I feel safe in his arms and doubt I would sleep as well without him next to me. But I also think this is as much for Zander as it is for me.
He has seen those awful videos, and I know it’s eating away at him. Therefore, holding me and having me in his arms reminds him that, by helping me that night, he saved me from that happening to me. And maybe feeling me against him all night gives him more strength to get back up and do it all again the next day.
Since I feel safe with Zander and staying in his apartment, my new concern becomes not about Brian finding me, but that this new routine that I like a lot is going to be ending soon.
What excuse will I have to stay over here when it’s safe for me to go home?
Sasha calls me every afternoon on Van’s phone and informs me on how grumpy all the boys are. Even though I don’t know her very well, she chats like we are old friends. There is never any uncomfortable silence between us. I suppose she was serious when she told me we were going to be friends.
Since Zander and the others are keeping mostly to themselves as they search over the videos for clues, I let go completely of the fear that Zander might be in danger. I forget to worry about Van, and that this is no situation a kid should be anywhere near.
We have evidence that will put a lot of bad people away. It feels like we have the upper hand. It seems certain that Brian, and whoever else can be identified, are going to jail no matter what happens now.
Zander mentioned just last night that they were close to finalizing the evidence and will soon be ready to do the handover to his cop friend. He also confided that he has a trusted contact in the DA office who is going to get a copy of everything, as well.
It is so close to being over, so instead of worrying about Zander and Van, I am stuck on thoughts about how this is going to change things for me.
Another new facet I have learned about myself from this situation is that I’m selfish.
Theoretically, I should have been safe with Zander and Van in their home. And I can’t even begin to imagine how on earth I could be discovered being here. But I soon realize my location is no longer hidden.
After giving the scenario far too much thought over the past few weeks, I figure, if I ever find myself close to Brian, some sort of gut feeling will sound off to give me some warning. Now that I know he is evil, I will be able to sense him, right? Or, at least sense the impending danger falling upon me?
I suppose those things only happen in movies, or wild retellings of stories that suddenly seem overdramatic. Or maybe it’s just me, and my body and brain can’t sense evil or danger for shit.
With the way my luck has been since I found out what Brian really is, I probably shouldn’t have been surprised that they chose a perfect time to attack.
Zander leaves early to go into the office, even though it is a Saturday. This is the last weekend he will be stuck there because, as of Monday, he is doing a handoff to his cop friend, and then the ball should start rolling fast on everything.
He mentioned they have identified many more perpetrators, and Declan and Joey have been finding more evidence against those people to make their cases ironclad. Now that they know who to look at, it is much easier to see where they are making mistakes and leaving clues incriminating themselves.
Everything is wrapping up now, and part of me is relieved.
Brian won’t be a problem soon. Or, at least he shouldn’t be.
“Ava, come play against me,” Van calls out, gaining my attention and making me realize I have been drying the same cup for five minutes.
He is already turning on the TV and setting up his console.
“I don’t know how to play that one,” I tell him, hoping my lack of skill will prove too off-putting for him.
“I’ll teach you,” he offers enthusiastically.
I wince, having no doubt my reluctance for the violent game won’t make me a good student. “Don’t you have a racing game or something not so violent?”
“They’re boring.” He rolls his eyes at me like I’m being silly.
“Is boring bad?” I ask stupidly. What twelve-year-old wants boring?
The buzzer goes off by the doorway, and I thank my lucky stars that this discussion can be shelved for now.
“I got it!” Van yells, rushing to where the buzzer is to press the button to speak.
“Who is it?” he barks into it, his tone sounding exactly like Zander’s. Sometimes, they are polar opposites, and sometimes, they are uncanny in their likeness.
“Got a delivery here for Mr. Jameson?” a gruff voice states in a bored tone.
Van looks at me, and I shrug back. Zander never mentioned anything about a delivery.
“I’m not supposed to buzz in strangers,” he explains to me.
A niggling feeling begins to tingle in my gut. Something feels off here. Am I just being paranoid?
“Hello? I just need someone to sign for it,” the voice sounds again.
“You can see the front door from the window over there,” Van mentions, and I quickly make my way over to it, bypassing the couch and leaning over the TV to get the best view.
The guy at the front is wearing jeans and a button-down shirt, not exactly any sort of typical delivery man outfit. Also, I can’t see any package with him.
I glance along the street and see a new man approaching from across the road.
This one I do recognize.
Brian.
“Oh, shit,” I gasp, stepping away from the window so fast I trip over the rug and fall over.
“You okay?” Van cries, rushing over to help me up, but I can’t stop shaking.
He’s here! He found me!
The buzzer at the door sounds again, the noise like a drill going off in my ear.
“Don’t open that door,” I tell Van before scrambling into the kitchen and grabbing Van’s cell phone off the counter. My fingers fumble as I bring Agnes up, a change from the Asshole name Zander was previously under.
“Hey—”
“Brian is here!” I screech out, my fear overwhelming me as I continue to shake.
“Shit, where is he?”
“He’s outside the apartment. There are two of them, and they’re trying to get in,” I hiss.
“I think someone let them in. They’re not there anymore,” Van calls out.
I’m fairly certain my stomach drops out of my body at that news.
“Fuck. You need to get out of there. If they know which apartment you’re in, then a locked door isn’t going to stop them. Get to the fire escape,” Zander barks, his fear coming through clearly, doing nothing to calm me down.
I sprint to the fire escape, but when I glance down, I see another man waiting below. I don’t recognize him, but he’s clearly waiting there for a reason.
“Someone else is there.”
“Shit. Listen, you can’t stay where you are. You need to get out before they get to you both. I’m coming to you. Just stay on the line and get—”
The line goes dead.
“Fuck!” I cry, forgetting and honestly not caring about my audience.
I try to get him back, but it goes straight to voicemail.
Of all the times for him to let his phone die. Unbelievable.
“What do we do?”
“We need to go.” I grab Van’s hand and, not taking anything with us except Van’s phone and the loose change on the table by the door, we sprint to the door.
I take a quick peek out to find the hallway empty before I run toward the elevators, which is already on its way up.
“Stairs!” I yell, dragging him with me to the stairwell.
We fly through the door, Van quickly overtaking me on our stumble downward. When I hear the door open well below us, I tap his shoulder, and then we enter through the third level. It could have been a resident on their way up, but I’m not willing to risk it.
Once we are in the third level hallway, I knock on every door until one opens. It takes eight doors, and by that point, I’m de
sperate and freaking the hell out.
We barge our way past the shocked man and slam the door shut behind us, ignoring the outraged call of the owner.
“I’m sorry, but we need to hide in here. Some men are after us. They want to hurt us,” I huff out at the older man who takes one look at us, then another, his face not softening in sympathy at all.
“I want no trouble.” He waves his hand in the air like a cutting motion. “I want you out. I don’t die for silly American kids. Get out,” he snaps at us, his English stilted.
“Ava, what did Zander say to do?” Van asks, pulling on my sleeve as his voice shakes.
I think for a moment, momentarily pulling up a blank. What the hell did he say?
Then, one part hits me, his voice repeating in my mind, which I repeat out loud for Van.
“We needed to get out of your apartment.”
“Will they check every apartment for us? Won’t they find us here eventually?” Van squeals, his own panic and fear forcing me to calm down.
“Zander said he’s on his way. He will get here before they make it to our floor.” I try to sound confident, but I think I fail, given Van doesn’t look any less stressed.
“What if he doesn’t get here in time?” he cries, gripping my arm painfully.
Shit. What if he doesn’t make it here? And how will he even know to look for us here? Even if Brian gives up, he will still have someone watching the building to see if we show up. We will be sitting ducks, and this old man definitely isn’t happy about us crashing into his apartment. We will be lucky if he doesn’t call the police on us, and won’t that be a beacon for them.
I glance around the room to find we are facing a different side of the building.
I rush over to his fire escape and look down, not seeing anyone waiting at the bottom. They won’t be expecting us to come down this side.
“Come on; we’ll go out this way.”
I slip the phone into my back pocket then slide the window open as far as it will go. From there, it is a quick trip downward, all while hearing the man shout at us in a different language. I hope he doesn’t draw attention.
Once we hit the ground, I don’t wait to catch my breath. I grab Van’s hand and we sprint around the corner and don’t stop. I have no idea if we are being chased or were seen by anyone, but I’m not going to turn back to find out.
Van is in shape from running up the stairs all the time, so he has no problem keeping up, and then he has no problem being the one to drag me along.
We run in the direction of Zander’s offices, risking a bus to move us along quicker. As we grow closer, though, I get another bad feeling growing inside me.
People on the street are looking alarmed, shocked, scared, and many are running just like we were once we get off on a stop on the same street as Zander’s offices. Some are running toward us, some are running in the same direction as us. There is chaos everywhere, and the nearer we get to Zander’s office, the more the chaos grows tenfold.
I can’t see what has happened, but there is smoke and debris everywhere, and police and fire crews have already arrived.
After taking a few more steps in, I realize that they are all in front of Zander’s building.
Or, what’s left of it.
“Was …? Was Zander in there?” Van whispers.
Amid the screams and sirens, I shouldn’t have even heard him, but I did, each word like a tug on my heart.
Tears are already falling down his face, and the color in his cheeks from all the running bleeds away until he is so pale that he looks faint.
“I … I don’t know. We can’t stay here.” Emotions slam into my body and strangle me.
What have I done? Is Zander dead? Is he badly injured?
“I can’t … I don’t want … What if he’s …?” Van trails off.
I know I’m losing him. He’s going into shock, and I’m not sure I’m not going there right along with him.
What was I thinking giving this case to Zander? He has Van to look out for, and I might have just cost him his life. I should have just let Brian have me and been done with it.
I fumble with Van’s cell phone as I keep a tight grip of his hand, dragging him back the way we came. Van staring at the rubble isn’t going to help him, and being near the cops certainly won’t help me.
I dial Sasha’s number, and she picks up after four, painfully long rings.
“Van?” She sounds surprised.
“It’s me. Have you heard from any of the guys?” I yell into the phone as the noise around me continues to increase.
“No, it’s Saturday. Why would I?” Sasha sounds a little bored. “Where are you? Why is it so noisy?”
“Because my ex found me at Zander’s. Van and I got away, but when we went to the office, it was to find it’s no longer there. It looks like a bulldozer has just plowed through it,” I say, turning away from Van slightly to deliver that last part, not that he looks to be listening.
“What!” Sasha screeches.
“I was talking to Zander earlier, but our call cut out. I thought maybe his phone battery died, but what if …? Sasha, he told us he was working in the office today.”
“Shit, no fucking way. Have you spoken to any of the other guys?” she demands as I hear rustling on her end.
“No, I just called you.”
“Where are you?”
“We’re close to the office, heading west—”
“There’s a church farther down. Hide in there. I’ll call you back in five minutes with an update.”
“Got it,” I tell the dial tone. She already hung up.
Having a destination and a doable mission helps me feel better. The absolute devastation on Van’s face does the opposite. At least with the panic and fear running rampant around us, no one is looking twice at Van.
It takes us ten minutes to make our way to the church, dodging everyone as we go. We don’t receive any phone calls during that time.
Inside the church, there are several people, most of them seeming to be searching for sanctuary from the chaos outside. I don’t like how many people are here, but down a hallway, I notice a public bathroom.
I first check inside to find no one is in here, then drag Van in and lock the door behind us.
I pace the small, confined space, while Van hugs his legs on the floor. It’s cold, and my feet echo on the ground, but I feel numb.
Van’s phone ringing makes me jump, and even Van cries out in fear before realizing what it is. Then we both hold our breaths as I answer. Unfortunately, Sasha doesn’t have the news we want.
She hasn’t heard from Zander and wasn’t able to get Joey on the phone, but she did manage to contact Declan, who is on his way to us.
Once I told her we were hidden in the bathroom, she made me promise not to move. She is adamant about this, though I don’t understand why, until it clicks after we hang up.
She’s worried I’m going to bail. And part of me wants to. I’m the reason for this.
I have no idea how Brian found me, but the fact is, he is looking for me. Because of where I am and who I am with, they became targets.
Zander’s office, destroyed. Possibly his apartment, too.
And what about Zander? What about anyone else who was in that building? Or in a building nearby? How many more lives has Brian destroyed today? And how much blame do I deserve to shoulder for it?
Van sniffles from the corner he’s plopped himself down in, and I crouch down next to him, swinging my arm around his shoulders, which just makes him cry harder.
I might be the blame for some of this, but I can’t abandon Van here.
What if Brian is the one who finds him? What if I leave him and no one comes? I can’t do that. Zander trusted me to look after Van, so that is what I must do. Once Van is somewhere safe, then I should leave.
It feels like hours pass as every anxious second drives me closer to insanity.
Van doesn’t utter a word, and I find I’m too choked up t
o give him any false hope.
Just when I’m about ready to jump out of my skin, we hear a knock at the door.
I look down at Van, and he looks up at me, terror written on his face.
“Busy,” I call out, wondering if it could be Declan.
“Ava, it’s me,” a muffled voice sounds, but I can’t tell who it is. It could be Zander, but it could also be Declan. In fact, as I quickly rush to unlock the door, I realize it could also be Brian.
“Prove it,” I demand, not sure what proof Declan could offer me if it’s him.
It’s silent for a moment, and my fear begins to peak, but then I hear one word that makes my knees weak.
“Agnes.”
“Thank fuck!” I gasp, quickly unlocking the door and opening it to reveal Zander, who is bruised and bloodied, but most definitely alive.
“You’re okay!” I huff, feeling light-headed with relief.
I quickly step aside as Van leaps to his feet and sprints toward Zander, not stopping until he’s charged into him and nearly knocking him over, his arms wrapped so tightly around Zander that I don’t think even I would be strong enough to loosen his grip. He doesn’t say a word, his small body shaking as he sobs.
“It’s okay, buddy. I’m okay,” Zander tries to soothe him, stroking his head and gripping his shoulders to calm him.
“We saw what was left of the office,” I explain with a shaky voice.
“I’m fine, I promise. I wasn’t in there when the bomb went off.”
“Bomb?” I gasp, feeling faint again.
“That’s what they think happened. I was already outside, running to my car, when it happened. Your phone call saved my life,” he tells me.
I’m glad he’s okay, yet knowing how close to death he was does not make me feel better.
“I can’t believe they bombed your office.” My voice trembles from the lengths that Brian is willing to go. “How did they know about you? How did they find me?” I haven’t left his apartment since my one trip to his office. I have made zero contact with the outside world. There is no way I could have been traced there.
“I don’t know, but I think their intention was to get access to my office and hopefully the USB.”
I Stole His Car (Love at First Crime Book 1) Page 14