by Wendy Byrne
“Prostitution?” The word rolled off my tongue like a curse. Bile hung at the bottom of my throat as nausea threatened. Immediately, I remembered the note and the spot of blood. Women had been kept there, in my dressing room, at least for a period of time before being sold off to the highest bidder. My stomach roiled in protest.
“Of course. The best kind. Where you don’t even have to give the women a cut of any kind.”
“You’re sick.”
“And rich.”
Everything about what he said sickened me. Thinking it was drugs or corruption was repulsive enough, but this reached a new low.
“Tony and Annie knew each other?”
“They were childhood friends. When she told him what was going down, he told her to get evidence so he could cash in himself.”
“Oh my God.”
“Marcos used her, then threatened to go to IA if we didn’t give him a cut. Except she’d never given him the video so it was pure bluff.”
“You called his bluff and then framed him for murder. Then you had him attacked in prison?” Everything had been interconnected.
“The boy had to learn a lesson. Besides, he was supposed to die. I swear, the stupid kid has nine lives. We bought some time by making him think the state’s attorney was in on the deal and by threatening his family. He has nowhere to go with what he has if we destroy the evidence. Nobody’s going to believe a loser like him.” Stu shrugged.
“But Vince believed him.”
“Vince believed Annie. When Tony got arrested, I guess she got scared and went to Vince for advice and somehow gave him the information about where she stashed the video.” Stu emitted a chuckle. “Getting rid of a junkie and a prisoner is easy. Take down a goody-two-shoes lawyer like Vince Perry, you’ve got to make it look like an accident. It was much easier to discredit Shane. Most guys in the department think he’s an asshole anyway.”
“You have to know you’re going to get caught. Internal Affairs is already suspicious.”
Stu nodded. “Bullshit. That’s a rumor I started myself. Even if it were true, those investigations take a long time, especially with no evidence to fuel the fire.”
“Getting rid of Shane and me is never going to solve your problem. It didn’t work with Annie. It won’t work with us either. It’s like trying to plug the proverbial leak in the damn. Another hole springs up when you get one plugged.”
“You let me worry about that. Besides, we’re only doing this for another two years. By then, we’ll have accumulated enough to retire in style.”
While his logic remained faulty, I’d never be able to convince him of that. He seemed hell-bent on seeing this whole thing through.
“How could you?”
“It’s called making more in a year than I could in a lifetime. The risk is negligible. At least it was until you two started sniffing around.”
For some strange reason, I didn’t want to think about, like maybe I’d gone
completely loco. I started to laugh. “But that’s the thing. Neither one of us had a clue as to what you were doing. We didn’t even know about the video. You could have gotten away with it.” Saying that out loud brought me back into focus.
“Walt had a good deal going with us.” Stu shook his head. “Walt owed big money to some people you don’t want to owe money to. We helped him out with that, but then he went and got stupid. If you want to blame anybody, blame him.”
Talk about shifting the blame. This guy played a part in bringing young women to this country on empty promises and then capitalizing on their vulnerability.
“What about Mack? How did he play into this? You two seemed pretty chummy. Why’d you kill him?” As long as he was talking, I figured I might as well hear everything.
“Mack. The stupid bastard, told us Annie gave the video to Shane which put him in our crosshairs. But it turns out the idiot lied to us.” He switched lanes in the bumper-to-bumper traffic.
“So you killed him?” Life was an expendable commodity in Stu’s world.
“Had no choice. He was a worthless piece of crap.”
“Did you know he unlocked the door so Shane could get out?” It was the only thing that made any sense. Besides, I knew telling him that would irritate the hell out of him. Irritated people made mistakes.
His jaw clenched as he said, “I thought it was you.”
“Nope. I guess that means even Mack was smarter than you.”
“Awful big talk for somebody who’s not going to live too long.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that.” I channeled my inner Shane. After all our quality time together, I should be able to manage that. WWSD. What would Shane do?
Talk trash and then attack.
The cab up ahead cut in front of Stu, and he swerved into the right-hand lane. Opportunity came just that quickly. I pushed on the handle and flew out the door.
I sprinted down the sidewalk, my heart racing, my legs pumping. Stu was right behind me, his angry shouts getting closer by the second. I spared a quick look behind and switched into high gear.
Bumping and running against the swarm of people going in the opposite direction, I weaved through the crowd. While I didn’t know where I was going, I knew if I got back into that car, I’d be dead.
The sound of pounding footsteps behind spurred me on. My legs pumped twice as hard, twice as fast. My thighs strained with exertion while I sucked in oxygen.
“Chicago Police. Stop,” he screamed from behind.
I ignored him and turned right at the next corner, hoping to find something, anything that resembled protection, or someplace to hide. Instead, I stumbled into a park, a vast open area with few people. But I couldn’t retreat and find a better way without running smack-dab into him.
Sprinting hard, I flew past a grassy area punctuated with a fountain and a band shell, the infamous Bean sculpture along with a large grouping of trees. I could see Lake Michigan in the distance, along with a four-lane road that separated the park from the lake. If I could somehow make it to the road, I might be able to get lost in traffic or get onto one of the many buses lining the road.
But before I could think about other possibilities, I was tackled from behind and slammed to the grass. My legs and arms got jumbled up beneath me with my right ankle catching the majority of the impact.
“You...bitch...” he panted, his sour breath assaulting my nostrils.
He hauled me up by the arms, nearly dislocating my shoulders in the process, and forced me forward. When my weight came down on my right foot, I buckled. Searing pain shot up my leg, bringing tears to my eyes.
“Problem?” He gave an evil laugh and again forced me forward.
“Let me go.” I hobbled along, trying to focus through the pain.
He simply pulled harder on my arms and held out his badge to anyone who looked at us strangely. “Chicago Police, clear the way. I have a suspect in custody.”
I tried to twist away. “He’s lying...I’m not...a...suspect. He’s...my...abusive husband. He’s going...to kill me.” The words came out in painful grunts. I needed to make people believe my story instead of his.
What I said got people’s attention. He didn’t look like a police officer, and people began to give us both a second look, trying to weigh in as to who told the truth.
One large muscle-bound man moved in close, standing in our path. “Let me see that badge.”
The vein in Stu’s neck pulsed as he shoved it at the man. “She’s under arrest. Get out of my way.”
“He’s going to kill me.” My voice sounded weak as pain threatened to overcome me.
“She’s a pathological liar.” Stu cleared his throat as he tried to regain his composure. “I realize how this looks, but we’ve been tracking her for weeks.”
“Please...I swear...he’s my abusive husband and a dirty cop. If you let him take me...” I drew in a deep breath and tried to focus on getting out of this alive. “I’ll be dead by morning.”
“Look at
my finger. I have no Goddamn wedding band.” No doubt fed up with my antics, as well as the fact I slowed him down, Stu picked me up and threw me over his shoulder.
“Let me go,” I moaned, hurting so bad I could hardly think.
“And why would I do that.” The quiet menace in his voice terrified me.
“Because there are cameras everywhere, plus somebody on this street is going to remember this. You’ll be held accountable for whatever you do to me.”
“You forget I have connections. Don’t count on it. Those camera feeds will be erased before anybody even looks through them.”
After handcuffing my hands behind my back, he shoved me inside the back seat of his car and engaged the childproof locks. My foot, already twice its normal size, throbbed. I fought to stay conscious.
Stu got into the driver’s seat and slammed the door. Glancing out the window, I spotted the muscle-bound man eyeing me once again. I mouthed ‘help me’ to him as Stu pulled the car into traffic.
Stu punched in numbers on his phone but seconds later threw it down. Tires squealing, he turned the next corner and moved onto a long stretch of road that followed Lake Michigan.
“You don’t have Shane, do you?” He had the upper hand right now, so nothing else could explain this level of irritation.
“Shut up.”
“It’s all coming apart, isn’t it, Stu? You don’t have Shane. That’s why they’re not answering. They haven’t caught him, and they won’t. For all you know, they might be under arrest.”
He hit the brakes, catching me off guard. My head bounced off the doorframe, splitting my lip. “I said shut up.”
Sweat beaded along the side of his face, nervousness evidenced in the twitch of his fingers on the steering wheel combined with the way he kept glancing at his phone on the seat, as if willing it to ring.
But it didn’t. And it wouldn’t. Because somehow Shane had escaped. Maybe Patrick had helped him out. That thought cheered me.
Stu soon pulled into an underground garage. After parking in a spot near the elevator, he shut off the car.
He hauled me from the back seat and removed the handcuffs. Then he pulled the gun from his pocket and shoved it into my side. My whole leg throbbed until I thought I’d go mad from the pain as he forced me to hobble along on my own, although that was still preferable to his assistance. I glanced around the parking garage, hoping to spot somebody, but the place was deserted.
“Don’t try any of that crap you did downtown.” He punctuated the remark by jabbing the gun into my ribs. I had no doubt he’d pull the trigger. The wild look in his eye convinced me I didn’t have a choice in the matter.
We didn’t see anyone on our way into the building or on the elevator. He opened the door to his apartment and shoved me inside.
When I stumbled, excruciating pain shot from my foot up the length of my leg. I bit back the scream, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d hurt me.
“Don’t even try to cry for help. This building has seventeen-inch concrete walls. Nothing gets through.”
“Nice to know your money was well spent.”
He glared and cocked his fist. Before he could hit me, his phone rang.
I held my breath. My heart baboomed inside my chest as I tried to calculate how much time had elapsed since Stu had grabbed me off the street. Maybe a half hour. Maybe longer. A lot can happen in that stretch of time.
He listened but didn’t say much besides grunting and swearing. When he hung up, he seemed even more agitated, which I took as a good sign. Without warning, he picked up a glass vase and threw it in the general direction of my head. I ducked and fell back into the couch. The glass shattered against the wall, spraying me with fragments.
A large chunk landed on the armrest near me, and I palmed it to use as a weapon. Not the best, but it might buy me some time.
“Shane’s not going to be a threat once he knows I have you.”
“Don’t be too sure about that. He doesn’t like me very much.”
“Stop the bull. What’s his number?” He waved a gun in my face, shouting one obscenity after another. But I refused to be intimidated. Cold resolve strengthened my spine.
I am a strong, intelligent woman, and I can do this. The mantra swept through my brain until it settled into reality.
I only needed to buy some time. Sooner or later, Shane would find me.
Frustrated by my lack of response, Stu’s anger escalated another notch. Yanking me up, he threw me across the room. I bounced off the wall, then slid to the floor. Pain radiated through every inch of my body.
Stu bent over, grabbed my neck, and squeezed. My throat constricted as I fought against the pressure. I struggled to wiggle free from his grasp and scream. But nothing worked. I felt powerless.
I. Needed. Air.
Somebody pounded on the door…or maybe I was hallucinating. I had to be because...it sounded like Shane. Tears swam before my eyes as I closed them, waiting for the inevitable.
Too late. The thought tumbled through my mind.
Blood seeped through my fingers as my grip tightened on the jagged edge of glass. Now or never. I struck wildly, hoping to hit the mark.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Stu howled and staggered back as the door burst open, sending shards of wood sailing into the room, and the sound of a gunshot rattled in the air. My brain remained unfocused as I fought through the idea of whether or not I was dreaming or dead.
I gulped in air, then started to cough as I clutched my throat, still feeling Stan’s hands around me.
“Gabriella. Are you all right?” Was that Shane’s voice? Did he have his arms around me? But I fought against the idea. I couldn’t let my guard down. Delirium had clearly set in.
I willed my eyes open, ready to strike, but my fingers were empty. My glass weapon wasn’t there any longer. I raised my arm to attack in any way I could, but he grabbed it and whispered in my ear. “It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you.” That voice. That touch. Could it be real?
My eyes finally managed to focus. “Shane?” I blinked back unbelieving tears, opened my eyes, and smiled as relief inched through me.
“Live and in the flesh.” He placed a chaste kiss on my lips. “You’re going to be alright.”
“I stabbed Stu…with a piece of glass...” I dragged in a breath. “I ...think...he...might have cut me too.” I rasped, unable to control my trembling body. My side hurt, my throat felt like I’d swallowed fire, and blood seemed to be spattered everywhere. “But…you…shot… him?” I couldn’t seem to be sure about anything right now. Was it really Shane?
“You don’t have to worry about him anymore.” Shane lifted my shirt. “Garrett, Patrick, somebody get me a towel.” Whatever he saw made his jaw lock tight and his gaze narrow. He grabbed the towel from Patrick and pressed it against my side.
Donna? Surely this was a dream. How did she get here? “Hey, girlfriend. How ya doing?” Despite her words, she looked shaken and pale.
“Hurts.” Pain shot through so many places on my body that I didn’t know where it started and ended. “I’m such a wuss.”
Shane brushed the hair back from my face. “No.”
The rigid lines on his face frightened me. “Am I dying?”
“You’re fine.” His breath hitched. “We need to get you to a hospital. I’ve slowed down the bleeding, but I’m afraid you’re going into shock.” While he smoothed the hair on my head and covered me with his jacket, he barked orders. “Grab a blanket.”
“See, I was right.” My teeth chattered uncontrollably, and my throat ached so bad it was hard to draw in a breath. I could still feel Stu’s hands wrapped tight around my throat and found it difficult to swallow.
Shane’s smile seemed forced which confused me. “You’re not dying. I won’t allow it.”
The pain kept coming in waves from every direction on my body. “It hurts bad.” I moaned.
“I think your ankle is broken, and you’re bleeding from a wo
und in your side, but you’ll be okay.” A hint of a tear gathered at the corner of his eye before he scooped me into his arms and made his way out the door and onto the elevator. “No time to wait for an ambulance. Patrick will drive us to the hospital.”
“Scared.” I wasn’t all that sure the word came out, but when he nodded, I figured it must have. “I need…to…sing.” But I couldn’t.
He maneuvered inside the car, settling me onto his lap. I rested my head against his shoulder as he began to sing. ‘Brown Eyed Girl’ was barely recognizable because he couldn’t sing worth crap, but the words were ones I knew very well.
The ride felt like it took an hour and a minute simultaneously. I couldn’t be sure of anything. Patrick drove, and there was another man next to him in the front seat. Donna didn’t speak, but I could sense her nervousness. Shane kept whispering the words to ‘Brown Eyed Girl’ over and over until we reached the hospital.
When he carried me inside, I could sense more than see the others trailing behind.
“We need a doctor.” Shane pushed past the woman behind the desk and took me into the back, settling me on a bed. Seconds later, several people crowded around me, poking and prodding.
“Shane, I love you,” I whispered right before the doctors forced him to leave.
***
I drifted into a deep sleep sometime between my side getting stitched and them doing the temporary blow-up thing on my foot. I remembered asking for Shane about a million and a half times, which was probably why they gave me something to knock me out. They kept telling me he was at police headquarters giving a statement, but for some reason I didn’t believe them. I opened my eyes reluctantly and noted my larger than life foot propped in the air surrounded by a kind of plastic bubble and supported by a boatload of pillows.
Shane needed me. I needed him. Somehow over the course of the last month, our lives had become inextricably entwined. Without warning, I sensed his nearness and turned. Standing in the hospital room doorway, he held a bouquet of flowers and stared as if afraid to come inside. But slowly he made his way toward the bed and bent down to kiss my cheek.