by Jessica Ashe
“You guys are idiots. You do realize you’ve kidnapped a detective?”
“We know,” Burton admits. “That was kind of the point.”
“I know who you are. We’ve been investigating you.”
“Again, we know. Why do you think you’re here?”
“Just seems to me like kidnapping a detective is a big step up for you guys. You’re out of your league.”
“In that case, perhaps you should shut up. Wouldn’t want us to panic and do something stupid.”
“Calm down, Burton,” Jay says, standing in the corner looking at his phone. “Don’t let her get to you. Keep focused on the mission.”
“No one’s going to pay much of a ransom for me,” I say.
“We’re not after a ransom, sweetheart.”
What is their mission? Even halfway competent criminals avoid bringing themselves to the attention of the police. They must be on another level of stupid entirely to get me involved, unless I’m part of a bigger plan.
“If you want information, you picked the wrong detective. I’ve only been working there a couple of weeks. I don’t know shit.”
“Yeah, that is becoming quickly apparent. You’re not here for a ransom, and you’re not here for information. You’re here to serve a bigger purpose. For now though, just keep your mouth shut. I’m fed up of listening to you.”
“But what’s—”
Burton pulls a gun out from the inside of his jacket and points it towards me.
“You don’t scare me,” I lie. “If you were going to kill me, you would have done it already.”
Burton laughs, and Jay and Chet join in with him.
“How many times are you going to strike out today?” Jay asks. “I should put you out of your misery.”
“Is this the bit where the bad guy tells me the plan when he should just kill me? I’ve always liked that bit.”
Humor as a defense mechanism—it’s the only weapon I have right now.
Speaking of weapons, I glance down to my right and notice a Glock 22. It’s identical to the gun I’ve been training with, and is the one used by most of the police force. There’s even a spare magazine next to it.
Why the hell have they left a gun so close? It would be in arm’s reach, if my arms weren’t tied behind my back.
“We don’t have to tell you our plan,” Jay says. “You’re going to watch it all unfold right before your eyes. And then we’ll put a bullet in your brain.”
For the first time, I’m truly scared. Fear consumes my entire body and I take a deep breath through my nose to avoid throwing up.
And then we’ll put a bullet in your brain.
He meant it. I could see it in his eyes. He is going to kill me. This isn’t a kidnapping, there’s no attempt for a ransom or interrogation. He’s going to kill me.
“He’s calling again,” Chet says, showing Jay my cell phone. “You sure he knows to come here?”
“He’s a bright lad, he’ll figure it out.”
“If that’s Tanner, he’s going to kill you,” I say sternly. “He’s killed before, not like you pansies.”
“You got that right,” Jay says. “He’s a killer, and that’s why no one will question it when he kills you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. He’s never going to kill me.”
“No, I’m going to claim that honor for myself. But it will look like he’s killed you. And it will look like you’ve killed him. Who’s going to question the crime scene when they find a cop and a known criminal dead, having apparently shot each other with their own guns.”
That’s why the Glock 22 is on the floor. It’s not specifically my gun—I don’t have one yet because I haven’t completed the training—but it’s not a stretch to imagine it might have been stolen from a police officer. It can’t be definitively linked to me, but the evidence might be convenient enough for everyone to look past that.
“You realize you just told me your plan, right?” I mention. “Just saying.”
Jay looks at me angrily and snaps “put that bag back on her head. If she says one more word gag her. Oh and get her fingerprints on the gun. Then we need to get ready. He’s going to be here soon, and I for one can’t wait.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Tanner
She’s not answering her phone, but that would spoil the point of ignoring me.
I pull up outside my house, but instead of going inside, I run into Elena’s building and bang on the door. I keep slamming my fist on the door even as I hear someone inside approaching.
“She’s not here, Tanner,” Sadie says as she opens the door. “And even if she was, she wouldn’t want to see you. You need to give her some space right now.”
“It’s not like that,” I blurt out through heavy breaths. “I’ve messed up, but not how you think. I just need to know she’s safe.”
“Safe?”
“Will you phone her? You don’t have to speak to her; I just want to know she’s okay.”
“You’re freaking me out right now, Tanner.”
“Sorry, but I need you to do it.”
I watch Sadie as she calls Elena’s phone and gets no response. “Maybe she’s working late,” Sadie suggests.
“Shit. This can’t be happening.”
“What can’t be happening? Tanner, what’s going on? Shall I call the police?”
“No, I’m going to deal with it myself. Keep trying to get through to her. Call her phone every five minutes until she answers.”
Sadie nods and I run back out of the house into my car. Something’s not right. They ordered me to kill Elena, and suddenly she goes missing. Have they grabbed her? Why would they get their own hands dirty when they think I’m taking care of it?
I drive straight over to the abandoned clothing store Daron told me about. They wouldn’t usually be here now, but if they’ve done something stupid then this is where they’d come. I barely know the area at all, but after driving by twice I see a side entrance down an alley. It’s not ideal, but it must be better than walking in through the front door.
I park up a few minutes away, and duck down the alley, looking for open windows. There’s nothing down the side, but there is a fire escape I can climb up. By standing on a dumpster, I make it to the fire escape with a loud crash. If they didn’t already know I was coming, they do now.
I climb up two floors, shimmy along a window ledge, climb up one more floor via a drainpipe, and then swing around to a window that is cracked open an inch. I hang on with one hand, and open the window with the other. It’s a tight squeeze, but I throw my body through and fortunately land on a carpeted floor just a few feet below the window.
May my good luck continue for a little while longer.
The entire floor is pitch black, and it doesn’t take me long to confirm it’s empty. There’s only one floor above me, and I can’t hear a peep from up there. I enter the stairwell, and immediately feel exposed. I leap down the stairs and burst onto the second floor, drawing my gun out in front of me in one smooth motion.
The second floor is empty as well, but this time I hear voices. They’re in the building, but the voices are coming from the ground floor. They’re expecting me to come in through the front door, which at least gives me an advantage. A small one, but they all count.
I duck back into the stairwell, and quietly move down to the ground floor. Despite all the noise I’ve made, there’s a small chance they haven’t heard me yet.
I open the door as quietly as I can, but the metal frame creaks loudly, the noise reverberating around the building. Okay, now they’ve definitely heard me.
There’s not much light on this floor either, but one room is lit up in the far corner. I duck down and quickly move along the corridor until I’m outside the room. The blinds are half open, but the room’s so dark I can barely see anything. The only light comes from a small lamp that’s close to a woman sat on a chair.
Elena.
My God, they have her. Those fuckers are going to suffer.
I want to dash in there immediately, but I’ll be shot down before I can reach her. Even worse, she might get hit too. She’s not been hurt so far. I can see her body rising and falling slightly with each breath. She’s been gagged, but it doesn’t look like she’s been badly hurt. I can still save her.
Keeping low, I scurry around to the side of the room opposite the door, and deliberately make some noise. No one comes out of the room to investigate. I make noise again, but still nothing.
Shit.
The best I can hope for is that their attention is focused on this side of the room. I hurry back round and put my hand on the doorknob.
Here goes nothing.
I burst through the door and raise my gun to shoulder height swinging it between the three of them. “Nobody move. Elena, I’m going to get you out of here.”
Elena is trying to tell me something, but the gag is muffling her words. The nearby lamp illuminates her face and I see her eyes open wide in fear. She’s never experienced anything like this before and it’s all my fault.
I can’t even begin to imagine what this must be like for her.
I’m going to make it up to her.
“Backs against the wall,” I command. None of them move. I can’t make out their facial expressions in the dark, but they’ve not moved an inch. “I said, backs against the wall.”
Still nothing. I keep my gun raised, as I move to the side of the room and flip the light switch by the door.
What the… mannequins. It’s just three mannequins standing there wearing three jackets that look distantly familiar.
I run over to Elena and put my gun down on the floor before pulling off the gag.
“…trap,” she blurts out. “It’s a trap.”
I quickly reach for my gun, but my hand is inches from the grip when I hear a voice from the doorway.
“Hold it right there, Tanner,” Jay yells. “If your hand touches that gun you’ll die even sooner than you’re already going to. Follow the rules, and we might let you say goodbye to your lady friend.”
Chet and Burton both point their guns at me while Jay walks calmly into the room and picks up my Beretta M9 with the cuff of his sleeve to avoid getting any fingerprints on it. He then places it down at the far side of the room.
What’s he playing at?
“Go on then,” Jay says. “I’m feeling all sentimental. You have thirty seconds to say goodbye.”
“Then what?”
“Isn’t it obvious? Then you both die.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Elena
“He’s going to make it look like we killed each other,” I tell Tanner.
“Oh. I see.”
I’m not convinced Jay’s little plan will work, but even if it doesn’t, Tanner and I will still be dead. Jay’s eventual conviction won’t be much to brag about. It’s hard to gloat from the grave.
“Stand over here,” Jay yells at Tanner.
Jay’s going to make us face each other so the angles of the gunshots line up. That means at some point he needs to untie me, because it won’t look like a natural shootout if I’m tied to a chair.
Sure enough, Burton loosens the ropes around my wrists and unties me from the chair. Before I can do anything, he promptly ties my hands up again, but this time they’re in front of me and the knot is looser. I’m also standing now as well, although the best I can do is kick one of them in the balls, and even then I’ll probably fall over in the process.
“Tanner, I’m sorry,” I murmur. I think I’ve done a decent job pretending to be brave in front of these assholes, but the second I talk to Tanner I fall apart.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Tanner replies. “I don’t know if you’ll ever be able to forgive me, but I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying.”
“The rest of your life, is about thirty seconds,” Jay says.
“I know I haven’t lived the healthiest of lifestyles,” Tanner says, “but I reckon I’ve got at least forty years left in me.”
Jay laughs. “I admire your optimism.”
“Any chance you have a plan?” I ask Tanner. “Don’t the good guys usually have a plan for situations like this?”
“I have one idea.”
“Care to share it?”
“Can’t do any harm. Elena?”
“Yes?”
“Duck.”
I don’t so much duck as fall to the floor in an undignified mess. For a second there is silence and I even hear Burton laugh behind me. Not for long though.
The door bursts open and Daron charges in with his gun held up at shoulder height. He points it straight at Burton and fires a round that sends him to the floor screaming in agony.
Jay goes for his gun, but in doing so he takes eyes off Tanner. Big mistake.
Tanner grabs Jay by the throat and slams him back into the wall. Jay’s head hits the wall so hard he drops his gun, which Tanner quickly picks up and points at Jay. He looks about ready to put a bullet in Jay’s head, but he’s forgotten about Chet who is slowly reaching to his waist for his gun.
I shout a warning, but there’s too much noise, with Burton and Jay screaming in pain, and Daron and Tanner yelling at them.
I wriggle over to the gun lying on the floor. It’s not my gun, but it’s a Glock 22—the exact same model I briefly trained with at the station. I grab the gun, remove the safety, and point it at Chet. I don’t think. I don’t worry that I might be about to kill someone. I just do it. I pull the trigger.
There’s an unsatisfying click.
The chamber’s empty.
Chet has his hand on his gun, but he’s moving slowly, hoping not to be noticed. I shout again, but still no one listens.
I wriggle over to the spare magazine lying on the floor. It’s the same one I practiced with at the gun range when Tanner taught me to reload. I can’t quite do it with my eyes shut, but I still manage.
With a full magazine loaded in the gun, I raise it once again and point it at Chet, just as he is pulling the safety off his own weapon.
Here goes nothing.
I pull the trigger again, and this time I feel the kick, and hear the loud bang as the bullet slams into Chet’s side. He lets go of the gun just as Tanner and Daron look round at me with a panicked expression on their faces.
“You’re welcome,” I say calmly.
Daron drags Burton over and dumps him by Chet and Jay who are both still screaming in agony with their backs against the wall.
Tanner rushes over to me and grabs my cheeks with both hands. He kisses my forehead, nose, and then lips, before going back to my forehead.
“I’m sorry,” he mutters. “I’m so sorry. If you’ll let me, I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Please forgive me, princess.”
“I forgive you, Tanner.” He kisses the tears that are streaming down my cheeks. “Um, Tanner? Now would be a great time to untie me.”
“Oh yeah, sorry.”
I groan with relief, as Tanner frees my wrists from their bond. Rope burns have left a red circle around my wrists that stings like hell. “For future reference, I much prefer being tied up with handcuffs.”
Tanner laughs for a split second, but his face quickly turns serious as he brings me in for a hug. “I can’t believe I almost lost you. Listen, princess, you need to get out of here. Daron will take you back to the bar.”
“What? We all need to leave, Tanner. Let’s get out of here.”
Tanner kisses me on the forehead again. “I’ll be right behind you. I need to take care of some business first.”
Tanner picks up one of the guns and heads over to Jay and his crew. Daron tucks his gun away and starts pushing me to the door.
“We have to go,” Daron urges.
“Not without Tanner,” I reply. I try to ground my feet on the floor, but I’m too weak, and Daron is far too strong for me. In the end, he practically lifts me off the ground and carries me back to the car waiting outside.
“It�
��s been half an hour, where is he?”
“I don’t know,” Daron replies.
“We need to go back there. Or we should call the police.”
“Tanner gave me strict instructions to bring you back to Hard Times and not let you leave until he came back.”
“Kidnapped twice in one night. Brilliant.”
I send a quick message to Sadie to get her to stop phoning me all the damn time. Sounds like Tanner went to the house and got her worked up before coming over to rescue me. I just hope she hasn’t called my dad—then we’re all in trouble.
“Did he tell you he would be this long?” I ask.
“No,” Daron admits. “He should be back by now.”
“Then we need to go back there.”
“No way. I’m lucky to have gotten out of there alive; If I take you back into the danger zone, Tanner will kill me.”
I pace up and down the bar, unable to keep still, my mind racing about what could have happened. The three guys looked completely out of it, and Tanner and Daron stripped them of their guns. They shouldn’t be able to do anything, but then why is Tanner taking so long?
Did someone report the gunshots? We didn’t hear any sirens on the way out, but maybe the police showed up and arrested Tanner.
“How did you get involved in all this?” I ask Daron to try and take my mind off Tanner. “Clearly you aren’t like the other three.”
“I’m nothing like them. I never would’ve gotten involved in anything like this. It all just snowballed. Tanner tried to keep me out of it.”
“And you didn’t listen?”
Daron shakes his head. “I would’ve if he had told me the whole story.”
“Whole story?”
“He’s—no, it’s not my story to tell. Tanner will tell you when he gets back.”
And when will that be? I have a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, but I refuse to contemplate the other question.
Will he come back at all?
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Tanner