by Sienna Blake
I sigh. I could show him the dead body. That might smarten him up. But then again, I did a background check on Robert Yonga, aka RoYo, eight or so months ago. He used to be a small time thief, just handbag snatches and convenience store robberies back in his hometown. He’s done jail time, but after his stint he appeared to have cleaned up and had been working here at Dixie’s for almost four years on the straight and narrow. He probably wouldn’t be too scared of dead bodies or bullets. Perhaps he wouldn’t be too bad to have watching my back.
“Fine then. Stay for now. I’m going to check the answering machine.”
I walk through the living room towards the flashing red lights of the machine sitting on a side table on her desk near the window on the far wall. I hear Robert tinkering in the kitchen behind me.
Something still feels off. I stand at the answering machine and press the message button. The tape makes a whirring noise as it rewinds.
Then I realize what is off. There are two plates in the sink. But only one man hiding in the room. Where’s the other guy? And if there were two dinner plates here then how did Robert miss out on seeing the two men here if he came to check on the apartment around dinnertime? Was it just dumb luck? I frown as a thought enters my mind.
Before I can turn, I feel a sharp pain on the back of my head. Everything goes black.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Kitten
He hasn’t called yet.
He hasn’t fucking called yet. Jesus Christ. I pace Caden’s bedroom in the light of the bedside lamp wearing one of his shirts that still smells like him, glaring at the screen of my mobile, willing it to call. He should be there by now, shouldn’t he? He should have called by now, shouldn’t he?
I hate this. I hate this so much.
I don’t usually drink but I fucking need one at this second. I stomp over to the low side table and open the drawer where I know he keeps his whiskey and two cut crystal glasses. I pour two fingers of Macallan into a glass and throw it back. Well. That was a bad idea. It burns my throat and I tip forward, spilling whiskey on the carpet. Some of it dribbles down my chin. I cough as I slam the glass down on the table. I stumble to the bathroom spluttering in search of water and a cloth.
I shove my face under a tap and the cool water seems to snap me out of it somewhat. I just have to have faith. I just have to trust in Caden. Everything will be fine. It will be.
Chapter Forty
Caden
I come to and the first thing I notice is the uncomfortable pain in my arm. I’m lying on my side on the floor and my hands are tied behind me. I can feel the thick abrasive rope digging into my skin. I’m still in Dixie’s apartment. I recognize the silhouette of the couch and the low table of the living room that I’m in. Robert must have tied me up right where he knocked me out, probably using some sort of kitchen tool. A fry pan most likely from the way my head hurts like a bitch. Kitten said Robert could be trusted. Apparently not.
I can’t feel the guns at my back and my ankle gun has been taken, too. And probably my phone and torch. There’s still the small knife that slides out of my boot heel however. I start to reach for my boot knife so I can cut the ropes.
A knock at the front door startles me. I hear footsteps and assume it’s Robert coming from one of the bedrooms. Light floods into the entry area from the corridor so I can see Robert’s figure clearly when he steps into view. He peers through the peephole before opening the door to this late night visitor.
Robert steps back and the two figures step in. My stomach twists. I recognize two of Jacob’s men. One, a tall gruff looking meathead – I can’t remember his name. But the other one sends chills of fear through my veins. Snake. Jacob’s right hand man and “fixer”.
The men step into the apartment and the door closes behind them.
“Where is he?” Snake asks.
“In there.”
I lay my head back down and pretend to be out cold. I keep my breathing slow and shallow.
Three sets of footsteps walk across towards me. I hear a click as one of the side lamps is turned on and the light floods across my face and through my closed eyelids. I stay still.
“Hey, I know him,” the meathead says.
I hear Snake hum under his voice. “He does look familiar.”
“I did what you asked. Now let Dixie and Jeff go.”
“I asked for you to hand the girl over when she came back. I don’t see her anywhere.”
“She didn’t come with him. But he said he was her friend. I’ll bet this is Caden, the guy who she ran off with, who she’s in love with. He’ll definitely know where she is.”
“That’s not the deal.”
“He’ll lead you to her. Take him. Just let Dixie and Jeff go. They didn’t do nuthin’.”
There was a pause then Snake says, “Sure. Okay, I’ll let them go.”
“Really?”
“No.”
There is a small pewt sound of a gun with a silencer going off. Then I hear the thud of a lifeless body hitting the floor. I can smell the tang of copper blood in the air.
Oh Robert. You should have known better than to trust a man named Snake.
“Bring him,” Snake says.
I am grabbed by rough hands and dragged across the carpet.
Chapter Forty-One
They stuff me into the trunk of a car. As we ride along the streets I try to keep my ears out for noises and try to guess the direction we’re headed in.
As I suspect, we drive west towards the docklands. When the car stops, the trunk is opened and I’m greeted by the barrel of a gun. Behind it, Snake grins at me.
“Good morning, Caden Thaine,” he says. “Or should I call you Harper Boone? It gets so confusing with so many names, doesn’t it?”
The name Harper Boone sends my blood into a chill. Harper Boone is my name from when I was an officer. If Snake knows about Harper Boone then he recognizes me.
He nods as if he has read my mind. “I never forget a face, Mister Boone. No matter how different you look now. Tell me, how did those burns heal?”
I grit my teeth and say nothing. Even though my blood burns to reach out and wrap my hands around the fucker’s neck but my hands are still tied behind my back. Besides, there’ll be time for that later.
Snake gives me an icy smile. “Walk.”
I get out of the trunk. As suspected I’m in a warehouse complex. All I can see around me are grey concrete structures and shipping containers. I spot a few men holding large AKs on either side of the closest warehouse and a few more dotted about the complex. I can smell the tinge of oil on the air and a hint of salt water. I let Snake direct me into one of the warehouses. He walks me across the warehouse towards an enclosed back room.
There are two guards at the door. One of them unlocks the door while the other keeps his gun pointed at the room. I’m shoved towards the door and a hard boot in my back kicks me in. I fall to my knees before I roll automatically to soften the blow. It’s difficult to roll with your hands tied behind your back, but I do the best I can. I ignore the flare of pain in my shoulder. In this thick darkness, I hear the door lock behind me.
“Who’s there?” a female voice demands.
In the dim room there’s a tiny slit of a window high up near the ceiling. I let my eyes adjust. I see the huddled silhouette of two people in the far corner.
“I said who’s there. Come anywhere near us and by hell I will hurt you.” I can’t help the smile that rises to my lips. This must be Dixie. Kitten told me about her boss. “A real firecracker” she called her.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” I say and I struggle to my feet with my hands still bound behind me.
“Don’t worry about him, Dix,” a younger male’s voice says, “he’s all tied up.” This must be Jeff, the younger boy. His voice is shaky. I can tell he’s trying hard to be strong. Good on him.
I finally get to my feet. The knots I have been working at on these ropes finally give and I shake my hands out o
f them. I toss the rope to one side.
“Oh shit,” he says.
“Don’t worry, Jeff,” I say. “If I wanted to hurt you, I could do it regardless of whether I was tied up or not.” In the dark I wonder how much of the grin I’m flashing him he can see. “Good thing I don’t want to hurt you.”
“H-how do you know my name?”
“I’m friends with… Shelley.” I give them the name they know her by.
“Is she okay?” Dixie asks and she approaches me from the corner. The little light filtering through the window catches on her flame-red hair.
“She’s fine.”
“Unlike us,” Jeff says.
“Don’t worry. I have a plan.”
“A plan?”
“You don’t really think I would just let myself be caught without having a plan, do you?”
“Well then,” Dixie says, “what can we do to help?”
Chapter Forty-Two
Kitten
Caden was going to call with an update. It’s almost dawn and I still haven’t heard from him. I stare at my phone, my gut churning. He gave me instructions not to call him, he would call me. I want so desperately to call him but… what if he’s in the middle of something and his phone ringing gets him in trouble?
What if he’s already in trouble?
Finally my phone rings and Caden’s name flashes on my screen. Jesus Christ, I almost lose my mind with relief.
I answer. “Caden? Oh my God, I’ve been so worried.”
“Hello princess.”
My world stops. The sound of Jacob’s voice, even after all these years, brings a childlike terror that grips my throat like the claws of death. For a moment I forget how to speak. Jacob Tyrell has Caden’s mobile. Which means Jacob Tyrell has Caden. I almost drop the phone. Oh God. My heart clenches. What if they’re torturing him right now? What if he’s dea−? I cut off this train of thought.
“W-where’s Caden?”
“I’ve missed you.”
“Where is he?”
“What? No, ‘how have you been?’ No, ‘it’s been a long time’. No, ‘I’ve missed you too’?”
“What have you done with him?”
Jacob’s voice drops the fake friendliness. “Here’s the deal, princess. I have your friends; Dixie, Jeff and now Caden. If you want them to live, you will hand yourself over to me. You for them. What’ll it be?”
“I…”
My blood drains from my veins and I go cold and numb, like frostbite has claimed me. No… I can’t go back to Jacob. I can’t. I’d rather die.
But if I don’t, the people I care about will die.
Oh my God.
What do I do?
“I… I need some time to think.” I hear myself say, but it doesn’t sound like my voice. It sounds wooden and hollow.
“You have one hour.”
Chapter Forty-Three
Sometimes decisions are hard because you want both outcomes. Like… deciding between wearing the green dress for Caden or the blue one.
Sometimes decisions are hard because you’re trying to decide between something you want and something you should do instead. Like wanting to let Dixie and Jeff and Robert into my life even though I knew I should keep my distance.
What do you do when you’re faced between two horrible decisions? Do you let the ones you love suffer? Or do you take that suffering for yourself? Do you let people you love die? Or do you die in their place?
Could I live the rest of my life knowing that Caden had died for me? Oh God. The thought of it makes my throat coat with bile. I rush to the bathroom in my bedroom and I throw everything up from my stomach.
When I finish I struggle to my feet, swaying like I’m delirious from fever, and stick my head under the shower. As the water rushes over me I cry into it. I slide down the tiles, my clothes getting soaked, and crumple into a heap.
The shower door opens. Caden kneels beside me and his hands brush at my hair. I reach out for him. Even though he’s still fully clothed and he still has his shoes on, he comes into the shower with me. He sits against the shower wall and pulls me into his lap. He tucks me into his arms, into that space that I fit in so well.
“It’ll be okay. You’re okay,” he chants as he drags the flats of his palms across my back. He lowers his chin onto my head and he is all around me, soothing me.
Caden held me after I shot Mack. He held me and made everything better. But he’s not here now. He’s not here now. The man I fear more than anything in the world – the monster who populates my nightmares, awake and asleep – has him. Jacob has Caden, the man I love more than anything. More than life itself. More than my own life.
I can’t let Caden die for me. I can’t. I won’t let him.
As this decision sinks into my bones I seem to warm with its finality. I’m not going to let Caden die. But I’m not just going to hand myself over to Jacob.
I remember that last two lines of a poem by Dylan Thomas that my grandfather loved.
“Do not go gentle into that good night,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”
No, I won’t go gentle. I shall fight until my dying breath. And if I have to die sending Jacob to hell, then so be it. I’m prepared to do it.
In my bedroom, I dress like I’m going to war. In a way I am. Black stretchy pants that allow me full range of motion and that flare over black boots hide the gun in my boot. I’ve paired them with a black sleeveless top. Over the top I wear a black jacket. I stand looking at myself in the mirror. The weapons I’ve hidden on my body don’t show.
My phone rings, startling me. The loud, shrill echoes around my room sound like a siren. I swallow and try to compose myself as I pick up the phone and answer it. I can barely hear my hello over my heartbeat pumping in my ears.
“So, what’ll it be, princess?”
“I’ll make the exchange.”
I can feel him smiling through the phone. “Of course you will. You’re a good person, princess. You want to save the world.”
I cringe when I realize he’s referencing our first conversation all those years ago in his nightclub.
He continues, “I want you to drive to the−”
“No,” I interrupt. “If we’re going to exchange we’re doing it my way.”
“Interesting. I’m listening.”
“I want assurances that you’ll let them go. I want you to drop all three of them off at a location of my choosing where I’ll have someone waiting for them to make sure they are safe. If I get a call from that person saying they are safe, I’ll hand myself over to you wherever you tell me to go.”
“How do I trust you’ll hand yourself over once I’ve let your friends go?”
“I’m the trustworthy one here.”
“I don’t know about that. You ratted me out to the police last time, didn’t you?” His voice twists into a bitter hiss and any thought that Jacob wanted me so that we could reunite lovingly flies out the window. This man hates me with every foul beat of his blackened heart. He wants me to suffer.
My knees weaken. I have to sit on the bed so I don’t fall over but I keep my chin raised and my voice strong. “You have my word. I’ll hand myself over.”
“No. I’ll let Dixie and Jeff go first, but I’m keeping Caden as an assurance that you’ll come to me. Once you have arrived at the exchange point I’ll let him go.”
I grit my teeth. It’s as much as I can hope for. “You promise you’ll let him go.”
“Of course, princess.”
Chapter Forty-Four
“Mick, I need your help.”
“What is it, kid?”
As soon as I hang up from Jacob I call my old boxing coach. “I don’t have time to explain it fully but… a very bad man has my friends. I’ve managed to convince him to let two of them go. He’s going to drop them off out front of the central public library in two hours. I need you to be there when they get dropped off. And you need to call me and let me know they’re ok
ay.”
“What the hell? Is this that Caden guy who−?”
“No, it’s not him doing this. They have him. This is all my fault and I have to make things right. And if I don’t do what they want, they’ll kill him.”
“What do they want?”
I’m silent. I can’t tell him that it’s me that Jacob wants.
“Jesus,” he says, “are you at least going to tell me who ‘they’ are?”
“The less you know the better. Please, Mick.”
He swears. “This sounds like some bad shit, kid.”
“I know.”
“Let me call the cops. They can help.”
“No! No cops. Promise me.”
“I’ll only involve the ones I trust.”
“No. Mick, please. You said if I ever needed help I could ask you. I need your help and I’m asking you now, help me. Please.”
“Shit. Alright. Two hours, did you say?”
Chapter Forty-Five
I stalk through the mansion with a duffel bag filled with clips and loaded guns that I took from Caden’s stash. I also found a handful of slim knives that I threw into the bag. It clanks as I walk.
I storm through the kitchen and into the coat and keys area just inside the garage door. Wylie must hear the racket I’m making because he soon appears in the doorway behind me. “Where are you going?”
I pause long enough to look over my shoulder. “A very, very bad man has Caden. I’m going after him.”
“What?” His voice warbles and his face drains of color.
“You can’t stop me, Wylie.” I turn back to the key box and finger through the keys that are hanging there. “I need to use the fastest car you have.”
I hear a click of a gun loading behind me. “I’m sorry. I can’t let you go, madam.”