by Sienna Blake
I jump when I hear a dog bark in the distance. Please, God, let there be no guard dogs on this property. I eye the entrance yawing open at me, my only way out. Shit. Am I really doing this?
Yes. I’m really doing this. I have to know who Caden is and what he wants from me. I have to. My heart, maybe my life, depends on it. I slip through the edge of the gate and against the row of bushes that line the parking space. I bolt crouched over between the cars, staying out of the light until I get to the other side, where the field of shipping containers begins. I cringe when my boots crackle on gravel as I press up against the closest container. I can smell oil and salt on the air.
I scan the area looking for where Caden might have gone. To my left there are just more rows and rows of containers drowned in shadows. To my right, even more containers. Up ahead at the end of the driveway I spot what looks like an office shed. A dark car is parked at the front. The shed is lit from inside and I can see shadows moving across the windows. Is that where Caden went? If I can just get close enough to see who is inside…
I glance back at the entrance – God, it seems so far away – and pray I’m not making a huge mistake. I turn back to stare at the depths of this lot. I creep, slowly, placing each step so that the gravel makes as little noise as possible, moving slowly along the rusty metal containers, trying to stay in the dark, my eyes flicking, darting, about me. I am barely breathing as I press up against the closest container to the shed. I peer again around me. I’m okay. I’m okay. No one’s around.
From here I can see the car parked outside the shed is a black Mercedes. Fancy car. The front of the shed is splattered in places with dirt and mud, probably flicked up by cars’ tires.
I slide around the corner of the container and duck against the side of the shed. The outside is made of sheets of corrugated metal layered with dust. There are two dirty square windows set in the side, but the view inside is obscured by the closed ribs of cheap blinds. Wait, I can see light peeking out through the bottom of one window. One corner section of the blinds is bent up, out of shape.
I crouch under the window. I can hear the hum of muffled voices through the thin glass above. Up through the broken blinds I see shadows moving across the ceiling inside. My fingers curl lightly on the sill. I ignore the layer of grime sticking to my fingers as I pull my eyes up to the gap.
Inside is a chaotic office space, one paper-buried desk and a wall covered in racks of files and more papers. I can see Caden at an angle from where I stand. He seems agitated and he waves his hands about as he talks. I can see his mouth moving, but I can’t hear what he is saying.
There’s someone else in there with him. Another man. His back is to me. He wears a dark shirt and dark pants over his thin, wiry frame. I spot a gold watch on his left hand as he shakes his hand back at Caden. The owner of the Mercedes, I assume. A lump develops in my throat when I spot the handle of a gun peering out from the back of his pants. Who is this man? And why does Caden look upset?
A hand grabs my collar and pulls me up roughly, choking me so that my yelp turns into a gasp. “Oi. Whatchu doin’ ‘ere.”
His voice causes a frenzied rush of fear to rise up through my body. I think I know that voice. It echoes in some of the memories of my past. He spins me around so that I slam against the shed wall, causing it to bang. In my periphery, I spot the gun tucked into his belt at his hip. That doesn’t scare me as much as what I see across his face. The familiarity of his features – hook nose, dark-slit eyes violently framed with thick brows – tickle my insides.
Shit. I know that face. Do I know that face? Oh God. Is this one of Jacob’s men? I stare at Hooknose, willing my memory to place him.
No. You’re paranoid. You’re seeing connections to Jacob everywhere. This can’t be one of Jacob’s men. It can’t.
“I said, whatchu doin’ ‘ere? You mute or sumthin’?” His brows press down, further narrowing his eyes, and I can see the gears working in his mind. “Wait a minute… Do I know you?”
Oh God. I hear noises from the shed and the door unlocking. Caden and the man he’s with. They heard me bang against the shed. Caden’s going to catch me snooping. I have to get out of here.
My body reacts of its own volition. I knee Hooknose fast and hard in the crotch, then send a right elbow to his jaw, knocking him to the side. He lets out a pained groan as he hits the ground. “Bitch.”
I run for the entrance, my heart crashing as loudly as the gravel underneath me. My eyes focus on the dark open gate like it’s the light at the end of my tunnel.
“What the fuck’s going on?” the other man calls from behind me. I swear I know that voice, too. I don’t look back. Caden can’t see my face.
“Stop her!” I hear Hooknose yell.
Their footsteps crunch on the gravel behind me. I curse when I see the gates ahead starting to roll closed. Someone has turned on the automatic gates. I put on a burst of speed and I can feel the spray of gravel flicking up from my heels. I’m not going to make it. The gate is closing too fast. I hear them yelling for me to stop, the sound only causing me to sprint faster.
Then the first shot is fired. The bullet clips part of a container that I race past and I let out a scream. Oh God. They’re shooting at me.
I veer right and dart into a dark slip between two shipping containers. I keep running between these rows of containers, not knowing where I’m going, not knowing where this is leading me, just knowing I need to get away from them.
“There she is.” I turn right. Then left. I’m running deeper into the heart of the compound, but I have no other choice. I swerve in and out of the shipping containers, eyes darting about me to look for some way out of this mess while keeping an eye out for an ambush.
I can hear them faintly behind me. They’ll have spread out across the lot and are searching the area for me. They know I’m here somewhere. I doubt that they’ll stop looking before they find me. Maybe kill me. I need to get off this lot.
Shit. I’m coming to the end of this labyrinth of containers. I press up against a container for a second to figure out what I’m doing next, one ear open for the sound of someone approaching. This is the last row of containers. Beyond here are the two large warehouses sitting side by side. I can see them looming up above the container I’m pressed against. Peering around the corner, their matching wide entrances look like grinning toothless mouths. There’s light oozing out of the left warehouse. The right one looks dark inside.
These two warehouse go all the way to the edge of the portside. I can smell the water from here and feel the moisture against my skin. The water. The only way off this lot now is by the water. There’s a space that runs between these two warehouses to the edge of the docks and into the river. If I can just make it down to the end of the dock without being seen…
Through the path between the containers, I aim right towards the dark warehouse until it looms directly above me. After checking that no one’s watching, I run out from the containers and press into the shadowed wall of this warehouse. I have to be quick. It’s only a matter of time before they realize I have exited the area of shipping containers. I skirt along to the left corner of the building before I peer around. There, between the two warehouses, the water glints at me, mocking me. God, it’s so far away. This warehouse is huge.
Movement to my left makes me flinch. Someone steps out of the brightened warehouse across from me, his shadow long and menacing against the light inside the building. I gasp and pull back along the wall until I’m just inside the entrance of the dark warehouse. Peering around, I can see that he has lit up a cigarette; the end of it glows with every inhale. I don’t have time to wait for him to leave.
Something moves between two of the shipping containers, catching my eye. Shit. It’s one of the men after me. They’re getting closer. I can’t stay out here. I do the only thing I can. I back into the dark warehouse.
Inside, the warehouse is dim. Only a few of the overhanging lights are on, casting a bare-bones li
ght across the space. It spans from here to the edge of the water, where I can see the moon and the night sky blinking with stars out the open end. Freedom. Between us are rows and rows of large crates, each the size of a small living room.
If I can just make my way through this dark maze to the open side of the warehouse I can get to the water. If I can get to the water, I have a chance at swimming down the river and pulling myself out at a safe place along the bank, far away from here. If I can just make it to the open end without being caught…
I creep across the hard concrete floor, weaving through the maze of crates, most of them still nailed shut. I press up along the crates, feeling the rough wood rub against my skin, to peer around corners into the gloom. I ignore the splinters that catch on my shirt. So far, I haven’t seen anyone else in here.
I kick something without meaning to, making a rustling sound. Shit. I cringe. Did somebody hear that? Please let no one hear that. I hold my breath, trying to listen over the thud of my heart in my ears.
Nothing. Well, I think there’s nothing.
I look down to the object I have kicked. It’s a bag. A bag of coffee beans. In the gloom I can just make out the lettering “Colombia” on the bag. I frown. The bag has been ripped open, and there are some wayward beans about the concrete. There’s some sort of residue on the lip of the bag and the floor. My curiosity getting the better of me, I bend down, catching the smell of coffee beans. I press my finger into the powder on the floor and pinch a bit. I hold it up and rub it between my finger and thumb, frowning. What the…
I dab the tip of my tongue with my finger. Where the powder touches my tongue, it starts to tingle and goes numb. Oh God. I know what this is. I learned about it and its effects in my nursing course. A cold chill settles on me. This is why they’re trying to kill me. Not because Hooknose recognized me, but because they have drugs in this warehouse. Now I’m a witness. And they can’t have witnesses.
Oh God. Caden led me here. Caden’s a drug dealer.
It all makes sense. His secrets, his dual identities, the letters postmarked from Colombia, all his money. It’s drug money. The man I love is a criminal. Now because I know, he’ll have to kill me if he finds me. He even warned me once.
“Okay, Cade. Who are you?”
“Be careful what you ask me. You may not like the answer.”
I thought he was joking.
This is why he never wanted me completely in his life. This is what he was keeping from me. In some twisted way he was trying to protect me by keeping these things from me. His rules about not touching him or being able to see him… he must have gang tattoos on his body or jail tattoos. So when I demanded not to be blindfolded…
“You don’t know what you’re asking for.” Caden’s hands shake around me with rage. “If you did, if you only knew, you wouldn’t fucking ask. If you knew…”
My heart breaks with the realization and hot liquid squeezes out of my eyes. Oh, Caden, you were right. I didn’t know what I was asking for. Now that know I wish I didn’t. It’s too late. I can never go back to being ignorant. Never. Now we stand apart on two sides of a dividing line and neither of us can cross it. How do I pretend not to know that about you? I can’t. We can never be together again. It’s over.
A noise snaps me out of my thoughts and I flinch. What was that? It comes again from the entrance of the warehouse. Talking. Two male voices. Oh God. They’ve followed me in here. Footsteps clip across the concrete floor. Coming towards me.
I have to pull it together or I’m dead. I wipe my eyes as I glance across to the open sky through the warehouse and at the forest of crates between. It’s still too far away. If I make a run for it, I’ll get caught. I need to hide. Hide where? My eyes search around me. I see that one of the crates near me is open, the wooden panel removed from one side and lying flat on the floor. I can see the irregular shapes of more coffee bags inside.
“Come out, come out wherever you are.” Caden’s voice, so close, sends a wash of cold fear through me. Oh God. He’s coming for me.
I duck into the open crate and slip into the back, cringing as a bag rustles when I brush past it. I crouch behind a pile of bags near the back. The air is musty back here. My lungs are screaming at me for more oxygen, but I force myself to take small shallow breaths. I have to stay calm. I have to stay still long enough for them to check the warehouse and move on.
I lift my eyes above the bags. My breath hitches as a figure walks into the square view at the entrance to this crate. Oh God. It’s Caden. I would recognize his looming figure anywhere. My heart slams against my ribs when I notice the gun he is holding in his hands.
He turns his head to look inside the crate. I duck down further. Please don’t come in here, please. My insides are screaming and thrashing, run, my skin is prickling all over me, making me tremble. Even the hairs on my skin leap into the air in an attempt to escape.
I hear a footstep as Caden takes a step inside the crate, blocking my only way out. My throat squeezes. I’m cornered in here. Oh fuck. I’m cornered. Caden’s going to find me.
With a shaking hand I carefully reach behind me and slip the gun from my belt. I hear another footstep over the roar of blood in my veins. My fingers squeeze around the gun handle. Caden wouldn’t really hurt me would he? If he knew it was me back here? Would he?
A cold thought rips through my already broken heart like it was paper. Yes, he would. He has no other choice. Just like I have no choice either. If he finds me I’m going to have to shoot.
I’m sorry, Caden.
I hear the creak of wood as he takes another step closer. He’s coming. I can feel his presence looming towards me. It seems to get darker in this crate like his body is blocking out all the light. I clench my gun, aim just above the bags and wait for his head to appear.
I’ve never shot anyone before. Now I’m about to shoot Caden. Caden. The man I love. Oh God, how much of me will die with him? How much?
I hear another step. He’s just over the other side of this pile of coffee bags. He’s right there. Right there. My finger shakes as it curls around the trigger. Get ready. I catch his scent, his wood smoke, my home. My insides crumble. My vision blurs behind hot tears. I can’t do it. I can’t kill him. I can’t.
You must. It’s your life or his…
He takes another step. I can feel my mouth and face screwing up as I start to cry silently, my gun shaking along with my body. I don’t know what I’m going to do. I don’t know whether I can pull this trigger. I don’t know. I just don’t fucking know.
Another step. I break. I collapse around myself, burying my face in my hand, trying to hold all this clenching aching pain in. Fear leaks out of my pores because I know he has won. I’m not a killer. I can’t do it. He wins.
I prepare for death.
I hear another step and another. Something doesn’t sound right. Caden’s steps sound like they are getting further away. It can’t be possible. Caden should have found me. One more step and he would have found me. Why didn’t he find me?
I peer up over the bags, slowly. I see Caden step out from the crate and disappear from view as he moves further into the warehouse. I wipe my eyes to clear my vision. A warm numbing sinks down through my body as I stare at the empty space before me where Caden was just standing. What just happened? I can’t have been this lucky. I can’t. If he took one more step he would have had me. Why didn’t he grab me and drag me out?
Maybe it’s some sort of trick? I stay where I am and wait, trying to calm the beating of my heart.
Some minutes later I hear someone coming closer. I tense as I peer out from my hiding spot. Caden stalks into view, his gun still held at the ready. A feel a stab of fear mixed with an unwanted ache. He’s still my Caden. My beautiful strong Caden.
My heart clenches. No. He’s not mine anymore.
Caden pauses for a moment at the entrance to the crate and glances in. Right at me. I freeze, every cell turning to ice from the inside out. He turns his head
and passes out of view. No. He wasn’t looking right at me. He didn’t even see me. I exhale, causing my body to wither.
“I don’t think she’s in here,” I hear the distant echo of Caden calling.
My eyes close in a brief prayer. I stay where I am, listening. I may just get out of here alive. I may, if I can just keep it together. The other man calls back. I can’t hear what he’s saying. I stare at the space beyond the crate, afraid to even blink, convinced that one of them will come back. The noises of the two men fade until there is only the beating of my heart in my ears.
I’m still a shaking ball of fear inside, but I have to move. I can’t stay here. I have to try for the water. I creep out from my hiding spot towards the entrance of the crate, placing each step carefully, avoiding a bag of coffee fallen across my path. I grip my gun in my hand, the hard steel bringing little relief.
I peer around the edge of the crate, first towards the warehouse entrance, then to the direction of the water. I see no one. I hear no one. A small surge of hope flitters in my insides, which are as cold as a winter storm. I may get out of here alive.
I pause when I see the open bag of coffee on the floor and the spill of powder. Should I take some? As evidence? Should I call the police and tell them about this place? I should. It’s the right thing to do.
Then I laugh into my mouth and it tastes bitter. Yeah right. Like the police would do anything. They’ve probably been paid off to ignore this place. I’ve got to look out for myself. No one else will do it.
I step from the crate, being careful to make no noise, and begin to creep across the warehouse towards the night sky. The stars are my guide. They promise freedom. But it’s so far away. So impossibly far. The crates around me loom up like giants and their shadows fall about like black holes waiting to trap me in their depths.
As I move I have to keep myself from screaming. Please let me get out of here, please. My insides tumble and I just want to let all this fear out, but I can’t, I can’t, I just have to keep going. The hair on my neck stands on end, my skin crawls and I feel like someone’s watching me, someone’s behind me, and I keep turning my head, but they move again behind me, always behind me. Oh God, please just let me get out of here.