by John Rector
“You don’t need her,” I said. “She’s innocent.”
This time Victor smiled. He held his hand out flat, palm up. David stepped forward. He took a black knife from his pocket and unfolded it. The blade was short and sharp and curved like a talon. He placed it handle first in Victor’s open palm.
Victor looked down at the knife, then up at David.
David turned to me and swung hard.
The side of his fist connected with the bridge of my nose, slamming my head back. A brilliant cascade of light exploded behind my eyes, blinding me, and sent shards of pain shooting through my head and down my spine.
The room swam around me.
Victor stood across from me, watching, still holding the knife. “It upsets me the way this is turning out,” he said. “I had higher hopes.”
I coughed, tasted blood.
“Obviously the envelope was delivered to you by accident,” Victor said. “I was hoping you’d recognize that fact and return it, but I can see that’s not going to be the case.”
I tried to say something, anything, but the blood in my throat was thick, making it impossible to speak.
“Unfortunately, your decision has consequences.”
I watched him lift the knife, and I bit down on the insides of my cheeks, trying to prepare myself for whatever came next. I waited for him to step closer, but he didn’t.
Instead, he crossed the room toward Abby.
When she saw him coming, she lurched backward against the man holding her, fighting against his grip, raging behind his hand.
“Every decision we make has consequences.” Victor stopped in front of Abby, then reached out and grabbed the collar of her shirt and pulled it away from her skin. “Action and reaction. It’s actually very simple.”
He lifted the knife and cut through her collar.
Abby twisted in the man’s grip, and for an instant she managed to free herself enough to scream at them, but the man holding her recovered quickly, squeezing her tighter.
“Some people, however, don’t grasp the concept of consequences, and I can see now that you’re one of those people, Nick.” Victor ran the knife down the front of Abby’s shirt, cutting through the thin fabric as he spoke. “Everyone knows that if they drive too fast, they might get a ticket. If they drink too much, they’ll have a hangover. If they kill someone, they might go to prison. But with the smaller things, people sometimes need a reminder.”
When he finished cutting, he reached out and pulled the two sides of Abby’s shirt apart, as if opening a set of curtains, revealing her skin and a thin pink bra.
“Wait.” My voice was a whisper. “Don’t . . .”
He looked back at me.
“Don’t get me wrong,” he said. “Modification of behavior is fundamental in a civilized society.” He tapped the knife in the air, emphasizing his point. “But what happens when the consequences of a person’s actions aren’t clear? What happens then?”
Victor turned back to Abby.
He pulled the middle of her bra away from her skin and slid the curved blade under the fabric between her breasts.
“How do you make the right decision when you don’t understand what’s at stake?”
Abby stopped struggling, and from where I sat, I could see the tears running down her face, covering the man’s hand over her mouth. She was staring at me over Victor’s shoulder, her eyes panicked and desperate.
I wanted to help her, but the ringing in my head was loud, and the floor felt unsteady under my feet. There was nothing I could do.
“The answer, I suppose, is a teacher.”
Victor pulled the knife back hard, cutting through the center of Abby’s bra, exposing her breasts. Abby cried out, helpless.
I coughed, trying to clear the blood out of my throat.
Victor turned to me, his eyes distant. “And teachers sometimes need to make an example.”
He flipped the knife over in his hand, then reached out and grabbed her left nipple and pulled, twisting it hard.
This time when Abby screamed, it was loud.
I saw her legs wobble under her, but the man holding her wouldn’t let her fall, and Victor didn’t loosen his grip. Instead, he glanced back at me, then twisted harder, straining with the effort.
Abby shrieked. The sound was deafening.
When Victor spoke next, his smile was gone.
“This is your consequence, Nick.”
He turned and pressed the edge of the curved blade against the skin above Abby’s nipple and began to slice. Abby thrashed against the man holding her, kicking and fighting, screaming.
Finally, I found my voice. It was choked and broken, but it was there.
“My car,” I said. “The envelope, it’s in my car.”
Victor looked back at me. The knife was still pressed against Abby’s skin, and I could see a thin trail of blood running down the side of her breast, dripping onto the floor.
“If you’re lying to me—”
“I’m not lying,” I said. “The envelope is in my car, in the glove compartment. The keys are in my pocket.”
Victor nodded to David, who reached into my jacket pocket. He took the keys, then walked out the front door.
Once he was gone, Victor lowered the knife. He let go of Abby, then reached out and gently closed her shirt over her chest, covering her. He looked up at the man behind her and said something I didn’t hear.
The man stepped back, and Abby crumpled to the floor, sobbing, trying to cover herself with her torn shirt.
Victor turned to me, shook his head.
“I do hope you’re telling the truth,” he said. “I can’t stand the sight of blood.”
13
For a while the only sound in the room came from Abby, crying in the corner. Victor didn’t seem to notice. He sat next to me on the couch, knife in hand, staring at me.
I tried to not let it bother me.
I don’t know how much time passed before I heard David’s footsteps on the porch. When he came back inside, he had the manila envelope in one hand and a black laptop bag slung over his shoulder. He handed the envelope to Victor and tossed my keys on my lap. They hit my leg and dropped to the floor.
Victor opened the envelope and looked inside.
“It’s all in there,” I said. “Everything she gave me, just like I told you.”
He ignored me and reached into the envelope. He took out the flash drive and handed it to David.
David slipped the bag off his shoulder, then pulled out a laptop and opened it on the coffee table. He plugged the flash drive into the side and started typing.
“It’s password protected,” I said. “You won’t be able to open it without—”
“I’m in,” David said.
Victor got up and walked around to the other side of the coffee table. He leaned over David, their faces reflecting the dead blue light from the screen.
“Is it all there?”
“I think so,” David said. “Give me a minute.”
Victor stood and paced the room, tapping the blade of the knife against his open palm. After the second pass, he started mumbling to himself, his eyes distant and unfocused.
The zip tie around my wrists was cutting off my circulation, and my hands were going numb. I tried to move them enough to get the blood flowing, but that only made it worse.
“You’ve got what you wanted,” I said. “Untie me.”
Victor continued to pace the room. If he heard what I said, he didn’t show it.
Several minutes passed before David stopped typing. “It’s incomplete.”
Victor stepped behind him and leaned in to look. “Are you sure?”
David nodded. “I’m sure.”
“Check again,” Victor said. “Maybe she—”
“There’
s nothing to check,” David said. “It’s not here. She lied to us.”
Victor stared at the screen for a moment, then stood and ran his hand through his hair. He turned and threw the knife against the wall. It hit hard, cracking the plaster.
Abby flinched, pushing herself back into the corner.
After that, the room was silent.
Victor stood with his back to me, and I could see his shoulders rising and falling with each breath. The mood in the room was changing, and I didn’t like it.
“That’s what she gave me,” I said. “I didn’t touch—”
Victor held up one finger, signaling for me to stop talking, but I couldn’t do it. I wanted him to know.
“I didn’t touch anything,” I said. “If there’s a problem, it’s because she didn’t—”
“Mr. Ellis?”
The man standing next to Abby looked over at Victor.
“Pick that up.” Victor pointed to the knife lying on the floor next to several shards of broken plaster. “If this one says one more word, I want you to cut his fucking tongue out of his head.”
Ellis nodded, then bent down and picked up the knife.
I looked over at Abby and started to say something else, but then her eyes went wide and she shook her head.
I changed my mind.
“You know what?” Victor turned and looked from me to Abby, then back to me. “On second thought, shoot them both.”
At first the words didn’t sink in, but then Ellis reached into his coat and pulled out a black handgun. As he started toward me, the reality of the situation hit hard. It was like a stopwatch inside my head counting down.
In the distance, I heard Abby begging Victor to stop, but all I could see was Ellis and the gun. I tried to think of something to say, but there was nothing.
Ellis stood in front of me and lifted the gun.
I closed my eyes.
“Wait.”
This time it was Victor’s voice, and when I opened my eyes he was staring at Abby. She was standing next to him, holding her shirt closed with both hands and shifting her weight from one foot to the other, back and forth.
“Say that again,” Victor said. “What you told me.”
I saw Abby’s lip tremble, but when she spoke her voice was steady. “I said we’d talk to her. We’ll get whatever she owes you. Just stop, please.”
Victor turned to Ellis and shook his head.
Ellis lowered the gun.
I felt a cold chill drip down my spine, and I started to shake.
I couldn’t make it stop.
Victor stared at Abby. “What makes you think she’ll do anything for you?”
“Not me,” Abby said. “Him.”
She nodded toward me.
Victor looked at me. “Him?”
“He has to meet with her again,” she said. “He’s the only one she’s seen. If anyone else shows up, she’ll know something went wrong and she’ll get scared. She’ll close up, and then you’ll never get whatever it is you’re after.”
Victor seemed to consider this, silent.
“She’s a liar, but she’s not stupid,” Abby said. “If you want to get what she owes you, it has to be him.”
“And then what?”
“And then you let us go.”
Victor looked down at me on the couch. “What do you have to say about all of this?”
I didn’t want to say anything, but I saw what Abby was doing, and I understood. She was terrified, but she was also thinking on her feet. I had no intention of helping them, but lying might buy us some time.
“I’ll do what I can.”
Victor frowned. “That doesn’t sound convincing.”
Abby stared at me over his shoulder, pleading.
I took a deep breath and tried to steady my voice. It worked, but barely.
“I’ll get you what you want,” I said. “If you let us go.”
Victor turned and pointed to the laptop. David pulled the flash drive and handed it to him. Victor crossed the room and held it up in front of me and said, “You give this to her and tell her she has one chance to deliver what we agreed upon.” He paused. “Threaten her if you have to—I don’t care—but get her to deliver. Do you understand?”
“I understand.”
“Be convincing,” he said. “Otherwise, we do this again. And next time we’ll include your wife.”
I looked up fast—too fast.
Victor noticed and smiled. “What we do to her will be worse than anything you can imagine.”
I felt the rage building inside me, but I forced it down. My hands were tied and I was outnumbered. There was nothing I could do, at least not yet.
“She’s not part of this,” I said. “Don’t—”
“You’ve made her a part of this.” He held the flash drive up one more time, then set it next to me on the couch. “If you try to run or if you talk to the police, I’m going to take your wife apart piece by piece.”
He reached out and set his hand on my shoulder. It took all my strength not to shrug him off.
Victor motioned to David and Ellis, then turned to Abby. He took a white business card from his pocket and set it on the coffee table.
“You have twenty-four hours to get the information we want, no longer. Once you have it, call this number and leave a message. We’ll come to you.”
She nodded and backed away from him.
David put the laptop back in the bag, then picked up the envelope and handed it to Victor before following Ellis out the front door. Victor stayed behind. He stared at the envelope in his hand, then looked up at me before dropping it on the couch.
“For your trouble.”
He walked out, closing the door behind him.
I looked over at Abby, leaning against the wall. Once the door closed the tears came in a flood, and she slid down to the floor, trembling.
I turned away.
14
Abby disappeared into the bedroom.
When she came back, she was wearing a long pink T-shirt and carrying a pair of scissors.
“Turn around.”
She cut through the plastic zip tie around my wrists. Once my hands were free, I shook them out to get the blood flowing, then took my cell phone from my pocket and dialed Kara’s number.
“Do you want some ice for your nose?”
“I’m fine.”
Abby dropped the scissors on the coffee table next to Victor’s card and sat on the couch. She leaned forward, rubbing the sides of her head with her fingertips, mumbling to herself.
Kara’s phone went to voice mail. I hung up and dialed her number again.
It occurred to me that she was screening my calls, and after our conversation that morning it didn’t surprise me. Kara was upset, and usually I’d take a step back and give her the space she needed to calm down, but not this time.
When her voice mail picked up again, I turned away from Abby and pressed the phone against my ear and said, “Kara, call me as soon as you get this. It’s important.”
I thought about adding more, but I didn’t know where to start, and with Abby sitting a few feet away it didn’t seem like the time.
I hung up, slipped the phone into my pocket, and turned to Abby on the couch.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded, didn’t look up.
I walked over and started searching the ground around the couch for my keys. I found them, then went to the window and split the blinds with two fingers and looked out at the empty street.
I didn’t see anyone, but that didn’t mean anything.
“Are they still out there?”
“Doesn’t look like it.” I stepped away from the window, letting the blinds clap shut. “The street’s clear.”
The manila envelope and t
he flash drive were both on the couch next to Abby. I put the flash drive back in the envelope, slid it into my pocket, and then flipped through my keys.
Abby watched me. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to find my wife.”
“You’re leaving?”
Her voice was gentle and quiet, and it touched something inside of me that I wished wasn’t there.
“I need to make sure she’s okay.”
“Please don’t leave me here,” she said. “I don’t want to be here alone.”
“I’m sorry. I have to go.”
I started for the door, but Abby stopped me.
“Wait.” She took a few quick steps toward me, stopping just out of reach. “Let me come with you.”
The way she looked at me made it hard to say no, but then I thought of Kara and how she’d react if I showed up at her house with a twenty-year-old blonde in tow.
“That’s not the best idea,” I said. “Is there someplace else you can go? I’ll take you wherever you—”
“Please?” Abby stared up at me, her lips trembling. “They could still be out there. They might . . .” Her voice broke, and she stopped talking.
“Is there anyone you can call?”
She shook her head. “I don’t have anyone here.”
“What about a neighbor?”
Abby looked away, and I could tell she was trying to hold back tears. It was a fight she was losing, and when they came, they came hard.
I wasn’t sure what to do.
I checked my watch, frowned, stepped closer.
“It’s okay,” I said. “Everything is going to be fine.”
I reached out and put my hand on her shoulder. When I touched her, she turned fast and wrapped her arms around me and squeezed, tucking herself against my chest.
She stayed like that, shaking, crying.
Eventually, I gave in.
The street outside was quiet and calm, and as we walked along the sidewalk, a warm lilac breeze moved with us. Abby held my arm tight in hers, and she kept her head down the entire way.