Hyde (Dark Musicals Trilogy)

by Laura DeLuca

  “Do you gotta be so rough with her?” Victoria asked softly.

  Weston gave her a dirty look. “Just be glad it’s not you, you little hoe.”

  Victoria didn’t come to her defense again. She averted her eyes and slunk back into a corner. Rebecca squirmed and fought with all her strength until the barrel of his gun poked against her ribs. It was so close to that tiny little life inside of her it made the panic all the more intense and lulled her into paralyzing obedience. Rebecca glanced at Victoria, desperate for assistance. But despite her former promises, Victoria ignored Rebecca’s silent pleas for help. The Latina stood silently on the sidelines like an uninvolved spectator while Officer Weston restrained her and covered her mouth with a sweaty hand.

  Rebecca was forced to watch as Robert withdrew a small bag of white powder tinged with pink, a metal spoon, and a lighter from his back pockets. Rebecca realized suddenly that before that moment, his needle had been empty and probably mostly harmless. However, it didn’t take long for him to mix and heat his magic brew while his audience watched, held captive by morbid fascination. In mere seconds, he siphoned the poison into his glass syringe with expert hands while Rebecca and Justyn both watched in hushed dread. Once it was ready, Robert lifted his weapon high and lurched toward Justyn with his lips set in a wicked grin.

  “What the hell … do you think … you’re going to do with that?” Justyn panted. Though he was hardly recovered from the last round of violence, he braced himself for Robert’s attack and was ready to spring, until Weston tsked in his direction.

  “Don’t tempt me to pull this trigger, kid,” he warned. “My finger is realllll itchy.”

  “Mmmmm! Mmmmm!”

  Rebecca tried to argue for Justyn to fight back with all he had, but her voice came out as only muffled gibberish. She wanted to tell him it didn’t matter if he sacrificed himself because if Weston didn’t shoot her, Robert was going to strangle her anyway. She shook her head almost violently to try to get the point across, but her husband was either too dazed or too desperate to grasp her signals. Taking Weston’s threat to heart, Justyn froze. In fact, everyone but Robert was rooted to the ground, watching the horrible scene unfold.

  “Though silence surrounds us, the words all ring clear.

  Every person in this world lives in constant fear.

  You may try to escape, but in the end it’s always the same.

  We’re all caught up in this dangerous game.”

  Robert stepped closer still, holding up the needle, playing with his prey, enjoying the panic and fear he invoked. He grabbed Justyn by his long hair and yanked his face upward, forcing him to see the point of the syringe at close range. “You’re about to embrace the character of Hyde in ways you never imagined, Lord Justyn.”

  “Get that … thing a-away from me!”

  Justyn’s voice didn’t hold nearly as much power as it normally did, though there was certainly an edge of panic in his words. He attempted to swat at Robert’s arm, but the blow fell short, and again, a boot was in his ribcage. Justyn gasped and grimaced, hardly able to breathe. He tried to roll out of the way of a second kick, but even that small struggle drained him. One final thrust, and Robert’s foot connected with Justyn’s temple. Finally overcome with pain and exhaustion, Justyn fell back against the wine racks, again giving into unconsciousness. Horrified, Rebecca almost yanked her way to freedom. Weston had to remove his hand from her mouth to get a better grip on her.

  “No, no, no!” Rebecca finally screamed and sobbed all at once. “Don’t touch him, you monster. Let me go!”

  Despite the gun jammed into her back and Weston twisting her arm into a painful position, Rebecca made every effort to break away from the cop’s clammy grip. She screamed at the top of her lungs, and Weston smacked Rebecca so hard her ears rang and she tasted blood. He covered her mouth with his hand again, this time much more forcefully.

  “Would you get on with it, Robert,” Weston complained. “You’re lucky I got the coroner in my pocket to explain away these bruises. But I’m telling you, this crap is really starting to grate on my nerves. I’m taking care of the girl now.”

  Rebecca gasped when the cop shoved his gun in the holster and slipped his hands around her neck even as Robert rolled up the long sleeves of Justyn’s dress shirt. She was certain her eyes were bulging, just like the purple veins that stood out in stark contrast against Justyn’s pale skin. Robert once again prepared to inject Justyn with the deadly potion, tossing the sides of Hyde’s cloak aside to better move his arms, as he lifted the needle and tapped it with medical precision before taking Justyn’s limp arm into his hand. He was a millisecond away from pricking the flesh and Rebecca was an inch away from losing consciousness due to the lack of oxygen when a gunshot shattered the silence.

  “Aghhhhh!”

  Weston dropped his hands from Rebecca’s throat, and she stumbled to her knees, coughing and trying to catch her breath. Through a haze of dizziness, she heard Victoria scream and Robert moan. The shock of the explosion was too much, even for Robert’s steady hand. He dropped the syringe, and the glass ruptured, releasing the toxin into an oozing puddle on the cement, where it mixed with the spilled wine.

  “No one move!”

  The order was issued from the entrance of the cellar, and everyone obeyed. Only Robert moaned and clutched his shoulder where the bullet had grazed his skin before slamming into wine racks behind him. Even as he cried out in pain, the rest of the people in the room turned to the stairwell. Weston forgot about restraining Rebecca and pointed his weapon toward the new threat. At first, Rebecca’s blurry eyes couldn’t make out anything but a pair of sneakers. After she blinked a few times more details came into focus, and she saw familiar tan legs covered in blond fuzz and jean shorts. His face was ashen, and his hands trembled as he aimed his nine millimeter at his partner.

  “Drop the gun, Weston,” the rookie cop demanded.

  It was Nino.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  It was apparent from the way his hands were trembling that Nino had never fired his weapon before, at least not outside the shooting range. Still, his shot had hit its intended target, and the echoing crack still rang in Rebecca’s ears. Her throat was sore, and she was still gasping for air. Though the bullet had only grazed him, Robert gushed blood. He finally discarded Hyde’s fur cloak and pressed his hand against the sleeve of his dress shirt to try to slow the flow. It did little good. The starched material was quickly staining a dark shade of red. Evil or no, the older man didn’t have the strength to stand up to even the mild flesh wound. Robert’s face turned chalk-white and he fell to the floor beside Justyn. Rebecca wasn’t sure if his collapse was caused by pain and blood loss or because Robert knew no matter what happened now, he was screwed.

  “Everyone, stay where you are,” Nino ordered. “No sudden moves.”

  With Robert out of commission, Rebecca wanted to run and check on her husband, but although Weston’s gun was no longer jammed into her ribcage, the danger was still very real. The two dueling officers created a barrier between her and Justyn that Rebecca didn’t dare to breach. If she tried to dart across the room, she could get caught in the crossfire when the policemen decided to start shooting.

  Rebecca could only stand in her corner while Nino stepped a little farther into the narrow cellar, trying to steady his aim. The young cop was obviously petrified while Weston appeared completely unfazed. In his jean shorts and Eagles jersey, Nino looked like he would be much better suited to tossing a football than having a shootout, but he held his ground with bravery and courage and shielded Victoria and Rebecca from Weston’s range.

  “Shit, Andrew,” Nino shifted his weight nervously from one foot to the other as he spoke, “I knew something was up with you. That day you pulled Justyn over and found those drugs … it was all too easy. You happened to park in just the right spot to catch them when they were driving by, even though it wasn’t our normal route. You claimed to see the paraphernalia und
er the seat when I was sure nothin’ was there. Even then, my gut told me something was off with the whole scenario.”

  “It was a setup,” Weston admitted. “Robert let me know when the drugs were planted and fixed the taillight so we’d have a legal excuse to stop them. Then he texted me to make sure I’d be in the right place at the right time to pull him over.”

  “Jesus, Andrew. How could you?” Nino shook his head. “Even after Becca told me about overhearing something about an ‘Andy’ being involved in this mess, I still didn’t want to believe it was you. I mean, I always knew you were a hard ass, but I never imagined you were a dirty cop. Dammit, you were my partner. I looked up to you, even though you treated me like dirt half the time!”

  “You’re breaking my heart, can’t you tell?” Officer Weston only sneered. “So what’re ya gonna do about it, rookie? You gonna shoot me?”

  “I will if I have to, Andrew,” Nino promised, though his voice cracked. “Just like I had to go behind your back and follow you around until I got to the bottom of all this. I figured out what was going on before you could get away with it. I’m not a fool or a coward, no matter what you might think. I’m not afraid to shoot, but I’m really hopin’ you’ll put down your gun and walk away.”

  “You think I’m scared of you, kid?” Weston’s response was cocky. “You don’t have the guts to shoot me. You’re way too green.”

  “It doesn’t matter if I do or not,” Nino warned. “I already called in for backup before I came down here. The detective on the murder case knows everything. It’s over, Weston. Surrender now and maybe the courts will go a little easier on you.”

  “Do you really think I’m gonna fall for that line of bull shit?” Weston snorted. “You know what they do to dirty cops in prison. I’d rather take my chances with you than wind up there. I might have to kill ya, but I’ll put the blame on that punk like we planned all along.”

  “Unless you got another needle in your back pocket, you better rethink that plan,” Victoria huffed. “And do you even got enough bullets left in that gun to take us all out? ‘Cause I’m done with this crap. Obviously what Robert said about you stealin’ my son was a lie, since you’re here. As long as he’s safe, I got no reason to keep takin’ orders from you two.”

  “Little whore!” The cop finally lost his ever-present composure when he turned to Victoria. “I had better things to do than babysit your brat. I don’t know what Robby was thinking getting you involved in this. He should have offed you as soon as you guessed Al was working for him.”

  “Nobody is getting offed.” Nino tried to sound like he was in control, but his voice cracked. “Just drop the weapon, Andrew.”

  Officer Weston only grinned. “Make me.”

  Rebecca wasn’t sure if the cop had a death wish or if he really believed he was unstoppable. Either way, it was evident Weston had no intention of relinquishing his gun. Nino pulled back the hammer of his pistol. Weston did the same, and Rebecca suddenly felt like she was stuck in a bad version of an old gunslinger movie. It was all going to come down to who was the quickest draw. Who would win this deadly game—the vigorous youth or the man with years of experience? Nino’s hands quivered so badly, Rebecca had no idea how he could emerge victorious, especially when Weston was the epitome of cool and collected.

  The seconds ticked by like hours as they waited. Rebecca was silent for so long she wondered if her throat was paralyzed. Weston’s finger was inching toward the trigger. Rebecca was certain he was about to fire and take down the good cop when the atmosphere in the room changed. A swirl of mist made everything blurry. At first Rebecca thought it was simply her eyes glazing over from fear. However, the temperature in the cellar dropped a good ten degrees, causing gooseflesh to rise on her arms. Soon the swirling mists gathered into mass and a shadowy figure materialized in front of Weston. Though she was translucent, it was the unmistakable outline of a woman.

  “Grace!” Rebecca practically cheered.

  “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Victoria mumbled, her brown eyes wide. “This place really is haunted.”

  “Oh shit.” Nino’s hands shook even harder as the image grew clearer and more distinct. They could just about make out the blond curls and lacey Victorian gown. Rebecca was a little afraid her savior was going to pass out, but at least Nino wasn’t the only one who was stricken. Weston was slightly peaked as well. Rebecca realized Grace had come to her rescue for the second time.

  “What … the … f—”

  Weston’s face turned a strange combination of gray and green. He lowered his gun for a fraction of a second as the ghostly apparition glided past him, her lips set in a tight frown. She didn’t spare him even a condescending glance but kept her gaze locked straight ahead before disappearing into the wall of wine bottles and vanishing like the waif she was. The whole encounter lasted perhaps three seconds, but that small distraction was all the time Rebecca needed to help Nino gain the upper hand.

  While Weston was trying to recover from the shock of the unexpected guest, Rebecca recognized her opportunity to attack. Only Victoria noticed Rebecca inch closer to the wine bottles, but the Latina didn’t raise any alarms. Rebecca grabbed a decanter that appeared a little heavier than the rest. Knowing time was of the essence, she didn’t stop to think about what she had to do. Rebecca simply swung the bottle like a baseball bat and struck Weston with all her strength on the side of his head.

  Glass shattered, and both Rebecca and Weston found themselves dripping with wine, but the cop didn’t go down. He didn’t even moan, despite the fact shards of glass were embedded in his flesh. In fact, the offensive act did very little other than to piss him off. Weston turned and glared at Rebecca with pure hate glinting in his beady eyes. Any shock or fear Grace had evoked had already passed, leaving behind only rage and frustration that his well-laid plans had been sabotaged. The policeman lifted his gun, aiming it at her chest, and it was clear he meant to shoot. Rebecca took a step backward, knowing it was pointless, but desperate for some means of escape. Only there was nowhere for her to go. She couldn’t disappear in the concrete walls the way Grace had. Rebecca was trapped.

  “Say goodbye, little girl,” Weston croaked.

  The hammer of the gun snapped back. Rebecca shut her eyes, thinking this was going to be the end. She prayed at least Justyn would come out of everything alive, that her maneuvering had bought him the time he needed.

  “Justyn—” she whispered.

  Her voice was cut off by the explosive crack of gunfire.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Rebecca waited for the agony. She waited to feel warm blood gush from the gaping wound in her chest. When neither occurred, she briefly wondered if she had died instantly and therefore felt no pain. Maybe the darkness that surrounded her was the emptiness of death. It was only the screams erupting all around her that made her realize that wasn’t the case. Unsure whether to be relieved or terrified, Rebecca snapped open her eyes and discovered the only person bleeding from a gunshot wound was Officer Weston.

  Nino crept a few feet closer, but his pistol was still raised and smoking. Rebecca swore the rookie cop must have shut his eyes before firing his weapon, because he seemed that unsure. But if he had, the shot still hit its mark. Weston dropped his firearm and clutched his ruined knee. Though he tried to steady himself, he lost his balance and fell into one of the smaller racks of wine, sending the whole shelf teetering to the ground on top of him. Victoria screamed, and Rebecca covered her face as slivers of glass flew in every direction. Her stockings and white wedding gown were splattered with more wine, but the price was minimal when Weston was finally out of commission. Once again, Nino had saved the day, with a little help from Grace.

  “Oh shit,” Nino mumbled. He sat down on the bottom step and put his head in his free hand. “Shit. I just shot my partner. Shit.”

  Nino was obviously overwhelmed, but Rebecca had been through enough to know any heroine worth her salt never assumed the villain wouldn’t mak
e a comeback. So while Nino was recovering from shock, Rebecca immediately ran to kick the gun out of the fallen cop’s reach. But she hadn’t followed her own rule. Weston was pinned under the wine rack and bleeding badly from his gunshot wound, so he was hardly a threat any longer. Rebecca was so focused on Weston, she forgot all about Robert. However, the old man certainly hadn’t forgotten her. Robert had made a full recovery from his lessor injuries and was back on his feet. Even though he had to realize it was over for him as both a drug lord and stage actor, Robert made one last desperate lunge for Rebecca.

  Rebecca turned just in time to see him coming at her with the broken syringe clutched in his hand. While the drugs were long gone, she was sure the point could still do some serious damage. She instinctively lifted her hands to shield her throat, but her maneuvering made little difference. Before either Robert or Rebecca knew what was happening, Victoria flung herself between them. The very second Robert plunged the point of the needle into Victoria’s chest; she returned the favor by sinking the butcher knife into his waist. Both of them staggered backward a few steps, but only Robert tumbled to the ground.

  “You little bitch!” Robert swore.

  “No, Robert,” Victoria said. “I am no man’s bitch. Not anymore.”

  Robert may have wanted to say more, but instead, he collapsed beside Weston, moaning and clutching his bleeding side. Blood poured from the wound, and his shirt was more crimson than white. Victoria spit in his general direction before she finally succumbed to her own injury. Her legs started to tremble, and Rebecca only barely managed to catch her and ease the Latina to the ground. Both their dresses were instantly soaked through with the wine that puddled the cement around them.

  “Oh shit!” Nino exclaimed.

  The young cop jumped back into action when he realized the battle hadn’t completely ended. He collected himself enough to force both his injured prisoners into one corner. He stood guard over them, just in case either of them made another miraculous recovery. It didn’t seem possible there would be any further issues though. Both Weston and Robert were white-lipped, docile, and only barely conscious. Still, Nino kept his gun trained on them while Rebecca tended to Victoria. The Latina was breathing rapidly and cringed when she saw the broken syringe jutting out of her chest.