by Debbie Civil
“What are you going to do with us?” the woman cries. Jack points his gun at her and she silences. His friend grins in anticipation. It’s obvious that any misstep for us will lead to punishment. Otis, who looks as though he had just gone through a group mugging slumps against the wall. It’s obvious that he has no idea what to do about this situation. Suddenly, a thump sounds from upstairs. Someone has been dispatched, much in the way that we have been. Moments later the basement door opens and the guards jump out of the way as someone is thrown down the stairs. When the person lands in a heap at the bottom, I recognize that it is Uncle Kenny. He doesn’t move and that seems to annoy Jack. He drags Kenny over to the crying woman and ensures that he is face up. His face is covered in blood. I wince at the gash on his forehead. Deep down inside, I know things will get worse.
“Jack, you’re needed upstairs,” someone shouts. Jack and the other guard exit and I hear a lock being clicked into place when he’s gone.
“Why are we here?” I rasp. Peter doesn’t seem to want to talk about that. He lifts me into his lap and hugs me to his chest.
“Chelsea, we’ve got to get out of here,” he whispers. I cling to him, feeling bad that he has been dragged into this because of me. I’m so selfish. Peter wanted to pull away to keep his family safe after Adam had threatened us. I challenged him to stay. Then, everything with Amy had happened. No one saw the signs. How could we have? It’s clearly obvious that her death is related to this.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. Peter doesn’t ask me what I’m sorry for. Instead he rests his chin atop my head.
“None of that matters, Chelsea. We have to find our way out of here. That’s the most important thing.” So the man that I love is a fighter. Maybe he is army material after all. Hell, who knows if I am. If I were overseas being held as a prisoner, what would I do? Try to escape. But how do I escape when I don’t even have a weapon? I look around at everyone assembled and know that efforts are useless unless Uncle Kenny wakes up.
“What’s the plan?” I whisper which for some reason hurts even worse.
“Do you have Martial arts training?” Peter asks softly.
“A little bit.” He frowns.
“I will over power the guard and attempt to get the gun. If I get the gun…” His dark eyes are filled with regret. Peter doesn’t want to think about it. He will have to shoot the men without hesitation.
“Where are we?” I ask.
“At a development. For all I know, the limo is still here,” he says.
“I never got the keys,” I admit.
“I know. You were drugged and dragged down to the basement. If Otis or I fought them, they were going to kill you,” Peter explains.
“Peter, I’m sorry. If I had left you alone, you wouldn’t have been dragged into this,” I say. He frowns at me.
“This isn’t your fault, sweetheart. You didn’t know.” His dark eyes are filled with love and devotion. I have no idea why I’m deserving of his affections. But when we make it out of here, I will make sure that I make Peter the happiest man alive. There will be no more drama with Adam.
“What are you thinking?” he asks.
“When we get out of here, things will be different,” I promise. Peter looks weary.
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, I will spend every day making sure that you know how much I love you.” My proclamation makes him smile, until he winces.
“So you’re sure about me?” Peter asks.
“Yes, I’m sure about you.” He hugs me and the moment is broken when the door opens. Jack runs down the stairs with a big smile on his face.
“Good news, the others are here,” he tells us. As soon as I had heard the door open, I had slipped out of Peter’s lap. Now that his strong arms aren’t around me, I feel cold. Moments later, another guard rushes down the stairs and points his gun at Otis.
“You, come over here,” he orders. The driver looks as though he wants to rebel but a gun is trained on Uncle Kenny and that gets the man moving. He follows the guard up the stairs, and that’s where the mistake is made.
“Otis,” I shriek. The plea is heard and the guard is knocked unbalanced by a boot to his groin. As he’s attacked, I’m flying toward Jack and land a kick to his balls. The gun goes off and dust sprays down. It is a miss fire. Peter kicks Jack in the stomach and delivers a blow to his head. Jack falls to the ground and the gun falls in the process. Peter may be a martial artist, but I know that I’m the better shot. I dive for the gun, pick it up and look around. Otis is still grappling with the other guard for the gun. They are locked in a strange looking embrace. If I shoot, the bullet may hit Otis. But I don’t have much of a choice when the guard starts screaming for help. I hear running footsteps overhead and know that it’s now or never. Just when I’m about to shoot the door opens and another guard appears and shoots Otis in the head. I can’t look. It’s too difficult to see the man’s lifeless body tumble down the stairs. But I see all of the blood and the sound of that gunshot is causing my ears to ring. Seeing what has happened to Otis makes a dark rage come over me. How dare they take the lives of such innocent people? We have done absolutely nothing to them. And yet, we are kidnapped, shot and abused. That bastard has to pay. He can’t take anyone else. With that resolve, I aim and shoot the man that has taken out Otis.
“Chelsea,” Peter yells as another gun fires. He shoves me to the ground which is the only thing that saves my life. There is a groan that announces that Jack is awake. The gun is out of my hands. I had dropped it in the fall. Two shots are fired and I’m assuming the worst. But then, peter shifts aside and I slowly sit up. The two guards are dead and Kenny, who has been beaten and battered, is standing over Jack.
“Get the guns,” Peter orders as he grabs the gun from the dead guard and shoves it at me. So we are really going to shoot our way out. I stare at Otis and regret fills me. It’s because of him that we even have a fighting chance. He will be remembered, and hopefully, his death will be avenged.
“Bianca,” Kenny calls softly. The woman is in the corner balling hysterically. She won’t help us. All it will take is a lock of that door and we are trapped. We have to do something about her. Kenny walks over to her and shakes her shoulders. When that doesn’t work, he slaps her. She looks up and he whispers something to her. Peter has just gotten the third gun and is looking back and is shouting with his eyes for us to hurry up. He needs to get out of here and I’m not going to risk him dying. It pains me to step over Otis, but his body is in the way. I make my way up the stairs and see a slither of light announcing that the guard hadn’t been wise enough to have someone lock the door after him. Well, that works in our favor. Peter creeps through the door, gun steady, and walks through. I follow him and stare at the place. We are in a house that is under construction. Dust, piles of sheet rock, and tools are scattered all over the place. The kitchen is a mess with half built cabinets and a stove that is missing burners. The door is so close to us and I want to scream in elation. A voice stops me cold.
“Leave him alone,” Grandmother shouts. Peter turns and looks at me. A decision needs to be made. He looks to his right, where the shout came from and in front of him, where he can clearly see the door. He gestures that he will go to the right and that I should leave. I’m about to protest until he mouths, “help.” I brush my lips across his cheek and whisper I love you before quietly opening the door and bolting out into the hot August sun.
The limo is still there in its exact spot. I find that odd, but don’t question it. Instead, I push myself to run toward it. No one is outside standing guard and I figure that it’s because we are in an isolated area. Thank God, the door is open. I slide in, ignoring the bee that is cruising along. My cell phone is resting in the back. Lucky break. It isn’t dead so I quickly unlock it and call 911.
“911 what’s your emergency?” a gentle voice asks. I try to talk, but my vocal chords are screaming.
“Help. We've been kidnapped,” is all I can say before a black Ch
evy pulls up beside me. I let out an involuntary shriek and the woman continues to ask questions.
“Where are you? Do you notice any landmarks?”
“I don’t know. A house that’s being renovated. I got to go. They are coming,” I say as a man holding a gun hops out of the driver’s seat. Another door opens and another man exits. He opens the back door and moments later, a bound and gagged Olivia is being dragged out. My heart beats for a moment before I realize that they intend on bringing my friend into the house. Peter. He’s hiding in the kitchen and has not exited yet. If he’s discovered, it will be all over for us. I don’t even think about it. The men are so busy dealing with Olivia, who thankfully, is struggling that they don’t even notice me slipping out of the Limo and raising the gun. I shoot the thicker of the two men first. Blood explodes from his neck and he drops his gun and his hold on Olivia’s head as he crumples to the ground. The other man does something I don’t expect. He turns pale and runs, speeding away in the Chevy he came in. I’m shock and grateful at the same time. She wipes at the blood on her face as I leap into the limo and open the glove compartment. Thank goodness, there is a box cutter. I rush out and unbind her and she yanks the tape from her mouth.
“Are you a good shot?” I ask. Olivia looks at me like I’m crazy.
“No.”
“Do you know where we are?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“Talk to the police. I’ve got to go in and get Peter out,” I say before grabbing the dead man’s gun and sprinting back into the house.
Peter isn’t in the kitchen where I last saw him. That makes my heart rate spike. I look around the place and notice that a gun is in the corner. So someone had dragged him somewhere. I don’t dare call out. Uncle Kenny and Bianca are walking into the kitchen and I gesture for them to leave. He frowns at me but I shake my head. He can’t help me. This woman is just too hysterical.
“Let them go,” my Grandmother cries and a sick feeling fills my chest. No. Peter. They must have Peter. I walk slowly toward the hallway as Kenny coaxes the woman out of the door. A gun fires and my panic causes me to run. I fly into the living room and pause. Grandma is tied to a chair and five men are standing around the room. They each have a gun pressed to an individual’s head. The person who had a gun pressed to Uncle Vincent’s head must have fired because my uncle is missing half his head. I want to vomit. But instead I make eye contact with my grandmother and put a finger to my lips. No one notices me yet. I stare at Peter, and want to scream out in rage. Adam is the one pressing a gun to my boyfriend’s head. And Peter is staring straight ahead as if none of this matters. I stomp down on the urge to shoot Adam. It isn’t time yet. A man in the middle of the room smirks as she sees Vincent. He’s dark haired, skinny, and even though his back is too me I know that he has blue eyes. The man that has orchestrated all of this is Uncle Eric. That realization makes me sick. I want to hurl. Instead, I zero in on Peter who looks strong and brave and draw strength from him. He doesn’t notice because his eyes are on my grandmother.
“Mom, all you have to do is change the will,” he says sweetly. Seriously? All of this is over money? I feel sick to my stomach.
“I can’t,” she cries. I bite my lip to keep myself from yelling at the woman. Come on, she can’t just give up the money? Why? Money isn’t worth what happened to Otis and Uncle Vincent. A pang goes through my chest when I think about what has happened. No matter if we get out of this or not, people are already dead. Peter might be dead if I don’t do something about this. I look from Uncle Eric to the criminals. A memory of what happened after I had shot the man holding Olivia springs into my mind. This is difficult. I have two choices, Peter or Grandma. I don’t want to gamble. I tell myself that once he goes down, the other targets will be easy to kill. Peter, the love of my life will be safe. He’s quick enough. No one else can die. I know that. So without hesitation I lift the gun and shoot.