by A. O. Peart
I looked down at my boots and continued, wanting, for some strange reason, to tell them the rest of the story, “Until this day, I have no idea if they were looking for drugs, and if so, if it was those very drugs that I had stashed in my purse for delivery. Or, if they were after something else altogether. Anyway, I wasn’t interested in finding out firsthand. I was paralyzed with fear, but I had to save myself, so I stood up and, pretending to be extremely uncomfortable and clueless, I told a young cop that my mom was in the bathroom, waiting for me to bring her something. He asked what exactly I had to help my mother with. I told him that she just messaged me from the restroom. I had the cell phone in my hand to prove it, but, in reality, I would be screwed if he actually wanted to see the text for himself. Obviously, there was no text. I then leaned close to his ear and said in a conspiratorial voice that she badly needed a tampon. The guy got hot-red in the face and let me slip past him. I knew there would be cops in the bathroom, so I didn’t even try disposing of the drugs there. Instead, with my head hung low, I slunk outside, crying. More police waited with the service dogs trained on finding the drugs. I covered my face and cried. They asked what was going on and what I was doing there. I told them that someone forced me to hide a package for them and that I am very scared. The rest was easy.”
Ethan’s eyebrows shot up. He looked stunned. I probably messed everything up, and now he thought I wasn’t worth his protection and worry. But that was ten years ago, and I did what I had to in order to survive on my own. At twelve, I had no family, no friends that lived with normal families, and a very slim chance to stay out of juvenile prison.
“So that’s how my life has been for years, until I met professor Tolinski. One day, about two years after the police incident, I was meeting up with a client at the local library. I was fourteen and living with new foster parents. They were older and weird. I never knew if I would have anything to eat, or if I would end up going to bed hungry. I had to continue dealing drugs to make money for my own food and clothes. I hated social workers, and there was no way I would tell them what was really going on. If I did, I would go back to a foster home. And that was worse than living with neglecting foster parents. At least, they left me alone and usually didn’t even care where I was and what I was doing.”
“Who was that professor Tolinski?” Ethan asked.
“A sweet Polish man. He taught chemistry at the USF. He saw me dealing that day at the library. I didn’t know he did, so when he approached me on my way out, I freaked out. But he quickly said he wasn’t trying to get me arrested, nor that he would ask any questions about what I was involved in. He simply offered to buy me a meal at Denny’s down the street. I was so hungry, I could barely walk. He didn’t have to tell me twice that he would pay for all the food I wanted to eat. We went there, we sat down, and I ordered as much as I could stuff in my stomach. Then the ice cream and a warm apple pie with a huge dollop of whipped cream arrived, and I had to hold back the tears.
Nobody has ever done such a wonderful thing for me. Professor offered to pay for my taxi instead of driving me back to my foster home. He said he didn’t want me to think that he was up to something bad, proposing to drive me in his car. That made a lot of sense to me. I would’ve never gotten into a stranger’s car, no matter what.
When I asked him why he even cared, he said that back at the library he saw in my eyes desperation and pain. Professor knew immediately I needed someone to step in and help. He also said that I had that aura of pride and toughness, which told him a lot about my strong personality.
The next day after school, Professor met me again at the library, and we sat down in the far corner, away from any prying ears. That’s how our little friendship has started. He was the only father I knew. He truly cared about me, and never wanted anything in return. A few months later, he asked if it would be okay with me if he adopted me, so we could become a real family.” My voice cracked on the last words, and my vision blurred with tears. I quickly blinked them away.
“Hey,” Ethan moved close and kneeled on one knee in front of me. He put his hand on my arm and gently squeezed. “You had a tough life. I’m glad that man took you under his wing. What ever happened to him?”
I looked at Ethan’s face. There was concern in his eyes. How could he go from totally cold to semi-friendly to worried? Have I mentioned he was a complete enigma to me? Or maybe I’ve only met really simple people in my life so far and I didn’t know any better.
I rubbed the tears from under my eyes with the tips of my fingers and sniffed. “Well, it turned out Professor was very sick. Never told me until one day when he couldn’t go on any longer. It was about two months after my adoption was complete, and I officially became his daughter. I never took his last name though. It just felt weird, as if marrying my old man.” I tried to smile at my sweet memories of Jan Tolinski, but I knew that I only managed a sad grimace. “He was sixty nine when he died. Cancer. I didn’t eat or sleep for three whole days, mourning him. I spent hours, curled up by his grave, holding onto his tombstone, until the social workers came and took me away. Again. I was sixteen then, which meant I had two more years in a foster care until I would be finally considered an adult.”
Jack stood up quietly and walked to the window. He peered between the blinds again, turning his head from side to side, scanning the area outside. The outdoor lights were left on. If someone tried to sneak up close to the cabin, the lights would make it more difficult. Jack turned back to us and exchanged a tiny nod with Ethan.
“Something wrong?” I asked. Maybe we were sitting ducks here, but it was still safer than driving and being chased.
“I’m gonna check outside. Nothing wrong, just a precaution.” Jack went to the front door. Ethan walked after him and locked the door.
I looked at Ethan. He came back to sit by me. His body seemed tense and ready to spring up into action if necessary. But he smiled reassuringly at me and said, “So you stayed in a foster home for a while? I’m impressed you decided to pursue college. Not many people in your situation would do that.”
“Jan… my adoptive dad, made me promise that I would make something out of myself. He wanted me educated and never again on the streets. I owe to him everything good that ever happened in my life. He left me money, his car, and the house. As soon as I turned eighteen, I was able to use it as I pleased. Before he died, Jan hired Jessica Leothon, the attorney to help me with all the necessary legal stuff.”
“That’s the lawyer you called?”
“Yes, she’s been always helpful. So when all this mess with the gang started, she was the lifesaver.”
“What will you do when this is all over?” he asked.
“If I get out alive of this mess, I’ll go back to Florida, I suppose. To finish college. I still have Jan’s house. It’s been locked up and sealed by the FBI though, more for my own protection than anything else, I think.”
Ethan pursed his lips and looked away. He nodded a few times, stood up, and said, “Stay here. I’m gonna see what’s taking Jack so long.”
And that’s when I got scared. Really scared. I didn’t know why exactly, but there was something ominous in the air; something dark and dangerous. I grabbed Ethan’s wrist. “They found us, right? They’re here?”
A muscle in his jaw jumped, and his eyes flicked to the front door. “I don’t know. But let’s be smart about this. Here’s Jack’s other gun.” He opened a small drawer in the built-in cabinet by the fireplace and pulled out another 9 mm. “You know how to use it? Here’s the safety button.” He pointed.
“Yes, don’t worry, I can manage,” I tried to sound braver than I felt.
He took some handcuffs and something else out of that drawer. He saw me eyeing it curiously and said, “Jack brought a few necessities with him. These are night vision goggles. He’s got a pair too.”
Ethan turned the gun around, holding it by the barrel so the muzzle faced him, and offered it to me. “This is Magnum MR9, a good, reliable pistol. Hold
it and tell me how it feels.”
I gripped it with confidence. “It feels right; like it belongs in my hand.” I removed the magazine. It dropped down onto my waiting hand. It was fully loaded. “What it is? Ten? Fifteen rounds?”
“Fifteen, plus an extra clip.” He shoved a spare magazine at me. “Keep it in your pocket.”
I did as told. I put the other magazine back in.
“Lisbeth, don’t be a brave heroine, okay?”
“What does that even mean?” I scoffed.
“Don’t go Rambo out there.” He grinned, but then the smile disappeared from his face. “Hide, stay down, and don’t go looking for trouble. Shoot only if you need to protect yourself—three bullets to the heart, bam bam bam.”
“Got it.” I slid the gun into my pants pocket.
He shook his head and sighed. “I can’t believe I’m instructing you on this.”
“Ethan… thanks.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him tight.
He stiffened for a moment, but then he pressed me to him. It was a fierce hug, as if he let go of some thick barrier. I sensed his desperation, but I didn’t completely understand it. Maybe with time, I would. If we had any time to explore that…
Chapter Twenty Six
ETHAN
I walked to the front door and very slowly opened it a notch, peering outside through the crack. Jack wasn’t there. I closed the door, moved to the garage, and took my radio out of my pocket. “Jack.”
He answered right away in a low voice, “Nothing yet. That fucking party boat is getting on my nerves.”
“They should shut up soon or the neighbors will call the cops on them,” I said. “I’m coming out. Where are you?”
“In the back.”
“Okay, bro. Over.” I put the radio back in my pocket, took the gun out, and released the safety. It was ready; just needed to be cocked. I was ready too.
I opened the side garage door and carefully checked the perimeter. Stooping, I went outside and plastered my back to the wall. My eyes were focused on the surroundings, and my ears trained on any sound that wasn’t coming from the party boats. All seemed ordinary out there, but I wasn’t letting my guard down.
With my gun at the ready, I crouch-walked toward the front of the cabin. I peeked from behind the corner of the building. The driveway was well lit, but the woods past it were damn dark. There could be a dozen guns trained on me now. But I wouldn’t kill the lights, because that would make it too convenient for anyone to sneak up and deposit loads of explosives by the cabin. There was no perfect option then. I had to work with what was given to me.
Jack was in the back, keeping his eye on the water access and the woods on both sides of the cabin. I had to stay hidden by the wall and observe the front and as much of the woods from this side as I could see. That left us with one blind spot—the woods by the front corner of the cabin opposite to the one that I crouched by. I took my radio out and very quietly told Jack about that plan. He said he would move a few feet to the left to widen the angle of his vision.
Now, we had the perimeter covered much better, but the damn cabin was way too large. I knew we could be easily surprised. Although, if we were lucky, nobody knew about Lisbeth and me leaving, and so the gang’s focus was still on my cabin. If they were even notified by their assumed FBI informer. I would be pissed of course if the cabin got damaged, but I had a good insurance coverage and enough money in the bank to have it taken care of. Unless, it got blown into pieces, which, based on the gang’s previous performance, was a possibility. That would suck balls.
On the other hand, if anything happened to Ryley’s cabin, Jack and I were in hot water. Ryley wasn’t easy to deal with, and he sure as hell would enjoy making our lives miserable. Either way, I was screwed, but that wouldn’t stop me from protecting Lisbeth.
The earlier gentle breeze changed to a much stronger wind. I looked at the sky. It was dark; no stars. The air was still warm, despite the wind. It smelled of fresh sap, the pine trees, and something pungent.
A loud, high-pitched whistling sound, a pop, and then bright light behind me made me jump. The sky was lit with fireworks. The idiots on the party boats were bent on a big ass celebration. These fireworks weren’t the puny ones designed for the general public use, but the heavy-duty stuff, most likely obtained from a reservation. The fireman in me cringed. If I was here on vacation, as I initially planned, I would have the local fire department running here in a jiffy. But now I had more important task at hand. Someone else would have to bring them over.
I swore under my breath. This was fucking ridiculous. Jack and I had a zero chance now for spotting anyone who tried to sneak up on us. God damn party boat. Another firework exploded high in the sky, lighting the area with a cool-silver glow. Shouts and hoots of a drunken approval followed, only adding onto the madness.
When I was scanning the woods, a movement to my left caught my eye. Someone was running between the trees, away from the water! I trained my gun on the figure, but I didn’t pull the trigger. That could have been anyone, even the neighbors’ kid.
I half-stood-up and rushed into the woods, but trying to stay close to the cabin. I hid behind a tree and pulled my night vision goggles on. Now, I was in business. The little shit had no chance. I saw him crouching about ten yards to my left with a gun swiveling from side to side. He wasn’t sure where to point it. I did. I aimed for his thigh and pulled the trigger, just as another firework cracked open in the sky.
He howled in pain and fell onto his side.
“Drop the weapon.” I rushed to him with my gun trained on his head.
He did, clutching onto his leg with the other hand. I kicked his pistol out of his reach. He was about my age, but even his loose t-shirt wouldn’t conceal how skinny he was. No muscles to speak of. That didn’t necessarily mean the guy was weak, but I had at least sixty pounds on him.
He was panting and yelping in pain, his eyes terrified. There was a thick scar on his chin that looked like it was left by a knife. “Leave me alone. What do you want?” he squealed in high voice.
With the gun still pointed at him, I quickly searched him for any other weapons, but found none.
“Who are you? What do you want?” he repeated, scared out of his mind. His eyes flicked all over me, unsure of what was to happen next.
In my night vision goggles I must have looked like a real bad ass to him—prepared and ready. Good. Nothing worked better in the start than the right image. Fortunately, I had skills to go with that image too.
I pressed the muzzle of my gun to the side of his skull and said, “Shh. You’re too loud.”
He didn’t know what to make of me, but he shut up.
“Good. What’s your name?” I asked quietly.
“Vince,” he peeped, shaking.
“How many of you are here?” I asked.
His chin trembled, but he managed to say, “Eight.”
I hoped he wasn’t lying. I looked at his leg. The blood seeped through his pants fabric and glistened on his fingers. But it wasn’t an artery. He would live.
“Where are the rest of your friends?”
“What? I told you—everyone is here… the eight, including myself. We drove in two trucks. Left them by the road.” Vince was scared out of his mind.
I kept at it, “How did you know where to come?”
“I don’t know anything,” he cried.
“Shh,” I said in a soothing voice. “If you tell me all I need to know, I’ll let you live. If not… the choice is yours.” I wondered if that was the fucker that killed Lisbeth’s friend Helen. I could rip him apart with my bare hands.
Vince cowered away from me, but I grabbed his hair and pulled him back so his cheek touched the muzzle of my M9. “I’m a patient man, but even my patience has limits, and you’re testing them. I would be careful if I were you,” I whispered.
“Okay, okay… I know a little. Not much. They don’t tell me everything. I overheard Ed and Max talking. It’
s about some girl. They said she has to be dealt with, this time for good. No more fuckups.”
“Who are Ed and Max exactly?”
“Ed runs the club. Max is his right hand.”
“The club, you say, eh? More like a gang, isn’t it? What do you do in your club?”
“We just… hang out.”
I hit Vince over the face with the back of my hand. His head bounced to the side, and he cried in pain.
“I told you about certain limits to my patience?” I made a show of cocking the gun. “The are officially stretched. You talk, or I pull the trigger.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, wailing. “No, no, no! What do you want to know? Please!”
I pushed the gun into his cheek. “Where are you from?”
“Florida. Tampa.”
“When did you come here and why?”
“We’ve been in Portland for over a week. Ed’s contact gave him the location. We had everything arranged—a place to stay, the trucks, the weapons. Everything. I don’t know how. They don’t tell me nothing. I just hear it here and there. The other guys who work for them don’t know much either. We are just told what to do and we go in.”
“Go in and do what? Kill an innocent girl?” I hissed through clenched teeth. “What do you know? What happened in Portland?”
“The explosion? It was our club’s job. We were told to blow that warehouse to pieces. So we did. But then they told us to drive here,” he gestured around, “and do it all over.”
“Why? To blast something else?” Fuck, they did want to level Ryley’s cabin. Over my dead body. Dealing with my brother was worse than hell. And of course there was Lisbeth. I told her to hide inside. I couldn’t let those monsters get to her.
“No, not here. Ed said it was more complicated now. We were to get inside the house and kill everyone there, then leave quickly,” Vince’s voice trembled as if he was about to cry.