by Shel Stone
The gun shook and there was every possibility this kid would fire accidentally.
“There’s coke over there,” he said, indicating to a glass table where a slate plate had a free-for-all pile. “There’s pills too.”
“I don’t want fucking pills. I want a block.”
“I don’t have coke sitting around my apartment.” That was normally the case, but he actually had a couple of kilos in his safe. It had just happened that they had been returned from a dealer whose network had been poached. There was a vague rumor indicating someone in his team was being disloyal. The poaching was a problem, and whatever was behind it, he was going to deal with tomorrow, but as a result, he, for once, had coke on the premises. That was something he was going to sort tomorrow too. It wasn’t standard operating procedure as a raid could happen.
Had these two bitches known about it? It was too coincidental that they turned up on the one day he actually had product on him. Someone, somewhere had fucked up and there would be hell to pay, and that was after he dealt to these fucks.
“Open the safe,” Samie said.
“Samie, no, don’t be stupid,” the girl implored. Either she wasn’t part of this, or she had lost her nerve. When had that happened, when she’d spoken to him, or was that because he’d asked her to stay? Had she seen a bigger opportunity? If so, she played a longer game than these two dead boys. “Samie, Samie, let’s just go, okay. This is bullshit.”
“Shut up!” Samie yelled at her. “Open the safe.”
Palmer literally had nothing within reach to kill these interlopers. There were guns hidden in strategic places, but he wasn’t within reach. He would be in the study, though.
Carefully, he took a step that way, and Samie’s gun followed him as he walked across the room.
“Straight to the fucking safe,” Samie said, not allowing him to get to the desk. “Put in the fucking combination or I’ll shoot you.”
“No, stop,” the girl said.
“Shut the fuck up, Nook!” he yelled harshly.
The quiet one walked with him, but stayed out of reach. Palmer already knew that Samie would sacrifice either of his companions if he had to, so taking one of them hostage would achieve little, other than as a shield. It was an option. There was also a gun in the safe.
“Put in the combination.”
“Listen to your girlfriend, Samie. She’s the one with brains here.”
“Brains?” Samie said dismissively. “She’s just a dumb cunt.”
The girl stayed quiet. Like he’d said, she was the one with the brains, but she didn’t run this operation.
“Put in the fucking code,” Samie said, accenting each word with the gun.
Gritting his teeth, Palmer calmly considered his options. No, it was best to open the safe. Even if they got out of this apartment, they wouldn’t get far. Carlos would be on their asses before they left the building. But he could also tell that Samie was boiling over with his nerves. “Alright fine, let’s everyone remain calm,” he said.
Not liking it, he had to turn his back to them. He slowly entered the code and the door clicked open.
“Move away,” the other guy said. It was the first time he’d heard the guy’s voice. Not entirely dumb as he suspected there would be a weapon. The dark one stepped closer and opened the door. Yeah, there was the two kilos of coke, and Samie laughed with delight.
“See, I told you.”
“Don’t do this, Samie. You can’t just think you can take this and sell it and he wouldn’t mind.”
The voice of reason in this comedy act.
“Nook, with this, we can go anywhere.”
“There’s gold too,” the dark one said, carrying the coke and the small gold bars over to Samie, who proceeded to place them in Nooks bag. He’d taken the gun in the safe too, so now two of them were armed. Palmer only kept enough gold in his safe that he was happy to lose if the authorities came to search his apartment. It wasn’t illegal to have, but they would take it all the same. Now it was just a bonus for some dumbass kids.
“There’s nowhere I can’t find you,” Palmer said coldly. And that was true. There was nowhere these kids could run. It wasn’t impossible to put word out about wanting to know if a few kids turned up with two kilos to sell. Others in his position wouldn’t tolerate hijackers either, so they would cooperate in finding them. Their punishment would be all his.
“See now, that’s a problem,” the kid said, adrenalin making his movements jerky. Palmer could smell it in the air. “Can’t have that, can we?”
The noise hit him before the impact, and before he knew what had happened. The fucking kid had shot him. There was smoke and he fell, hitting his head on something. Pain seared through his chest. Bold and brutal.
“Oh my god!” the girl screamed. “What the fuck, Samie!?” She rushed to him, pressing her hands to where blood was welling. “You fucking shot him.”
“I had to,” Samie said, waving the gun around. “You heard him, he wasn’t going to stop looking. Well, he isn’t going to look now, is he?”
“We need to call an ambulance,” the girl screamed, looking back at her accomplices.
Pain bit into every part of him. It hurt like a mother fucker and his breathing was shallow. They’d got his lung, and he could taste blood in his mouth. This was bad. His consciousness was going to go, and this kid would shoot him in the head if that happened.
The dark one came over and wrapped an arm around the girl’s waist, carrying her way. “Come on,” he said. The girl was too shocked to do anything, but he was now weighted down carrying the girl, and the other one was off in the clouds with his victory, so didn’t react fast enough when Palmer reached for the gun holstered under his desk chair and swung it straight toward Samie, firing right at his forehead. At this close range it was hard to miss. The guy dropped.
It was, however, enough time for the dark one to swing back, firing at the same time. Another slug pierced through his chest. He heard them drop, or one of them drop. Still holding the gun, he waited for the dark one to come back into sight, but he didn’t. He felt his arm grow weak, felt his lungs starting to get tight. He was bleeding, but they hadn’t gotten his heart. It still didn’t mean he was going to make it. It was getting so tough to breathe he feared both of his lungs were down.
Crawling was agony, but he had to reach the panic button at the bottom of his desk. Likely someone had heard the shots fired, but you could never depend on people reporting gunfire, even in a building like this.
With shaking fingers, he reached it. It hurt like hell to stretch, but he had to if he was to have any chance of surviving.
Task achieved, his body dropped down. He could feel his shirt wetting with blood, a sticky, damp feeling. This might be his last moments. It might be game over for him. He could feel the darkness encroaching. Were there things he regretted? Certainly not killing that punk bitch that had just shot him.
Through the legs of the desk, he could see the kid lying flat on his back, dead and cooling. He hoped he got the other one, and the girl. Was it too much to hope for that one bullet had gone through both of them? Probably, but he could hope. They both deserved to die. They both would. Live or die, Carlos would hunt them down and end their miserable fucking lives.
Darkness took him. It was just like slipping into sleep—just a hell of a lot more painful.
Chapter 6
NOOK CRAWLED OUT FROM under Jaz. His glossy eyes were looking past her and she knew he was dead. He’d been struck in the side of his chest and he’d fallen on top of her. In utter panic, she pulled herself free.
In the distance, she could hear people running. Someone was coming. Cops maybe. They’d put her in fucking prison for the rest of her life. Not that it would be long, because she’d be killed for this, for sure. You didn’t rob someone like Palmer Dorian and get away with it. What the fuck had Samie been thinking? “We can go anywhere we want with this,” he’d said, but Palmer had been right that there was nowhere
he couldn’t find them. It had been Samie’s plan to kill him all along. Why the fuck had they decided to take her along for this fucked up ride?
Now they were dead, both of them. It was fucking bound to happen, wasn’t it?
Flying to the elevator, she pressed the button about a hundred times, leaving bloody smears, but she heard footsteps. No, this was too fast for police. Someone like Palmer had fucking henchmen, didn’t he? And they would just shoot her on sight.
Unable to think what else to do, she hid behind a fire hydrant and by some stroke of luck, they didn’t see her in their rush to get to their boss. Darting across the room, she ducked into the closing door of the stairway and ran down taking three steps at a time. There was no time to stop and think; she just needed to get away.
Her heart beat painfully in her chest, her lungs needing more oxygen than she could take. Those assholes probably already knew she was trying to get away. Just as she thought it, she heard the door slam open up the stairwell somewhere. They were coming.
Renewed panic hit her. They were going to kill her. They would just shoot her on the spot. She didn’t want to die. She didn’t deserve to die. None of this was her fault. They wouldn’t see it that way, though, and they certainly weren’t going to give her a chance to explain. Palmer might understand, but he was probably dead. That chest wound had looked bad and Jaz had shot him again.
Jaz was fucking dead. Samie was dead. Every level of fucked up.
Slamming the staircase door open, she ran for the door, too fast for the guard to react, who tried to intercept her. She should have taken Jaz’s gun, but it hadn’t occurred to her.
Flying outside, she turned quickly. Those goons would be on her tail soon, and she didn’t have the car keys. There was nothing for it but to run and she did, turning the corner at the end of the block.
This was pointless. They would catch her in a heartbeat. Probably chasing her both on foot and in cars. It was only a matter of time before they saw the only girl running down these streets. She didn’t have the nerve to slow down and walk, but she could hide, which she did, in a landscape feature where she could literally crawl into a bush and hide. Being smallish, she could curl up into a little ball and no one would assume she was hiding in that bush.
Her ragged breath sounded like a herd of elephants marching through. She needed to calm down. For a while, she tried breathing through her nose, but she couldn’t.
A man was walking down the street, talking on his phone. He was looking for her and Nook held her breath as he walked past.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, she repeated inside her head. They were seriously going to kill her if they found her.
The man walked past again and there was also a car cruising past. There might be people on every street looking for her. The sound of sirens echoed off the buildings. Ambulance and police coming to a crime scene. She had been a part of a crime. What the hell had Samie been thinking? And now he was dead for it.
Putting her hand over her mouth, she cried. How could he have done this? She’d never be a part of it. Why had he pulled her in with him in this? Her life was fucking over.
It was now quiet along the street, just random cars driving past, but she didn’t dare move. Those dudes were still looking for her, and they wouldn’t stop. What they knew about her, she had no idea. They didn’t even know her name as far as she knew. Right now, she just needed to get out of there without being seen, and she had no way of doing it.
There was practically no one walking down the pavements, so she’d be noticed in a heartbeat, even if she just stepped out there to hail a cab. For a moment, she considered calling for one, but she didn’t dare. Didn’t dare move from her hiding place. It was the only place she was safe right now. Did the person who planted it every expect it would become a total lifesaver to someone one day—to her.
Again, she cried as the memories of the scene played out in her head. Palmer getting shot. Samie getting shot. Jaz. All dead, and for what? Samie and Jaz were dead, Palmer she wasn’t so sure about, but there would be CCTV and she would be seen by whoever was looking. Palmer’s men or the police. None of this was her fault, but they were never going to see that.
Exhaling, she put her head to a branch. Her breath had calmed, but the adrenalin hadn’t. It felt like fire in her veins, but she didn’t dare move. The bush might move and draw attention to her. Cramps were starting in her calves, and she tried to ease her position into a more comfortable one.
The bag with the coke was still at her side. She didn’t want it, any of it. The gold she could certainly use, but she didn’t want to touch it. Blood money if she’d ever known it. Someone had died to steal it, and she wanted nothing to do with it—or any of this.
For a moment, she wondered if she should just leave it there and walk away, but she knew people would be coming for her, and it was the only bargaining chip she had. More likely it was the drug goons that would find her, over the police. In death, Palmer might be swept under the carpet like a dirty little secret, because a guy like that couldn’t operate if he wasn’t in with the people who ran this town.
Sitting with her head down, not daring to move or even look out at the street, she waited until dawn came, and the rush hour when office workers were walking down the pavement in their suits. A street cleaning machine went by and after, Nook emerged from her hiding place.
She expected someone to jump on her, but except for the traffic, it was quiet. Birds chirped and the sun was starting to heat up. Eventually, she reached a bus stop and sat with an elderly lady and waited for the next bus—taking it, wherever it was going. Obviously, she looked like she was dressed from the night before and she wrapped her arms as tightly around herself as she could.
Once on the bus, she felt some semblance of relief, but it was only temporary. Going back to her place was a gamble, but she needed some stuff before she skipped town. She was betting on that they hadn’t identified her yet. It wouldn’t take them long to track her if they asked around, but hopefully she’d be long gone by then.
A few different buses and she was back in her neighborhood, watching every car that passed by. No one seemed to be cruising for a victim this early in the morning. The reputable folk in the neighborhood were out, doing their business in the hours of safety.
Across the street from her apartment building, she retreated down the side of one of the buildings so she could watch. Nothing appeared to be out of place. Goons weren’t walking around searching for her, and she saw no people sitting around in cars. All the same, she was going in the back route.
Dashing across the road, she walked along the lawn of the neighboring building until she got to the back and then jumped the fence. Her bag weighed a fucking ton, but she couldn’t decide what to do with it.
As quietly as she could, she snuck up the stairs and made her way inside. Nothing was out of place. It was messy, but it was her messiness.
Grabbing the duffle bag in the closet, she frantically shoved clothes and shoes in. Her jewelry, toothbrush and deodorant. Her heart was racing and her hands were shaking. Every minute she stayed felt more and more dangerous. She had to get out of there. It was a race between her and the people coming.
She had no delusions about them going to bed for the night. They were looking for her right now, probably asking anyone who knew Samie what girls he hung with. God, she hoped no one got hurt.
Tears threatened her again, but she angrily wiped them away. Thank fuck she didn’t end up getting that cat she’d thought about getting, because pets really didn’t do well on the run.
A sinking feeling went through her. She was on the run. Had prided herself on how she had her life together, even with the partying. It had all been on her terms, and now she had no terms. She was running for her life with her worldly goods in a duffle bag.
Unable to stay any longer, she made her way out, trying to look normal as she walked down the stairs and into the parking lot where her shitty old Honda was. It didn’t always start, and it w
as literally full of stuff. Repeatedly, she’d told herself she’d clean it, but never got around to it. It was pretty much useless and would overheat before long. It certainly wasn’t going to take her out of state, but it might just take her to the bus station.
Her heart in her throat, she looked around for any suspicious cars before pulling out and driving down the road. No one appeared in her rearview and she slowly released the breath she’d been holding. The gamble had paid off. No one had come crashing in, shooting her on the spot. She had her stuff, and she was off.
Actually, they might be looking for her at the Miami bus stop. That’s one of the spots she’d look if she were hunting someone, so she drove to the Orlando one, praying her car would make it all the way there.
The god of shitty cars was merciful and it made it. Parking a couple of blocks down, she left her car. She’d never see it again. Actually, she might as well leave the keys in it. Whoever was looking to steal that car had to be desperate, so it was their lucky day.
Approaching the bus stop was another gamble and her eyes darted everywhere, looking for danger. Freedom was close; she could taste it. Just had to buy a ticket and get on a bus.
The departure board said there was a bus heading to New Orleans in twenty minutes. That was the one she was taking, so she bought a ticket with cash from the ticket counter. Aware there was a camera recording her. It couldn’t be helped. The cops would stop caring once she headed across state lines, but the goons probably wouldn’t. It meant she couldn’t stay in New Orleans. From there, she had to cover her tracks better.
Squeezing herself into a corner, she tried to hide as she waited, her eyes still searching for danger. Every face represented a potential threat and she tried to see any signs of interest or malice, which was hard, because dudes had a tendency to check her out.
Across the hall was a sign for long-term storage and Nook blinked. Anytime she fell asleep there was a threat of someone going through her bag, who would then find both gold and cocaine. Her collateral would be gone.