by Zoey Parker
My eyes widened in shock. What?
“What…what are you talking about?” I couldn’t make sense of what he was saying.
“I’m saying,” he said impatiently, sounding almost annoyed with me, “that once Nikolai kills your brother, he’s going to kill you, too.”
I couldn’t believe it. I sat there staring at him, shock making me still even as my mind raced. Would Nikolai do that? No, was my immediate answer. Of course he wouldn’t. In fact, he had said earlier that I was his—he wouldn’t kill someone he believed belonged to him, would he? I didn’t think so, but then, I had told him that the baby wasn’t his. Was that enough to push him over the edge and decide I was better off dead?
A shudder raced through me.
Shawn got up from the bed and began moving around my room quickly. His eyes were wild with fright as he grabbed my suitcase from under my bed. He didn’t even look over at me as he began to grab random things out of my closet—dresses, pants, t-shirts, it didn’t matter, they all went in the same—as he said, “We’ve got to get out of here before he comes back.” He moved to my dresser and began riffling through my panties. I would have been offended, outraged even, except he wasn’t even seeing what he was doing. He was moving automatically, flinching at every sound, glancing over his shoulder in paranoia over and over again, as though expecting Nikolai to appear out of nowhere like a ghost or a vampire.
I didn’t want to believe Nikolai would harm me. I didn’t believe it, but seeing Shawn so afraid…well, that didn’t come from nowhere. And the bruises…Worst of all, I already knew for certain that Shawn was right about at least one thing: Nikolai was trying to kill Logan. That fact and Shawn’s fear leant him some credibility, not to mention the fact that we’d been friends for ages.
So I got myself out of bed and helped him pack. I threw on some clothes—I closed the curtain and made Shawn wait on the other side of it—and then together we made for the door. Part of me felt the sense that I was doing something reckless, probably stupid, but I couldn’t say why. In that moment, it was the only option that still made sense.
What else could I do?
We got into his car and Shawn drove. He took the first ramp onto the highway and drove east. I didn’t know the area well enough to know exactly where we were going. Though I’d been in the city for a while, mostly I just went to the college, a few coffee shops, then back to my apartment.
Turning to Shawn, who was gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles, I asked, “Where are we going?”
He didn’t answer right away, just kept glancing in the rearview mirror as though Nikolai was right on our tail already. After a moment, he said, “A safe place. Somewhere that crazy Nikolai guy won’t come looking for us.”
I frowned and we both fell silent. I still wasn’t sure what to think. Some part of me just couldn’t believe Nikolai would want to kill me.
The rest of me remembered that he was a contract killer. Why wouldn’t he kill me?
Chapter 24
Nikolai
I arrived in Madison just over an hour later. I had to stop for gas, which was as good a time as any to pause for a plan and for an update from Sergei. If I were finally going to nail Logan, I would have to be clever about it. Hopefully, the money would be there in whatever hotel they were staying at—maybe even in the truck, though I wouldn’t count on it; surely even he wasn’t that stupid—but if it weren’t, I was going to have to keep Logan alive long enough to make him talk. Alternatively, if his friend were there with him, this would be easier as I could keep one of them alive while killing the other. People, I had found, were more interested in talking once they were presented with a less appealing option right in front of their faces. Like dying. Seeing someone die sobered people right up.
I pulled into a gas station, set the pump, and pulled out my cell phone. I dialed Sergei and waited only two rings before he picked up.
“Are you there yet?” he asked impatiently, his voice hushed. He wasn’t likely to get caught for giving people information that might kill a man, but you could never be too careful.
“Yes, I just got into town. Is he still moving?”
There was a pause, then, “No. He’s stopped now. I checked it out and got a solid location. It’s some cheap ass motel towards the shoddier side of town. I called over there and they confirmed that there’s a red truck parked outside.”
I nodded to myself. So, he was here. I was so close now. This job should have been simple, a quick game of catch and kill, but over the past couple of months Logan had managed to elude me. Despite being what I considered an idiot, he was just lucky enough—I refused to think he was truly clever enough—to slip my grasp every time.
Well, not this time. Finally, I had my opportunity. I would go to the motel, but lie low. Case the place first. Maybe see if his friend was there. Then I would separate the two. If I could get one of them alone, I could tie him up and kill the other. I doubted there was enough loyalty between the two to threaten one into giving up the money in exchange for a friend’s life. They didn’t seem like the sentimental, bleeding heart types. But if one saw me kill the other, he’d be much more forthcoming. I was sure of it.
“All right,” I finally said as the plan began to solidify in my head. I was a step ahead since they didn’t know I was coming, that I was here. Hell, they didn’t even know that I had a means of finding them. But if I were stupid about this, they’d get skittish and bolt. I had to be careful, clever about the whole thing. I had to be smarter than they were. “I’m going to head over there, see if I can get a good look of the place. Maybe disable the truck before they have a chance to make a break for it.”
Now that I’d thought of it, that sounded like an excellent plan. I was tired of the chase; now, I wanted them finished.
“Watch yourself, Nikolai,” Sergei said cheerfully, but the fact that he told me to be careful at all spoke volumes about how he felt about the whole thing. He was feeling a little apprehensive, which was odd.
“Is there something else?” I prompted. It was unlike Sergei to be nervous.
He hesitated, but then told me, “I can’t guarantee that the partner was in the truck, you know? Or that either of them’s in the truck, honestly. Could be a plant, a set up. I know you’ve been having trouble with these guys and, well, maybe they’re smarter than we give them credit for.”
I doubted it. Sincerely doubted it. Yes, this job had been somewhat difficult, but that was because these rats were good at hiding and had miraculously good luck on their side. It didn’t mean that they were smart, only that at some point along the way they’d earned some karma points.
Not enough to save them, I thought.
Even so, I respected Sergei and his opinion. If he felt something seemed off about what was going on, the situation, then I was willing to think it through. Pausing, I considered what could go wrong.
They could know I was coming. This was pretty unlikely given that it would mean someone loyal to Zackary would have to know about Sergei—which was admittedly possible—and then they’d have to betray Zackary by telling one of these idiots. That was so impossible that it might as well be a nonexistent possibility altogether.
They could be prepared for the possibility of me coming. This was a little bit more likely. Maybe they were finally using an ounce of their brain, deciding that since I’d clearly found them once, I had the capabilities to find them again. So, while they had no proof that I might be there, they knew that there was a chance I could be. That was how I would think about things, though I considered myself far smarter than this Logan guy. His sister—my sweet, pregnant, sexy Madeline—seemed to have inherited all the brains in her family. Still, even if they did know, I didn’t think it was a problem. So long as I was cautious, maybe waiting until dark? Parking around in the back? Maybe even parking in the woods somewhere and walking the rest of the way to the hotel. No matter which way I chose, I could be cautious enough to throw them.
Beyond that, I co
uldn’t come up with a reasonable scenario in which these men might put me in serious danger. I just couldn’t see them getting the drop on me, so I told Sergei, “Don’t worry. I’ve got it covered.”
“All right. Well, if you don’t need anything else from me, I actually do have work to do.”
I rolled my eyes just as the gas finished pumping into my car. Vaguely, I found myself wishing I had a truck. That would make things simpler out here in a place that was far less cultivated than a city. “Yes, sure, you get back to stacking sticky notes and balancing paperclips at that desk job of yours.”
“Hey! Don’t knock the importance of balancing paperclips. It’s all about making sure the world keeps on turning.”
“Goodbye, Sergei. And thank you for your help.”
“Best of luck, Nicky, dearest.”
With that, he hung up before I got the chance to chew his ass for calling me Nicky. I hated that. Hanging up the pump again, I replaced the gas cap and got back behind the wheel. For just a moment longer, I paused. My phone beeped, informing me that I had a message. Sergei had texted me the details of the motel. It was called the Market Town Inn and after a quick search, I found even the best pictures of it revealed something that looked just shy of being condemned.
Not where I would stay, on the run or not, I thought. But they weren’t me and it seemed like they were trying to save on money, which seemed odd given they’d stolen so much. Or maybe they really were trying to be smart and attempting to lay low.
I doubted it. If anything, it was out of habit.
I started the car and took off, heading down the bumpy, poorly maintained road with thick trees lined the sides of it. It took me maybe another ten or fifteen minutes before I came upon the motel. It was in pretty rough shape, worse even than the pictures, but I noticed a shiny red truck parked outside of it and knew I had reached the correct location.
Taking precautions as Sergei suggested, I went past the motel and found a boarded-up building just a half a mile up the road. Not far at all. It looked like it might have been some sort of market at some point, but was long since closed down. It looked half rotted at this point and I wondered if there was a damn thing in Madison that wasn’t grungy and falling apart. Probably not.
Parking my car behind the building for some cover and as close to the trees as possible, I got out. I checked my gun—loaded, safety off—then replaced it into my shoulder holster. From there, I walked.
It took me another ten or fifteen minutes to walk back to the motel, mostly because I was picking my way through the trees lining the road, hoping to stay at least half hidden. If I were lucky, no one would even notice me. When I finally broke through to find the motel and the red truck in front of it, I felt relieved. I’d been worried that he would be gone again before I returned.
But no, the truck was still there. My eyes scanned the area, searching for the owner of said truck, but the place seemed practically deserted. There was one other car in the entire lot, and it looked like it belonged to whoever was manning the front desk rather than another customer.
Eventually, my gaze landed on the truck again. No movement. It seemed empty. The thought crossed my mind that Logan could be crouched down, hiding there instead of in whatever room he’d booked for the night. But I dismissed it right away. Not a chance.
Deciding to go in for a closer look, I walked up to the truck. When I was close enough to see inside the window, I frowned. Definitely no one in there. The truck was a mess. While it was still shiny on the outside, though dented, there was trash littered everywhere: old wrappers from fast food sandwiches, the bags they came in, empty drink cups. It looked like someone had gotten into a bag of sunflower seeds and just spit them out again all over the floorboards and across the seats. In a word, it was disgusting.
But that really wasn’t important to me, regardless of my personal opinions on the matter. What mattered was that the truck was empty. My eyes narrowed. Empty, but the keys were still right there, hanging from the ignition.
What kind of idiot leaves the keys in the ignition with no one in the truck? I thought to myself.
My opinion of Logan and his crackerjack friend was dropping even lower. I sighed. Surely, if the keys were in there, then the money was not. I was about to go into the lobby and talk to whatever poor soul was stuck behind the front desk when a thought finally occurred to me. It was enough to make me freeze right there in my tracks.
No one leaves the keys in the car of their vehicle, especially when it’s such an important means of escape. When you’re on the run, that vehicle is your only means of surviving. Even these two knuckleheads couldn’t be that stupid.
So why would they be there?
“If they were about to leave when I showed up,” I muttered out loud.
Taking shallow breaths and straining my ears, I listened to the sounds around me. It was quiet. The road was right there, but this town seemed pretty dead for the most part and I was fairly certain at this point that there just wasn’t much traffic. From the woods, I heard the chirping sounds of birds and crickets. It was all very quiet and yet…not right.
The hairs on the back of my neck began to prickle as I sensed, more than saw, that something was out of place. I wasn’t sure what it was, until he came at me from behind.
A heavy weight barreled into me as two long, gangly arms wrapped around my upper arms to keep me from immediately using them to fight back. Though thin, the arms were surprisingly strong, the muscles lean, but powerful.
He took me to the ground, the heavy weight that I now knew was a man on top of me. I struggled, but just as I managed to shift him to the side, rolling us both over, he began to beat me about the head and shoulders. His fists weren’t as accurate as they might have been, but in his frantic flailing there was power. I felt his hand connect with my jaw, leaving what was sure to be a bruise later and causing my lip to split open. Instantly, I tasted coppery blood.
It was difficult given my position on the ground with him on my back, but I found a way to take a swing at him. It connected with his shoulder and he let out a grunt, but I couldn’t get a good shot at his face. In fact, I couldn’t even make out his face. I struggled, trying to push him off, lifting and flexing my shoulders in an attempt to break his hold on me, but he held on doggedly. It was as though he sensed that his life hung in the balance. If he let me go, he was a dead man.
Forcing us to roll, so I could get him on his back, I tried again to break free, this time elbowing him hard in the ribs. He let out a harsh whoosh of air as my elbow made contact and it was enough for me to jerk free of his hold. I might have had enough time to pull my gun, or at the very least round on him and get a good hit in to his face, but he was ready for me. He swung his leg out, catching me at the knees and causing me to buckle back to the ground unexpectedly. I used my hands to catch my weight, but the pause was enough time to let him up. I saw his brown, scuffed work boots right as they came at my face.
They crunched against my nose. My eyesight grew dark around the edges as I struggled for consciousness and breath, but it was useless. My head snapped back from the force of the blow and I fell to the ground once more. I didn’t know who my assailant was, but I could guess. And if I was right, then this was it. My last moments. I was dead.
As I drifted away to darkness, I had a strange, errant thought. It was of Madeline, smiling at me, biting her lip, opening herself up for me. It was of her hands on her bare stomach as she smiled shyly.
I wish I could see my baby born before dying.
And then, I was gone.
Chapter 25
Madeline
We drove for a long while, through the rest of the very early morning and then later still. At first, I thought Shawn had a really good idea of where he was going. Like he already had a destination in mind, but after I was really awake, I started paying attention to signs. We’d stay on the interstate for a while only to get off downtown. Then we’d drive in and out of the streets there before taking
the next exit once more onto the freeway. After a couple of hours, I was beginning to realize he was just driving blindly.
Every so often, we would stop for gas, which was good. Morning sickness had made my stomach queasy, and I needed to use the restroom to throw up at least four or five different times. It also gave me the chance to have a moment’s privacy.
Maybe it was just paranoia after everything that was happening and going on in my life, or maybe it was the hormones from the pregnancy, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that Shawn was being…weird. Yes, scared of Nikolai and what was going on with Logan, but it was something more, too. Something I’d actually begun to notice before all of this mess had begun.
Shawn had been my best friend for practically our whole lives. He was the shoulder to cry on, the buddy to hang out with, the guy who wasn’t just a jerk, but understanding and sympathetic. I’d never known him to be mean, but lately things seemed to have somehow shifted. He was on edge more often, like something serious was on his mind, but I just couldn’t figure out what and he didn’t want to tell me. He seemed more likely to get annoyed with me, to snap even, something he’d never done before. I wondered if maybe it was the city making him all weird, but that didn’t seem right. The other day, when he confessed that he was in love with me, I started to think that maybe it was that. Maybe he was just tired of being ignored as a viable option romantically?