Chapter Eleven
Despite the precariousness of their current situation, Kenzie felt refreshed and ready to tackle anything thrown in her path. She’d woken up in the morning—or afternoon—when Declan rose to shower. She was stiff from sleeping on the floor and sore in places that hadn’t been sore in way too long, but she still felt optimistic. Jamal had been asleep, so she carefully got up, powered on her computer and checked her messages. There were over one hundred in her inbox. Most were junk mail that could be deleted but several were from people she used to work with. Apparently, they hadn’t given up on her. She clicked on the one from Missy Patton, one of her fellow editors. Missy had followed in Kenzie’s footsteps and reported Jared for sexual harassment. That set off a flood of others daring to step forward. Pickens Publishing was in a downward spiral.
Her eyes widened on a message from Jared. She stared at it for a good two minutes before deciding to open it to find a generic apology full of regret and misunderstanding, blah, blah, blah. Jared was so very sorry. Huh. He’d never apologized for anything. His secretary had no doubt written the message, under the direction of the lawyer.
“That one goes right into the trash,” she muttered.
Several emails were from Bernadette, each one more desperate than the last. The woman was about to have a coronary. Apparently, the agency was knocking on bankruptcy’s door and she needed Kenzie’s decision sooner rather than later. Things were bad and if they could stop the damage, it needed to be done now.
She was running for her life and they expected her to care what happened to the company that axed her for speaking up about harassment? She really wanted to fire off a nasty email to Bernadette but settled for an honest one.
I’ve decided not to come back. Please don’t email me again. I won’t change my mind.
She hit send, expecting to feel relieved that it was over, but she felt oddly sad. Being away for a few weeks proved that she didn’t miss the job. She missed some of her coworkers and the authors she worked with, but it was liberating to realize the job didn’t define her.
After clearing out the rest of her inbox, she checked the news to see what had been happening in the world and caught up with the latest celebrity gossip. When she heard Declan finishing up in the bathroom, she shut her computer down and stuffed it back inside her bag.
When he came out of the bathroom all freshly showered and clean-shaven, she couldn’t stop the lurch of her heart. He was an Adonis and she’d slept with him.
By late afternoon, her optimism waned. Sitting around watching cartoons started to take a toll. Jamal was entertained and happy, and she should be working on her novel, but it would be too hard to concentrate. She was dying to know if Bernadette had responded.
The highlight of the day came when they all exercised with push-ups, jumping jacks and sit-ups. Declan cranked out dozens more than either she or Jamal could begin to attempt. He even used Jamal as a weight bar to bench press, much to the boy’s delight.
Accelerating her heartrate felt good, though Declan managed to do the same to her system with just a look. When the phone rang, she excused herself to the bathroom. After using the facilities and washing her hands, she removed the band from around her hair and started to brush out the tangles. She returned to find Declan was already off the phone. He gave her a recap of his conversation while she refastened her hair into a ponytail.
“All that exercise made me hungry,” Jamal announced. “Can we order a pizza?”
Since it looked like they’d be here a while longer, they might as well fuel up. She found a phone book in the table between the beds and placed an order using a fake name with Speedy Pizza. The girl who took the order informed her that it would be delivered in an hour, to which she almost asked why the name Speedy?
She couldn’t stand her sweaty clothes any longer, so she took a shower and washed her hair. She wished she had some of her Harmony products to use, but the cheap moisturizer she picked up at the department store would have to do for now.
Declan was waiting with clothes in his hand when she stepped out.
“I’m going to hit the shower.” He withdrew money from his wallet. “I’ll leave this in case, but I should be out before the pizza arrives. If it does, make sure it’s the delivery person wearing an official uniform before you open the door.”
“I will.”
While he rinsed off the sweat, she checked her messages again. As she suspected, Bernadette had responded, but her gloves had come off and she’d quit with the fake niceties. She was now accusing Kenzie of being a cold-hearted, manipulative bitch who conspired to bring Pickens Publishing down. She deleted the email without responding. She owed them nothing.
She’d just cleared out her unread messages when someone rapped on the door. “Speedy Pizza,” the man called out. She checked her watch. Thirty-five minutes was speedier than an hour.
“I’ve got it.” Jamal jumped up from the floor and grabbed the cash Declan laid on the dresser.
He started for the door when Kenzie yelled, “Wait.” He froze with his hand inches away from the knob. “Let me make sure he is who he says he is.” She powered off her computer and shoved it back in her bag.
Jamal tweaked the curtain aside. “I see his car with the logo and he’s wearing the Speedy Pizza uniform,” he confirmed. Before she stood, he opened the door. “Here’s the—”
“Gotcha!”
“No,” Jamal wailed. “Let me go.”
Kenzie watched in horror as a man in a Speedy Pizza uniform wrapped an arm around Jamal and pointed a weapon at her. She barely managed to dive to the floor and cover her head as he opened fire.
“Kenzie? Are you hurt?”
She looked up as Declan rushed from the bathroom with his gun and charged for the door.
“No, but they took Jamal!”
“Dammit, I can’t return fire. I don’t want to hit him.”
Kenzie grabbed their bags while Declan yanked his shirt over his head and they raced out the door. They both leaped over the fallen pizza, now a mess of cheese and sauce and pepperoni smeared across the sidewalk.
“The SUV should be…there.”
Declan whipped the door open and vaulted into the driver’s seat.
“Declan, look,” she said as she bucked her belt. A shirtless man was tied up in front of the room next to theirs. The real Speedy Pizza delivery man. Thankfully, he hadn’t parked his car behind theirs because Declan punched on the gas and they shot out of the parking space. With a maneuver worthy of a NASCAR champion, he executed a one-eighty and they chased the black car out of the lot.
#
Luis Gomez pumped a fist in the air. He’d finally won! He’d managed to grab the kid. None of his Eighty-Sixer brothers needed to know how hard it’d been. He’d warn Blaze to keep his trap shut. Now they just had to make the brat talk. First, they needed to lose the tail. He glanced over his shoulder at the big black SUV that had roared after them and now practically kissed their bumper. He should’ve whacked the other two while he had the chance. He’d just been shocked the kid had answered the door.
Though he’d been reluctant to call in the Dogs, it paid to have contacts who had contacts. His gang had inroads in the Chicago Police Department, but nothing like the Dogs. Their contact not only dug up the woman’s computer IP address, but had been able to ping it to determine her location. Luis had been sincerely impressed. They’d gotten a hit earlier in the day, but the computer hadn’t stayed on long enough to pinpoint the exact location. They knew the general area, so he and Blaze had parked in the lot of a fast food taco joint and waited for her to turn it back on again. It’d taken forever. They’d both had to go inside the restaurant and use the bathroom more than once. Then the cops came and almost arrested them for loitering.
They’d ended up driving around, and the wait had been excruciating. Blaze had downed four bean burritos and Luis paid for it, both literally and figuratively. Blaze was short on cash, so Luis lent him the money. After
he wolfed down the food, the beans worked their magic and the stink in the car was enough to make Luis vomit. He hung his head out the window and panted like an overheated Mastiff.
It’d been worth the nasal torture when his contact called and directed them to the same motel from last night, but a different room. They hadn’t wandered far at all.
His contact offered to send a crew to help with the takedown, but Luis declined. He didn’t want them getting in the way and messing up the grab. Not that he told him that. No sense in making enemies out of the Dogs. His excuse had been that as soon as they had the kid, they’d be heading directly home to Chicago. And it wasn’t even a lie. They’d had the tire replaced on their ride and though a couple of windows were cracked from bullets, it was in working order.
When they arrived at the motel, they staked out the room, waiting for the perfect opportunity. The curtains were pulled, so they couldn’t see inside. Maybe he was making another mistake by waiting for the cover of darkness again, but he didn’t want to mess up this up again. If someone saw them grabbing the kid in broad daylight, they might call the cops. The best option was waiting until it was dark for a surprise attack, but luck was on his side when minutes later, a beat-up brown car with a Speedy Pizza light on top zipped into the lot and screeched to a stop. There were few cars on this end of the motel, so Luis just knew it was for the occupants of the room they were watching.
He’d jumped out of the car and approached the deliveryman as he removed the pizza from the warming bag in the back seat, letting his gun do the talking with a poke to his back. The man spun around, his eyes widening when he noticed the pistol. His prominent Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.
“What’s the name on the order, Roger?” he asked, reading the name off his Speedy Pizza uniform.
“Uh…” His knobby knees were knocking together like castanets. “Smith.”
Luis rolled his eyes. Could they have been less obvious? “I’ll be delivering that. Take off your shirt and give me your hat.”
“W-what?”
Luis motioned with the gun. “The shirt, now.”
The man stripped off his uniform and hat while shaking like a baby’s rattle. Luis stuck his arms through the holes and fastened the buttons.
“Nice dress,” Blaze guffawed.
The deliveryman was like ten feet tall, so his shirt hung on Luis’s five-seven frame. “Shut your burrito chute and tie the man up.”
Blaze unwound the rope they’d purchased earlier. “Just saying with a nice pair of heels and some earrings…”
Luis flipped him off and jerked the pizza from the back seat. Blaze was still chuckling as he stalked to the door. Luis was reconsidering the man as his second in command. No one made fun of his height and got away with it. He was so touchy about his stature, he even lied to himself. He was only five-five.
The pizza box was burning his palm, so he adjusted his grip and rapped on the door, keeping his head down. “Speedy Pizza,” he called out for good measure.
When the door whipped open, he’d been momentarily stunned to see his prey in front of him. He figured he’d have to shoot his way inside, but the kid made it easy. The big man hadn’t been around, so he fired at the woman and then grabbed the kid and tossed him in the car. Easy as pie.
His hands shot out and clutched the dash in a death grip as Blaze slammed the brakes to avoid plowing over an old man crossing the street. Luis would’ve mowed the grandpa down for being in the way. Blaze was driving like Richard Petty without the years of training. Or the skill. He reached over his shoulder and jerked his belt in place. He had too much to accomplish to die now. He noticed Blaze had already buckled up. The kid was getting tossed around in the back like a sock in a dryer. Served him right for forking Luis’s leg. He’d make the kid pay for that one. His thigh still throbbed like a mother and it was all puffy and red. It might be too late for a tetanus shot now. He’d undergone hours under various needles for his extensive body art, some of highly questionable means, and he’d been fine. It’d be his damn luck to be taken down by a pint-sized utensil stabber. Blaze would probably have that carved into Luis’s tombstone.
“I thought we were going to wait until it was dark to grab the kid so we wouldn’t be recognized.”
“Are you questioning me?” Blaze was on fragile ice as it was. Yes, the plan had been to wait, but he was a leader, so he improvised. It worked so why was Blaze giving him lip?
Tires squealed and he was slammed against the door when Blaze took a curve at eighty miles an hour. “Slow down,” he ordered when the next curve tossed him against Blaze. They’d left the city limits of Detroit and now they were barreling down a narrow two-lane road leading who knew where.
“Can’t,” Blaze insisted. “They’re gaining on us.”
Luis righted himself in the seat and twisted to look over his shoulder. The SUV was practically on top of them. He aimed his gun to fire when Blaze’s violent curse had him whirling back around to peer out the windshield. Dread pooled in his gut. They were approaching a sharp curve marked with about fifteen gigantic yellow signs with flashing lights and black arrows pointing at the direction they needed to turn.
“I can’t make it!” Blaze screamed.
The car careened off the pavement, lurching along a dirt path rutted with potholes. They bumped and bounced and then the ground gave away and they were flying through the air like a ball shot from a cannon. Luis shrieked like a banshee. Neither he nor Blaze could swim.
Luis’ last thought was to wonder if he was Thelma or Louise in this scenario.
Chapter Twelve
Declan slammed the brakes, sending the back end of the SUV fishtailing. He cried out in horror as the car carrying Jamal launched into the air and then disappeared from sight. He sped to the spot where they went over the embankment and ripped off his seat belt. He jumped out in time to see the car splash nose first into a wide, muddy brown river below.
“Oh my God!” Kenzie cried as she rushed to his side.
He started for the edge of the cliff.
“Declan, what are you doing?”
“Going in after him.”
He thought about diving from the top of the embankment, but he didn’t know how deep the water was or what lay beneath the surface. Getting himself paralyzed—or worse—wouldn’t save Jamal. Skidding and sliding down the hill, he made it to the small beach at the bottom and ran to the edge, diving and swimming like Peyton Durant towards the rapidly sinking car. Only a portion of the trunk and back bumper were visible, giving him a point to aim for as his arms and legs propelled him through the water.
He swam for all he was worth, keeping an eye on the spot where the car disappeared. The water was so dark, he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to see beneath the surface and he had no idea the depth of the river. When he reached the spot, he felt around and touched metal. Without letting go, he kicked harder until he grabbed a handle on what was a back door. He didn’t need to try and force it open when he discovered the window was already down. He swam through the opening and felt around inside but it was empty. Where was Jamal? He knew for a fact he wasn’t in the trunk. They’d spotted his head in the backseat as they followed the sedan. Before he could check the front seats, he needed air or else his lungs would explode. He kicked to the surfaced and sucked in air.
“Declan! Declan!”
Movement out of the corner of his eye had him treading water instead of immediately going back under. He spotted Kenzie on the small beach. She’d come down the ridge and was jumping up and down and waving to get his attention.
“I can’t find him,” he yelled back almost desperately. “I’m going back under.”
She pointed with both hands to the expanse of river in front of him. That’s when he saw ripples in the water, heading for the bank. Small arms were pumping for all they were worth. Jamal!
He started in that direction when something clamped onto his ankle and yanked him under. He hadn’t had a chance to hold his breath and he s
wallowed half the river as he sank below the surface. Years of military training taught him not to panic. He kicked out with his other foot, connecting with something solid. Blaze or Boomer, whichever one was holding on to him was desperate and he wasn’t letting go, clinging to him like a vise. The pressure in Declan’s lungs bordered on pain as he thrashed his leg, trying to dislodge the hand. He struck out with the heel of his other foot and this time when he connected, the grip on his ankle released. He shot to the surface, gasping for air and coughing up water. He wanted to leave but his conscience wouldn’t let him. The man was a killer and didn’t deserve saving, but he dove back under anyway. The cloudy water was impenetrable, and he couldn’t find him, nor could he see him. This time when he surfaced, he stroked for the shore and caught up with Jamal just before he hit the beach. His feet touched the ground, so he stood and swept up the boy in his arms.
“Let me go!” Jamal kicked and screamed, flailing his body like a slippery fish.
“Never.”
“Put me down.”
“Jamal, it’s me.”
He immediately stopped struggling. “Declan?”
He deposited him on the bank and then with a strangled cry, Jamal launched into his arms. He barely had time to brace himself. As it was, he staggered back a couple of steps and almost returned to the drink. Kenzie threw herself into the embrace. It was a good thing he’d been in the river so no one would realize the wetness on his face was tears.
“I thought we’d lost you,” Kenzie cried, ripping Jamal from his arms so she could hug him. While they embraced, he stumbled over to a grassy area and regurgitated a swimming pool full of liquid from his lungs. Man, that stuff was nasty. He didn’t even want to think about what chemicals or other unsavory toxins floated in the murky water.
Kenzie released Jamal and he jumped up and down, pointing to the river. “I did it! I swam all that way. It’s the farthest I’ve ever gone by myself. Did you see?”
Declan swallowed a lump of pride. “I did, buddy. You were awesome.”
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