sentence.”
Kill him.
It was on her tongue and the fact that it would be someone else delivering the death freed her of any moral dilemma. But as she started to regain her breath, the events of the last few days caught up to her and she felt herself losing control. She was shuddering, shaking—not crying yet but feeling a torrent of sorrow coming forward.
She knew her duty. She was not supposed to kill if the subject could be brought in. Four gunshots, a hell of a beating, and an ankle that might not ever be useful again. She’d done her best and now had the chance to deliver Biel.
“Prison,” she said. “Let him rot.”
Howard nodded and then looked to the Glock. “You hear that, Biel?” he asked.
Biel had nearly fallen over now but Howard held him steady, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“She’s a good detective,” Howard said. “And she has a good heart. She says you’re going to prison. I, however, think that’s too good for you. And since my moral compass deteriorated long ago…”
He placed the gun underneath Biel’s jaw and pulled the trigger. Avery jumped at the sound of the shot. Blood splattered against Howard’s face but he barely seemed to notice.
As Biel’s body hit the concrete, Howard walked over to Avery. She cringed away from him and he smiled.
“I wouldn’t hurt you,” he said.
He looked to have more to say but the roar of sirens was too close now. Headlights broke the night as at least three cars came down toward the old platform.
Howard smiled.
“We had a good run, huh?”
She wondered what he was doing to do, and had a sudden surge of panic.
“Howard…just drop the gun. Go peacefully.”
He smirked at her.
“I think we’re beyond that now, Detective Black. We’ve always been beyond that.”
The first car appeared, blinding them with their headlights. Then the second and the third. Car doors opened and people started shouting. She was pretty sure she heard O’Malley in there somewhere.
“Howard Randall, drop that gun and hit your knees. If you fail to do so, we will take you down.”
Howard lifted the gun, pointing at the cars.
Two shots were fired his way. One of them caused Howard to stumble backward.
Avery was horrified as Howard fell, nearly doing a back flip into the water.
The moment he splashed in, every cop on the scene came rushing forward. There was a flurry of voices and movement that, in the play of headlights and shadows, was far too chaotic for Avery to follow.
“Avery…shit…Avery, are you okay?”
It was O’Malley. She nodded and when he took her hand, she squeezed it. “Rose,” she said. “She okay?”
“Still sleeping,” he answered. “We have five guys at the motel. Connelly and Finley are leading them.”
She nodded again.
“Avery?”
She tried to respond but she couldn’t. This time when the dark veil tried to drop down over everything, she let it. Because now, it did not feel like giving up. Now, it simply felt like rest…and that was something she thought she deserved.
She gave in to it as the flurry of activity carried on all around her. One of the last things she heard before the dark tide pulled her under was a very alarmed cop, screaming that they didn’t have eyes on him.
Howard Randall was nowhere to be seen.
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
The worst part of her recovery in the weeks that followed was that she missed Ramirez’s funeral. The battle with Biel had done significant damage, the worst being an infection caused by being pierced by the old piece of pallet wood. She’d run a fever of one hundred and four for a day and a half and was far too weak to attend the services.
She’d also received a fractured jaw and a concussion. When she had come to roughly ten hours after she’d passed out underneath Newman’s Wharf, she’d found her jaw swollen and wired shut. Rose had been there, sitting at her bedside. She’d done her best to walk her mother through what the doctors had reported: an infection, fractured jaw, a concussion, two broken ribs, a sprained wrist.
Rose had been the first to tell her that she would not be able to make it to Ramirez’s funeral. Rose had stepped up and gone in her place. She’d told Avery about the service as well as she could but she’d spent most of the effort in tears.
For three days, Avery went in and out of consciousness. Sometimes there was someone there in the room with her. It was usually Rose, but Finley and O’Malley had also made appearances.
On her fourth day, she came to and was able to follow what her doctor was saying. He was a tall man, a little older but fetchingly handsome. He sat carefully on the edge of her bed and gave her the best bedside grin he could.
“You’ve been through hell,” the doctor said. “And your daughter tells me you were upset about not being able to make it the funeral of your friend. I hope you understand that as your doctor, I had to make that call.”
She only nodded. She cried several times while her jaws were wired shut and it had not been comfortable. It had actually been a little humiliating. Even worse was that she could only drink through a straw and she’d had to have Rose hold the cup for her the first few times.
“Hopefully you’ll forgive me for that over time,” the doctor went on. “Also, hopefully this good news will help. Tests this morning show that the infection is completely gone. Also, as long as X-rays check out today, we can probably un-wire your jaw tomorrow. The fracture wasn’t that bad, but it was in a tricky place. We had to be absolutely cautious and take no chances. The ribs will take some time to heal and we’re going to want to keep an eye on your head due to the concussion. Your wrist should be okay within a week or so. And I think that about covers it.”
He then handed her a pad and a pen from the breast pocket of his doctor’s jacket. “Do you have any other questions for me?” he asked.
She thought about it for a moment and then scribbled down: Howard Randall?
The doctor frowned and shrugged. “I’ve not heard much about the aftermath of your brawl,” he said. “If you’re up to it, I think I can allow one of the men that have been in and out for the last few days to come by and speak with you. Any preference?”
Again, she wrote down a name: O’Malley.
“I’ll see how quickly I can get him here,” the doctor said. “Also, you should know that your daughter has not left your side. She did make it to the funeral but other than that, she’s been a resident of the hospital these last four days. So…anything else?”
Avery shook her head. The doctor took his leave and left her to the quiet room. A few minutes later, Rose came into the room. She had a container from the cafeteria. She smiled at her mother, seeing that she seemed to be wholly coherent for the first time in days.
She came over and kissed Avery on the forehead. “How ya
doing, Mom?” she asked.
Avery used the pad the doctor had left and wrote down Been better. Living, tho. She paused for a moment and then started writing again. This took a bit longer and when she was done, she showed her note to Rose.
I love you and I love that you have stayed here. But things are safe now. Go home. Get some sleep. Get a shower. Eat a good meal. Don’t waste away here. I know what that’s like and it sucks.
Rose shook her head. “I’ve thought about it, but I can’t. After everything that happened, I’m too scared. I’m not proud to admit it, but it’s the truth.”
Avery nodded her understanding and patted the side of the bed. She scooted over, grimacing through the pain in her ribs and wrist.
Rose didn’t even bother to pretend that she wasn’t going to take the invitation. She carefully crawled into bed beside her mother. Avery couldn’t hold her like she wanted to, so she simple closed her eyes against the simple presence of her daughter. And with that sense of security, she fell into the first natural sleep she’d had for the last five days.
***
The X-rays had come back with stellar results and Avery was able to have the wires removed from her jaw the following day. The result was having the entire lower half of her face feel sore, almost like her jaw had been stretched into taffy. She was given a list of foods she could eat for the next two weeks (it wasn’t very long) and asked not to speak at great length unless it was absolutely necessary.
Due to this, the conversation she had with O’Malley that afternoon was fairly quick and to the point. When he came into the room, Rose was there, sitting in the visitor’s chair and scrolling through Facebook. Her friends were sending get well wishes to her mother, as well as letting her know how much of a bad-ass her mother was. News of what had happened was all over local news programs and Avery had become something of a hero.
When O’Malley entered, Rose waved a hello and got up from the chair. As she headed for the door to give them some privacy, Avery stopped her.
“No. Stay.”