by Ashley Jade
I don't know a lot about my brother's boyfriend, but I do know he's a stand-up guy.
However, this is life or death, not giving up the last slice of pizza.
What we think we know about others doesn't mean shit when the stakes are this high.
I'd walk right out that door and never look back if I had the same opportunity.
My eyes fall on Kit again, and the sheer terror I see in those hazel orbs makes something in my chest pull tight.
I have to divert my attention back to Landon because looking at her so scared and fragile is fucking my head up and I can't think straight.
I watch in bewilderment as he pulls out a black bag with the word Police on it from under the table before he locates the bungee cords.
My brain attempts to put some pieces together again, but then Kit chokes out, “Please don't.”
How Kyle snagged himself a police bag is now the least of my worries...because all I care about is doing whatever it takes to keep that sorrow out of her voice.
“I'm not gonna run,” Landon assures her. “I promise.”
I can practically hear her heart beat with every step he takes toward the doors and it strikes me just how brutal this must be for her.
If Landon bolts, Kyle will kill us.
But in Kit's case, it's not just the fear of death that has her panicking.
It's the fear of being abandoned and left to die like her parents were.
Primitively, I take a step in her direction.
“No one move until those doors are secured,” Kyle barks at me. “Then we can get this party started.” His eyes narrow. “Maybe I'll take another bite of a juicy apple off the Holden family tree and make it a real party.”
Rage pumps through my blood and if it wasn't for Landon almost dropping the bungee cords and Kit's loud gasp—reminding me there are other people here with me—I'd lose my shit and do something that would be liable to get us all killed.
Suffice it to say, their reactions tell me they know exactly who Kyle is now.
However, it occurs to me Kyle has no idea who Landon is—because I'm positive if Asher's deranged stalker knew he was my brother's boyfriend...he would have killed him already.
Landon looks spooked; and for a split second, I think he's going to make a run for it.
I keep my eyes trained on him as he finishes securing the doors... until the elevator on the opposite end of the cafeteria chimes.
The heavyset guy holding a camera looks absolutely horrified when the doors open and he sees a man pointing a gun at him.
A millisecond later, Kyle pulls the trigger and fires two bullets into his chest, causing his large body to drop between the elevator doors.
His entire life ended in the blink of an eye.
Kit starts sobbing hysterically and Landon staggers back over to us.
And Kyle, bastard he is, latches an arm around Kit's waist before he proceeds to drag her around the room like a toy.
“Now that that's all taken care of,” he says, fastening his grip on her.
Kit winces through her tears and my blood simmers because he's clutching her so tight there's no doubt he's hurting her.
Abruptly, he stops moving and zeros in on Landon. “You know, I'm not sure what to do with you.” He gestures to me and Kit with the gun in his right hand. “The bestie and the brother are valuable assets in my revenge plan. But you? You serve no purpose, which means you're dead weight in this scenario. Pun intended.”
His statement is so wrong it's almost comical. If he really wanted revenge against my brother and Breslin, Landon would be the perfect way to extract it, given they're both in love with him.
Christ, it's downright bemusing how unaware Kyle is. You'd think someone would have been more diligent and done their homework before going through with something so extreme.
Then again, the emotionally disturbed aren't known for being meticulous.
The gun in Kyle's hand shifts to Landon. “Which means you have to go.”
Fuck, that backfired with a vengeance.
“Wait,” I yell at the same time Kit does.
I need to know his endgame so I can figure out a way to get us out of here alive. “What do you want, Kyle? Tell us and we'll do it.”
“Unless you kill him,” Kit adds jutting her chin at Landon.
Kyle shrugs. “We're all gonna die today anyway. What's a few more minutes.”
As far as responses go, that one has to be the worst.
History has proven assassins and terrorists never fare well...because they always die along with their victims.
Nevertheless, I was hoping Kyle was delusional enough to think he'd end up getting whatever he wanted out of this ordeal. Like Asher telling him he loved him and promising they could live happily ever after, and in turn; he'd set us free.
But the fact that he's already accepted his own death...means we don't have a chance in hell of making it out of this room alive.
I swallow and it feels like acid going down my throat. “What exactly do you want before that happens?”
As usual, the gambler in me can't help but roll the dice.
A smile stretches across Kyle's face. “Call your brother and tell him about the little predicament you’re in. Make sure you put him on speakerphone so I can hear the agony in his voice as he pleads for your life.”
“Okay.” I inhale deeply. “I can do that, no problem. But first, can I ask you for a favor?”
To say he's surprised at my request would be an understatement. “What?”
If my life is about to come to an end...I want to pay my debts.
And I owe Kit far more than I owe anyone else.
Because for a few hours on a bridge one night...I knew what it felt like to have a genuine connection with another person.
And if I died three months ago...I never would have experienced that.
“Let me trade places with her.”
I know Kyle won't let her go, but at least now he won't be hurting her. Or holding a gun to her head.
Kit's glassy eyes widen and I'm not sure what to make of the look on her face.
Not until she gives me that angry scowl...and I bite back a grin.
She wouldn't be scowling if she wasn't angry, and she wouldn't be angry if she didn't care.
Kyle scratches his head with one of the guns, interrupting our little impasse. “Look, I'm not interested in whatever star-crossed lovers shit you two have—”
“We're not lovers,” Kit interjects. “I don't swing that way.”
I smirk—her proclamation affirms I've gotten under her skin too—and her scowl deepens.
Kyle rolls his eyes. “Christ almighty, I don't think you people understand the meaning of the words not interested or dead.” He sighs. “Fine, but no funny business. Make it snappy.”
When he shoves her forward, her eyes cut through me like a hot knife through butter.
“I owed you one,” I mumble as we exchange places.
She starts to respond, but Kyle holds the gun to my head and we start walking backward until we come to a stop near the elevator. “Call Asher.”
I pull out my phone and press the number for his speed dial.
“I was just about to call you,” Asher says through the speakerphone. “Don't go to Woodside today, there's a shooter on campus and the police called—”
My skull practically vibrates when Kyle hits me with the gun, urging me to talk. “Yeah, I know. Because Kyle Sinclair is currently holding me at gunpoint in the cafeteria.” I look at Kit. “Kit's here too and—” I look at Landon who's silently pleading with me not to say his name.
I wasn't planning to, considering Asher's reaction to that news would make Kyle go apeshit and shoot Landon.
I open my mouth to continue talking to Asher, but then Landon does something peculiar.
He subtly rolls the sleeve of his shirt up, almost like he's trying to communicate some secret message to me.
But the only interpretation I can draw
from that action is he's preparing to do some work, which wouldn't make any sense.
Well, either that or he...
Holy fucking jackpot.
Landon has an ace up his sleeve.
“Yeah, that's pretty much the situation right now, brother.”
Asher's breathing turns ragged on the other line before he says, “Kyle, I know you're listening right now. Tell me what you want and I'll make it happen. I'm driving to the campus, I'll be there in less than five minutes. Let Preston and Kit go, they don't deserve this.”
There's muffled crying in the background and a voice that sounds like Breslin's chokes out, “Please, Kyle don't do this. Take me instead.”
“Tell that stupid bitch to shut the fuck up before I make her friend’s murder long and painful instead of quick and painless,” Kyle screams behind me and Kit goes rigid.
“You don't have to kill anyone,” Asher says. “We can work this out, I know we can. Talk to me about what's going on and tell me what you want. I'm listening.”
Kyle laughs maniacally. “You know, I thought killing Breslin would be enough. This way, I could make you both suffer for what you've done. Her for being a dumb trailer whore that took you from me, and you for still being obsessed with a dumb trailer whore when you know how much I love you.”
The irony of him calling someone else obsessed isn't lost on me as he continues, “I hid out in the cafeteria today hoping I'd spot her, because we all know that was Breslin's favorite place to hang out in high school and it was only a matter of time before she'd show up.”
He chuckles. “But then an opportunity presented itself and I thought to myself—Self, there's a better way to make them both pay. I can kill the two people they love the most. This way, you'll both have to live the rest of your lives with the agony of losing someone you love. Then maybe you'll know how I felt, because you'll feel that ache every moment of every day.”
“Kyle,” Asher says calmly. “That doesn't have to happen. I know you're hurting and I know you're upset. I get it. But it doesn't have to be like this, you can still have what you want. I'm standing in the parking lot of my dorm right now. Come and get me. I'm yours.”
“Too late for that now,” Kyle spits. “Do you hear that?”
The sound of sirens in the distance has my heart beating hard in my chest.
We're nearing the end of our rope.
“You had your chance, Asher. I loved you so much, but you blew it. Now it's game over. The only way any of us are coming out is in a body bag.”
Both Asher and Breslin start begging for our lives, which only makes Kyle even more irate and he begins shouting all sorts of vile things to them.
Jesus, this guy has so much rage, so much venom inside him.
Blood whooshes in my ears and the pain that slams into my rib cage is sharp and searing as I recall what I overheard Asher tell the police.
I know exactly why Kyle is the way he is.
The knowledge sits like the weight of a thousand bricks on my chest.
I look at Kit who's so distraught she's no longer paying attention to anything around her, and then at Landon who's focused on Kyle.
I once read some safety article that said if you were ever held hostage you should keep telling your assailant your name and some other things about yourself...because it forces them to acknowledge you're a person and not their pawn.
And while I don't think rambling off a bunch of fun facts will help any of us because Kyle's too far gone, and it will only make him angrier; I do think there's something I can tell him that he might identify with.
But that would require disclosing the one thing I'd rather die than ever tell another soul about. Literally.
My shoulders slump in defeat, because even if it meant saving my life...I can't do it.
The only thing I can do is hope that whatever Landon has up his sleeve will work.
It's probably the only time in my life that I wish I didn't have hope.
Because hope isn't solid, concrete, or tangible.
It's nothing more than an illusion we believe in because we hate our reality.
The goddamn irony of it all.
I walked into this cafeteria today with a heart full of hope and determination, even after my life went to shit...hoping to convince a girl who detests me to take a chance on whatever this thing was between us...whatever she was willing to give me.
But I got far more than I bargained for because it turns out that hope—the magical entity that always lingered deep in my soul, despite all the pain...can be fatal.
Kit Bishop. Her name carries a weight that wasn't there before.
She's the girl responsible for the reason I'm here, and the reason I'm going to die here.
I should hate her for this. Part of me wants to. But it's my fault for letting her impact me in the first place.
Landon's gaze locks with mine again and he turns his head to the left...silently motioning to the elevator that's a few feet away.
The one being held open by a corpse.
I'm pretty sure he's trying to insinuate the elevator is a good way to escape, given the cafeteria doors are all tied with bungees.
I raise an eyebrow at him. Although he's not wrong, I think he's failed to realize Kyle would shoot us before we'd ever make it inside.
It isn't until he looks at Kit who's still a shaking, sobbing mess—then at me again—before his eyes rest on the phone I'm holding up for Kyle...that I connect the dots.
It might work if Kyle was distracted. But the only way he would be distracted is if one of us attacked him, giving the other two a chance to run.
And the look in Landon's eyes tells me he's already stepped up to the plate.
I shake my head. That's not a motherfucking option. We're all in this together.
He narrows his eyes, but pink hair in my peripheral vision claims my attention.
Kit.
I don't want her to die.
I don't want Landon to die, either, but if I have to choose...
I choose her.
I choose us.
Fuck. My brother's never going to forgive me for this, but it's the only option.
Kyle's not going to spare our lives. Our death warrants were signed, sealed, and delivered the moment he stepped foot inside this cafeteria with a gun.
It's up to us to change our fate.
I take a deep breath and give Landon one final look. We have one chance at this, and our best course of action is to act now while Kyle's still preoccupied on the phone.
I don't want my brother to hear what's about to happen, so I slide my finger over the end call button...right before I drop it.
“Pick that up,” Kyle barks, like I hoped he would.
As I sink down to my haunches, I say a silent prayer that Landon knows how to throw a punch, and Kyle doesn't pull the trigger.
Everything happens so fast, it's all a big blur as Landon charges for Kyle and I maneuver away and run straight for Kit.
I hear Kyle howl in pain behind me, but it becomes background noise as I wrap my arm around Kit and proceed to drag her, kicking and screaming, toward the elevator.
My blood turns to ice and my heart pounds out of my chest when a bullet whizzes by my head.
She's still fighting me, so I have no choice but to pick her up and force her through the gap in the doors.
“Landon,” Kit cries out as I shove the dead body that's in my way to the side and step in.
The last thing I see right before the doors close is what appears to be an insulin needle stuck in Kyle's eye.
I start to smile because that was a bad ass move, but then Kit dives for the button panel like a lunatic. “Get out of the way, asshole. I'm not leaving him.”
I push her back. Landon's sacrifice won't mean a damn thing if those doors open and Kyle kills us too. “Are you out of your fucking—”
I'm cut off by the sound of bullets firing in rapid succession.
There are only four buttons on this piece
of shit, including the emergency stop button, so I press the only one I can...the one for the floor above us.
“What's upstairs?”
Generally speaking, if there's an elevator, then there are stairs leading to the same destination.
I don't get a response from her, but it doesn't matter. We won't be getting off until I know it's safe. And since I'm almost positive Kyle's the last man standing, that won't be for a while.
I slam the stop button when we're between floors...and that's when a fist goes sailing into my jaw.
I'm too flummoxed to speak. I know she's upset, I get it. I don't like what happened to Landon either. But I don't understand why she's treating me like I'm some kind of villain.
If anything, I'm her hero. I was the one who tossed her ass in this elevator, despite her kicking and screaming.
“We have to help him!” She shoves me and when I don't budge, she pounces for the panel again. “I can't let him die. He's my friend.”
I place my hands on her waist, holding her in place. “Stop.”
She tries to knee me in the balls, but I twist before she can make contact. “Calm the fuck down, Bishop.”
“How could you do that to him?”
My heart tugs and I know the guilt I feel is something I'll carry around forever. “There was no other choice.”
“There's always a choice.” She points to herself. “I'm not the kind of person who leaves someone to die. I'm not—”
She collapses in my arms and sorrow wraps around me like one big cloak of grief.
God, my heart is so heavy. So heavy for what happened to Landon. The choice I was forced to make. So heavy for how it will destroy my brother. How it's already destroying Kit and making her relive what happened to her parents.
The worst part is, there's no way I can fix this. I can't lie and reassure her everything will be okay. I can't turn back time and refuse to go along with Landon's plan.
The only thing I can do is hold her as she falls apart. “I'm so—”
I don't have a chance to finish that sentence because she reaches around me and hits the button, causing the elevator to jolt back to life.
I don't know whether to be impressed or pissed.
I'll go with pissed. Pissed will keep us alive.
I punch the button and it shakes to a stop...and then I do the only thing I can do. For her safety and mine.