by J. A. Huss
I clench my fists as the anger runs through me. But the anticipation is there too. I will end him today. Nothing else matters. Garrett is a dead man.
“In the end it all comes down to what you’re capable of. Rescue means debt. Save yourself and you owe no one.”
– Sydney
I don’t wait for Case to leave. The drugs are taking over and if he comes back to find me rifling through his medications and puts a stop to it, well, that’s the chance I have to take. Because I have about two minutes before I pass out for good and either way I’m dead.
I roll across the bed one more time and reach for the drawer in the nightstand. My hand misses it a few times, but finally I hook a fingertip through the pull and it slides open.
Downstairs a door closes with a slam.
My hand waves around inside the drawer for the first-aid kit and I’m just about to get frustrated when it hits me.
He took it downstairs to bandage my hand.
Fuck. Sixty-seven thousand fucks are running through my head right now. Do I not deserve to catch one break? One?
I roll over again and fall to the floor. I don’t know if I can make it downstairs—
“Syd,” beautiful Garrett says.
Is he Garrett or Case? Who is the man in my head?
“Grab the guns,” he says, the beautiful mountain landscape behind him shimmering. Aspen leaves, yellow, like it’s fall. No, golden. Everything about this dream man is golden.
“Grab his guns, Syd. The ones in the case. Then go downstairs and find the kit. You know what to do. They told you about overdosing in your training.”
I don’t care who that guy is at this point, I’m taking his advice. I grab the gun case and pull myself up. There’s furniture I can lean on to make my way to the door. But as I stand at the top of the hardwood stairs, I have serious doubts I will be able to get down them without breaking my neck.
Sit on your ass and scoot, that guy says, whoever he is.
I plop down and fall forward, my head hitting the banister with a crack. There’s no pain. I’m far too numb from the drugs to even know how badly I’m hurt. I grab hold of the banister and pull myself up again, then scoot down one step at a time. When I finally get to the bottom step I let out an ironic laugh. I got all this way—I can see the kit on the kitchen counter—and I’m gonna die here on the steps. Or maybe reaching for the kit, my hand outstretched—
Shut the fuck up and get over there!
That guy in my head is the one who needs to shut the fuck up, that’s what I think. In fact—I force my legs to stand. My eyes are almost closed, that’s how sleepy I am—I think I’m gonna kill that guy in my head with these guns…
Shit. The guns are up on the steps where I fell over.
I shake my head to try to snap out of the growing lethargy and drop to my hands and knees so I can crawl. My hair drags on the polished wood floor and I have a moment of relief that Case is so neat. No dust bunnies on his floor to soil my hair.
A laugh bursts out at that thought. I’m really fucking losing it.
I make to the bar and stand up. If I open that kit and there’s no antagonist in there to stop this drug, I will die laughing.
It’s in there, a little vial of clear liquid in a tightly sealed container. I rip the metal tab with my teeth, twisting the bottle, peeling it off. And then I rip open a sealed sterile syringe and push the needle into the rubber cap.
Poison training? I took that, right? Garrett told me how much of the drug to use for my body weight when we went over poisoning. I know he did.
But I have no clue. My arms are so heavy. My fingers barely work. So I draw in enough liquid to fill the syringe, pull it out of the rubber top, and stab myself in the upper arm.
I don’t feel a thing. Not the stab, not when I push the drug into the muscle, not when I fall over and barely avoid cracking my head on the floor as I hit the ground palms first. But I do know I’m still in the game if this works, because a snow machine roars past the house outside. He just left.
I come to screaming as I sit up straight. My lungs inhale a huge breath, a gasp that echoes up into the cathedral ceiling of the house. I am instantly alert and the past few hours come rushing back.
Case. That motherfucker.
Sasha.
Garrett.
I run up the stairs and get the gun case, opening it up there on the landing where it fell.
Three bullets. What fucking good are three fucking bullets? I run back in the bedroom and open the other nightstand drawer. But of course the other guns are gone. He took those and left these collector’s items behind with three stupid bullets.
I smile. I guess that just means there’s one for each of those assholes, and none left over to spare.
I load one bullet into the chamber of the first gun, and two into the magazine of the other. I dress in my snow gear and stuff the guns in my pockets as I head out into the cold. I reconnect the wires that I pulled out on the Snowcat to buy myself some time the other night when Case told me to leave, and follow his tracks down the trail.
“Even a man with nothing to lose can lose things.”
– Case
I cut the engine on the machine at the fork in the trail and haul my sniper rifle over my shoulder as I trudge through the snow. It’s a decision that will cost me some time—the snow is deep and I have to wind my way between drifts to make any progress at all. But this party only starts when I get there.
I’m the guest of honor.
The garage where I keep the trucks in the winter comes into view sooner than I’m ready for it. My heart—fuck, my heart has never been filled with such dread before in my life. I should’ve known it was Sasha he was after. I should’ve seen that coming.
But she’s been well-hidden over the years. Living out a quiet life in private schools and summers overseas with her adopted family. Good grades and dreams of the future driving her instead of looking over her shoulder. She’s had some trouble, but none of it was Company trouble.
Hell, even I stopped looking over my shoulder. It’s my own damn fault I’ve been up here preoccupied with his bait while he was planning how to get the only person I ever loved.
I walk slowly and carefully up to the back of the garage, my eyes darting up to the trees in case he came with a sniper.
But that’s not Garrett’s style. He works alone now and he uses women to do his dirty work. He’s always been like that.
He’s starting to remind me a little too much of myself.
I press my back against the garage and then peek around the corner, my rifle in the ready position, my eye looking down the sight.
A big, black truck idles in the center of the cul-de-sac. It’s pointing away from me, like it’s getting ready to leave. Black smoke puffs out of the tailpipe, clashing with the pristine white snow that surrounds it. It’s angled in a way that gives me a clear view of the passenger side, but not the driver’s.
Sasha is in the front seat. I know her profile. Her dark blonde hair is recognizable to me anywhere. I could pick her out of a crowd of hundreds of people.
It hits me then. He has my Sasha. He’s gonna kill her. Right here. Right now. And he’s gonna make me watch.
A sound disrupts my thoughts and then her door swings open.
I look through my scope to find him. Where are you, motherfucker?
Sasha is pushed through the door and falls out of the truck like a dead body. Her hands are tied behind her back, her feet are tied together, and there’s tape over her mouth.
My heart stops. And then she starts kicking her legs and trying to scream. And it starts again.
She’s alive.
“If you hurt her I will rip your goddamn throat out!” I roar it so the whole forest echoes with my threat.
Silence. And then the creak of the other door. He ducks getting out or I’d have his head already. But he knows me. I have skills he does not. Fucking punk.
“Did you hurt my Sydney, Case? Or don’t my girls
matter?”
“Fuck you.” I duck back behind the garage and stalk the length of it, peeking out around the corner again and then making my way to the opposite side. Now I can see the truck a little better. More front on, but still, no Garrett in my sight.
“How about we play a game, Case? You tell me what you did to Sydney and I’ll tell you if I did the same thing to Sasha.”
All the things I put Sydney through flash into my mind.
“Drugs? Oh, that one’s a given. Sasha here might be a good shot, but she’s not been subjected to very many drugs, has she. It didn’t go well.”
My whole body heats up with rage.
“Torture?” he calls again. “Sydney is quite good at withstanding torture. But again, this one—not so much.”
“What do you want?”
“I want my girl back.”
“She’s at the house. Go get her.”
“Not that girl, Case.” He laughs. “You know how we have that whole I owe you, you owe me, and then we’re even thing going in the Company? Well, you owe me, Case. And today we’re gonna make it even.”
“There will be a day of reckoning. I call it a reality check”
– Sydney
The snow machine in the middle of the trail has me hyperventilating for a second before I figure out he ditched it to get the element of surprise on Garrett.
I ditch the Cat as well and make a run for it, following in Case’s footsteps. A half an hour ago I’d have bet a billion dollars that I could not make a run for my life through deep snow. But that was before the antagonist cleared out all the drugs in my system and made me into a new woman.
I feel like I can run forever. But I know it will wear off, probably soon, so I use up all the extra adrenaline while I still have it. A building peeks out from between the thick cover of pine trees, and the trail winds around a little more. I cut through the woods to save time.
Case’s booming voice stops me dead in my tracks.
They’re out there. Both of them. And Sasha.
I really don’t know what’s going on. A few bits and pieces have come back to me since I left the cabin. But nothing makes much sense. Garrett sent me here, I realize that now. But the gaps are still too wide and the images firing off in my head are blurry one moment, clear the next.
And Case. I don’t want to believe it’s true. I’ve held him up on some imaginary pedestal for so long, his final words undo me. He lied. I get it. He drugged me and used sex and longing to get what he needed from me.
But it felt so real. That’s what hurts the most. The shame I feel because I fell for it. How he must be laughing at me now. I have to stop in my tracks and clutch the trunk of a tree as I bend over. The sick feeling in my stomach is back, but what it means, I just don’t know.
Garrett’s black truck comes into view just as he calls out, “You owe me, Case. And today we’re gonna make it even.”
I pan the area. It’s like a cul-de-sac with the garage at the head. No other houses are out here so it must be on a private road. Garrett’s truck is in the middle, slanted at an angle, giving me a good view of the passenger side. But I don’t see him.
“What do you want to make it even?” Case yells back.
My attention snaps to my right. Case is not far from me. Maybe twenty or thirty feet.
“Oh, we are not to negotiations yet, friend.” Garrett laughs. I know he’s crouching down on the other side of the truck, out of view of Case’s sniper scope. Garrett’s told me stories of the Company assassins. Ruthless men. Inhuman. And extremely bent on finishing the job once they start.
What is Case’s job here?
Jesus, Sydney. You really are dumb.
I pull myself together and take my attention back to Garrett. He’s still hiding behind the truck, playing it safe. “Don’t you want to know how poor Sasha has fared since her captivity?” he yells. “Let’s compare prisoners, shall we Case? You fucked Sydney, right? I mean, that was in the plan, so I know for sure you did.”
And there it is. I am nothing but Case’s job and Garrett’s plan.
“If you raped Sasha,” Case growls, “I will string you up from a tree and let the wolves eat you alive.”
“Semantics, Case. I gave you Sydney to play with. You’ve had her for weeks. I’ve only had Sasha a day.” Garrett laughs. “She can fill you in later if you save her. We’ll see how that goes. So don’t get on your high horse about what I did to Sasha. Sydney didn’t exactly want to let you take her v-card. But in the end, she gave in. Because if there’s one thing that Sydney is that Sasha is not, it’s malleable. She bends. This one here, not very bendy. She’s a fighter, huh, Case? Did you teach her that? Or her father? Did you know I planned that whole night? Hell, did you know I’ve been planning your demise since the day you shot my girl?”
“She wasn’t your girl.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s right. You wanted her too. But instead of accepting the fact that she was mine, you decided to kill her.”
Silence from Case. I have never heard this story. Even though my head is every sort of fucked up from all the lies and manipulation, I know I’ve never heard this story.
Case steps out into the open, his rifle in front of him, like an offering.
Garrett peeks up over the top of the truck and he smiles as he walks around the front end.
Sasha is lying on the ground in a tied-up heap. She has no coat on and it’s freezing out here. No gloves. Her face looks half frozen already, since it’s planted firmly in the snow. Her eyes are wild when she sees Case, and she starts kicking her feet.
“Let her go, Garrett. She has nothing to do with any of that.” Case’s voice is steady but low. Like he’s raging inside and one wrong move will set him off.
“Oh,” Garrett laughs. He’s dressed in top-to-bottom white snow gear, just like me. I feel like we’re a team just looking at us. It makes me sick. “You killed my girl, Case.” He removes a gun from his pants and points it at Sasha’s head. Case readies his rifle again. “We were soldiers. We follow orders.”
“She was twelve fucking years old!”
“Just like Sasha. Is that why you really saved her that night, Case? Sydney told me under the drugs what you said to her that night. You’d be back? That’s what you told her?” Garrett laughs. “You set this whole thing up. It was the perfect opening. A path to revenge.”
“I undid Sydney,” Case says.
“You sure did,” Garrett snarls. “You did it just right, Case. Fucked her up even more than I could ever hope, I’m sure. You’re the best, huh? I always knew you’d come through.”
Listening to these two men talk about me like I’m a thing is the most degrading moment of my life. Worse than Case fucking the virgin out of me. Worse than being drugged and manipulated by Garrett to do his bidding. I’m not even a person in their eyes.
“Our orders, Case, were to kill the mother and take the daughter to make an example of them. I did my part—”
“You raped that woman. Tied her up in a shed and kept her for days before you killed her.”
“—your part was to hand the daughter over to me.”
“I asked her whether she wanted to go with you or die. She chose death, Garrett. She would rather die than be with you. That’s why I killed her.”
Garrett shakes his head slowly and with a disgusting smile on his face. “I think you really believe you did the right thing back then. I really do, Case. So let’s see if you can do the right thing again today. Your choice back then was to let me have her or kill her. So your choice today is…” He stops to huff out a laugh and a shiver runs down my spine. Because I already know what he’s gonna say. “Kill her”—he nods to Sasha—“or let me take her away. Alive.”
“Or,” Case says, his voice still that low rumble that’s just on the verge of wild, “I kill you and she leaves with me. Alive.”
“That will never happen, Merc.” Garrett uses his trade name like they are friends, and it makes Case stiffen, as I’m sure it
was intended.
“How do you figure?”
And then Garrett looks straight at me and stretches out his arm. He points to me, beckoning.
Case backs up, his rifle still trained on Garrett, and realizes I’m still in the game.
“Because the acorn never falls far from the tree.”
“Sometimes all you can do is fire that gun and pray your aim is true.”
– Sydney
My whole world spins as those words echo through my head.
The acorn never falls far from the tree.
My two guns are in my hand before I even realize I’ve pulled them out. My feet carry me out towards Garrett and Case. But only one man is being targeted.
Case.
The other gun is aimed at Sasha.
We had my trigger word wrong the whole time. Case never undid me, it was a trap. The whole thing was set up by Garrett to be a trap.
“Sydney,” Case says off to my right. “Sydney, listen to me. Remember when we talked about what he did, Sydney? He brainwashed you. He just triggered you.”
I know this. I know with every fiber of my being that I’m on autopilot. But I can’t stop. I’m not even sure I want to stop. Case ruined my life. I was sixteen years old. The brainwashing had worn off again. It was an opening, a crucial moment in time where things could go either way. Salvation or damnation.
Case chose damnation. He damned me to hell that night. All to save that girl out there in the snow. I was a job and he never finished it. I wasn’t worth it to him. I was nothing to him then and I’m nothing to him now. I lied, Sydney. But if you stay real still and go back to sleep, you’ll never have to think about it again.
“Sydney,” Garrett says, and glances at me for just the splittest of seconds. “If he makes one move towards me—”
Case takes the opportunity and gets off one shot, right through Garrett’s gun hand. Garrett spins as flesh and weapon go flying, drops to the ground, holding his injury as blood spurts out where fingers used to be. He lowers his eyes for a moment and catches his breath. And then he looks up. And the evil in those eyes makes me want to piss myself. “You’re gonna regret that.” His voice is even and steady as ever. “Shoot him, Sydney.”