“How long until he’s useful again?” the male voice says. The words echo in Zane’s head.
Dr. Wensel shrugs. “He’s in very good shape. Luckily, the bullet didn’t hit any organs. I’d give him a few months to recover.”
Heavy footsteps approach Zane. The figure leans down. Zane squints through the bright light, and sees Vincent studying him. Zane gets the feeling that Vincent’s appraising him, mentally calculating Zane’s worth.
Zane’s head is still swimming, and he can barely make sense of it all. He racks his brain to remember what happened. How had he gotten here?
He scans the room. There’s a chair in the corner, with someone sitting in it. No, they’re strapped to it. It’s a woman. Her head hangs down to her chest. There are dark bruises on her arms and legs. From what Zane can see, her face is very swollen. She looks like she’s barely breathing.
Zane knows her too. He forces himself to remember, then the name pops into his head. Grace.
Zane turns to Dr. Wensel. “You should help her,” Zane implores.
Dr. Wensel monitors a machine hooked to Zane, acting as if she didn’t hear him.
Anger rages up from Zane’s belly, intensifying the pain. “Didn’t you take a hippocratic oath? You have to help her.”
“That’s enough, Zane,” Vincent says. “Calm down. You’ll wear yourself out.”
Zane levels his gaze at Vincent. “That’s your wife.”
Vincent shakes his head. “She’s a traitor. I can’t waste resources on a devalued asset. I was fond of her, no doubt. But she’s of no use to me anymore.” Vincent sighs, then taps his temple. “Head before heart. That’s how you succeed in business.”
Zane looks at Grace, who’s barely alive, then at the IV’s in his arm the sterile bandages, and the machines measuring his heart rate and pulse. Grace is a traitor? How? And why is Vincent keeping Zane alive?
Vincent picks up an x-ray and looks at it. “You lucky son of a gun,” he says, followed by a whistle. “That bullet went straight through. And Jacob’s an idiot.” Vincent addresses Dr. Wensel. “Jacob’s a smart kid. He has a real future in this industry, but he’s so impulsive.”
Dr. Wensel nods, then turns back to the machine.
Jacob.
It all comes back to Zane at once. Jacob had shot him. Jacob said he knew where Penny was, and he was going to kill her. Zane takes a sharp breath in. The resulting pain is so intense Zane thinks it will kill him.
Vincent puts down the x-ray, then turns to Zane. “Jacob will grow out of his undesirable traits. But you, sir, are the worst hire I’ve ever made.” Vincent digs through his pocket, and produces a cell phone. He shows Zane a picture of Zane and Penny, the one his mother had taken. Vincent brings the phone over to Dr. Wensel, and shows it to her with a nudge. Dr. Wensel glances at the picture, and gives a quick laugh. Vincent shakes his head in disbelief. “You gave up a life of independent wealth for her? She has a nice body, nice face. But with seven million in your account, you could do much better.”
Zane hardens his face, not saying anything. He’d like to rip out these IVs, fight through the pain and lunge off of this bed to strangle Vincent Connor. But he has to wait for his chance.
Dr. Wensel leans over Zane’s torso to examine the bandage wrapped around him. Zane is still, waiting for Dr. Wensel to get closer. He jerks his arm, causing one of the IV needle to become misplaced. Fluid leaks from the chord all over his arm. Dr. Wensel curses under her breath, then leans over him to fix the IV.
Now’s his chance. Zane hurls his head forward, smashing is forehead right between Dr. Wensel’s eyes. She gets a dazed look on her face, then slumps forward on his chest, passed out momentarily. Zane hooks his forearm around the doctor’s neck and squeezes. Dr. Wensel comes to and begins to flail against him.
Zane glares at Vincent. “I’ll kill her,” Zane says. “I’ll snap her neck. Don’t come any closer.”
Vincent looks at Zane, and just laughs. Still holding Dr. Wensel, Zane shifts his weight on the bed. Sharp pain shoots through him. He groans through it, trying to heave Dr. Wensel and his own heavy body.
Vincent casually walks over to the IV bag, and makes an adjustment.
Shit, Zane thinks, panicking. He lets go of Dr. Wensel, then desperately grabs for the IV connected to his arm. Before he can grasp it, a powerful lethargy overtakes him. His large body crumples against the bed, and his eyelids slam shut.
Darkness overtakes him again.
*
Penny tears through the dark woods, barely seeing where she’s going. Her clothing snags on branches. She stumbles over sharp rocks that painfully penetrate the bottom of her foot. Her breathing is shallow and wild. But with pure fear propelling her forward, Penny doesn’t notice any discomfort. Fleeing through the woods from Jacob has conjured the feral girl inside of her. She runs blindly, as quickly as she can, never looking back.
She has no idea how long she runs, or where she is. Her legs are on fire from the effort. She slips into a tangle of trees to catch her breath. She digs her fingers into the bark of the tree in front of her, and surveys her surroundings. Night is giving way to dawn. Milky rays pierce through the darkness, covering the woods in an unsettling stillness. She doesn’t see Jacob anywhere. She’s trying to keep quiet, but inside she’s screaming, Ben, where are you, I need you, Ben. She almost expects to see her big brother appear heroically by her side. He’d look her in the eyes and tell her that everything will be okay, that he’d take care of Jacob.
But Ben’s not here. And neither is Zane. Penny is on her own.
She opens her hand, the one clutching the flash drive. Her fingers are sore as they extend. There are red marks on her palm where the edges of the flash drive had dug into her flesh. Clutching the files to her chest, she allows herself a brief moment of relief.
But it’s not enough that she has the flash drive. She has to get back to the cabin. She needs the car keys so she can get the hell out of here.
No one’s here to help her. No one will emerge from the brush to save her. It’s up to Penny alone. She creeps through the woods, trying to get her bearings. After her wild, directionless running, she has no idea where she is. Penny thinks back to when she was eleven or so, when Ben had taught her to track her own path through the woods. She follows compacted leaves, her footprints, and pieces of her shirt snagged on branches. The path is wild and erratic. She stays alert, ready to flee at the first sign of Jacob.
Penny stays calm, and soon, starts to recognize landmarks. There’s the shallow stream she’d leapt over in her wild fear. She knows it runs a half a mile or so from the property. She stays on the bank, following the cool clear water. Soon, she sees the cabin in the distance. Concealing herself behind a tree, she watches it for signs of Jacob.
In the burgeoning daylight, Penny sees the bright red corvette parked to the side of the cabin. A gnawing anxiety grips her, telling her to rush inside as fast as she can to get what she needs. Penny digs her fingernails into her palm, telling herself to be patient.
She stays as still as stone, her focus like a laser on the house. There’s no movement, inside or out. Jacob must still be in the woods looking for her.
She shouldn’t waste time. He could be back any minute. Keeping her head down, she sprints to the cabin, and up the steps to the porch. She tries to open the front door, but it’s locked. She moves fast, thinks fast. Now’s not the time to get caught up in over analysis. She rams her elbow against the small window in the door. At first, the glass cracks. She hits it again and again until it finally shatters. She reaches her arm inside. Shards of glass prick into her skin. Blood runs down her arm, staining the white paint of the door. Ignoring the pain, she grapples blindly until she finds the doorknob. She unlocks it, and lets herself inside.
Penny doesn’t have time to consider her torn clothes, bloodied arm, or the exhaustion left in the wake of pumping adrenaline. She grabs the keys from the counter, and her backpack on the floor by the door. She starts to mak
e for the door, when her attention turns to the laptop on the table.
She glances around wildly. There’s no immediate threat. Jacob’s not here. She can’t resist the urge to finally learn the truth she’s desperately been seeking. Adrenaline flows into her veins once again, causing her to shake. Her breathing is panicked as she sits on the couch and pulls the computer into her lap.
With trembling hands, Penny inserts the flash drive into the port. She’s memorized the code Ben included in his letter. Her hands flit across the keyboard as she types it in.
About a half dozen results pop up. Of them, one is titled OFFICIAL REPORT. Another is titled UNOFFICIAL REPORT (FOR AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY). Penny opens the latter.
She scans the document quickly. It describes how Ben, referred to by his code number, shot the attacker, foiling the plan. He was then apprehended by VC Solutions guards, and taken into their custody.
There’s no mention of Ben’s death.
He was apprehended. Where did they take him?
Ben’s not dead.
Penny slides the laptop off her thighs, and doubles over, breaking down in tears. Her brother’s alive. He didn’t leave her. Penny always knew Ben was out there somewhere. She could feel it. But this joyful release is tempered with panic. VC Solutions has Ben in custody. The company lied to Penny and her family about his death. He’s probably suffering at their hands.
There’s a noise outside, a footstep, then another, climbing the porch steps. Penny freezes. Her breathing becomes shallow and erratic as terror pricks at the back of her neck. She feels her every vein become hot and thick with blood. The tension in her muscles threatens to paralyze her.
No one’s coming to save you, she reminds herself.
Penny breaks free of the terror, and quickly extracts the flash drive from the computer. She hides it in her bra. Then, she fumbles into her backpack, pulls out the mace, and shoves it in her pocket. She watches the front door, hearing the footsteps approach.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Penny?” Jacob calls. He swings the door open. He’s holding a gun. “You really did a number on that door,” he comments. Casually, he taps the tip of the gun against the doorway. “Come join me on the porch. Looks like we’re going to get a brilliant sunrise.”
Jacob flashes a charming smile as he points the gun at Penny. He’s not asking her to join him on the porch, he’s forcing her to. Without any other choice, Penny stands, knowing that she’s probably walking to her death.
If Ben was here-
If Zane was here-
But they’re not. Penny takes a deep breath, feeling the flash drive tucked into her bra as her chest expands. As she walks out onto the porch, into the orange pink glow of the sun breaking the horizon, she thinks of Zane. She wants to get back to him. She promises herself that she will.
Jacob keeps the gun aimed at her while sitting in one of the outdoor chairs. “Sit,” he says, gesturing to the chair beside him.
Penny does what he says, never taking her eyes off of him. When Penny sits, Jacob leans back, sighing, and closing his eyes briefly.
“It’s so peaceful out here,” Jacob says. “We haven’t had a chance to properly catch up. How the hell have you been, Penny?”
Penny ignores the fierce beating of her heart, and the urge to pass out. “Fine,” she says, coldly. “Until now.”
Jacob feigns offense.
Penny smiles, playing along. “I know about the seven million dollar bounty on my head.” She shrugs, forcing herself to look away from the gun, and relax into the chair. It’s a funny thing, but by acting calm, she’s starting to feel calm. It gives her a sense of control over the situation.
“I’m glad to see you’re not taking it personally,” Jacob says.
“I’m flattered, actually. Seven million, wow. I can’t believe I’m worth that much to someone. But I get it. It’s just business.”
Jacob leans forward. The smile that spreads across his face makes Penny’s skin crawl. “Just business. Precisely. Which is exactly why I shot your boyfriend.”
The words land on Penny’s ears with a dull thud. Her chest constricts with panic. Her senses threaten to shut down. Her vision goes dark, and she gets the sense that she’s leaving her body.
She fights to get control over herself. Inside, she’s going crazy. She wants to grab Jacob and ask him if Zane is dead. She tries to fortify herself, but she can’t get a handle on her emotions. She sits up straight, clasping her chest. Jacob’s laughter rings through the air.
“I’ll tell you what,” Jacob says. “Since we go way back, I’ll make this as quick and painless as possible. See, I used to enjoy the struggle. Actually, enjoy is too weak a word. I got off on it. I can still see little Mary, her arms and legs flailing as I held her under. I can remember the moment when the bubbles stopped rising to the surface.” He sucks in air through his nose. “What a rush.”
Saliva floods Penny’s mouth. Her stomach lurches, like she’s going to throw up. She hasn’t eaten in a while, so she gags instead.
“But, it’s always a pain in the ass to clean up,” Jacob says, regretfully. He lifts his arms in the air, stretching, then points the gun towards the railing of the porch. “Go stand over there. Look at the sunrise. It will all be over soon.”
Penny can barely hear for the ringing in her ears. When she doesn’t react right away, Jacob’s mood changes. He hardens his face, and stands up quickly. Jacob grabs her arm and jerks her out of the chair, slamming her into the railing.
A trembling starts from deep inside of her core. Penny’s eyes settle on the dazzling sunrise. This world is so ugly, so full of pain. Turmoil is the only thing she’s ever known, ever since she was a child. When she met Zane, she saw happiness as a possibility, something she’d never considered before. She feels foolish for ever thinking that way. Behind her, she senses Jacob raise his arm, and cock the gun.
The gun that killed Zane, Penny thinks.
Her eyes fill with tears at the thought of Zane, motionless, dead, shot by this psychopathic asshole, probably because Zane was trying to protect Penny. It’s all her fault.
I can’t fight Jacob without you, Ben, Penny thinks. I tried, but I can’t.
She squares her shoulders forward, waiting for the shot. The flash drive rubs against her flesh.
In an instant, something shifts inside of Penny. Ben’s alive. He needs her. And if Ben’s alive, it’s possible that Zane is too. She’s not done here.
Penny whirls around, startling Jacob.
“Damn it, Penny,” he yells. “You’re going to make me bungle the shot.”
Penny plants her feet beneath her. “Seven million to kill me?” She reaches into her bra, and pulls out the flash drive. “How much do you think this is worth to Vincent Connor?”
Jacob lowers the gun to his side. He purses his lips, as if considering this.
Penny narrows her eyes. “I bet we could get at least twenty.”
Jacob cocks his head to the side. “Twenty million split two ways? It hardly seems worth the risk.”
“How about a 80/20 split? That’s sixteen million for you. My way of saying thank you for not killing me.”
Jacob pauses for a moment, then raises the gun again. “How about I kill you, take the flash drive, and all of the money for myself.”
Penny perceives the next few moments in slow motion. She sees Jacob’s finger twitch over the trigger. She feels her arm hurl forward, and sees the flash drive float through the air, headed straight for Jacob’s face. His mouth molds into a surprised ‘o.’ He instinctively shields his face with hands, briefly taking the gun off of Penny.
She seizes the moment. Grabbing the mace from her pocket, she points it at Jacob, and douses him with the fiery mist. Jacob clutches his throat, dropping the gun in the process, as he fights for air. His eyes clench shut, and tears stream down his face.
I’m actually doing it, Penny thinks, looking at him in disbelief.
She snaps out of her awe, the
n quickly grabs the gun. Jacob is writhing on the ground, desperately wiping his face. He tries to call Penny vulgar names, but all that comes out is choked grunts. Penny spots his iPhone hanging out of his pocket. She snatches it, thinking it might have information about Zane’s location.
“Stay where you are,” she says, in her most commanding voice, before fleeing from the porch, and rushing to her car. She cranks up the engine, and peels out of there, feeling like a complete fucking bad ass.
Chapter Eighteen
Zane lies at the bottom of a thick, black pool. The darkness has oozed down his throat and invaded his stomach, and the heaviness has sunk him like a log. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t know if he ever was capable of movement. He’s stopped sinking for the moment, but he gets the feeling that the bottom could fall out in any second, and down he’ll go, farther and farther from reality.
Farther from Penny.
She moves around him like a ghost, flitting in and out of his consciousness. He can’t quite pin her down. He’ll feel a stirring inside of him, telling him that he must fight against this thick ooze to save Penny. But the darkness grows heavier, pressing against his chest, holding him down.
There’s a rumbling beneath him. He’s moving. No, something, or someone, is moving him. The darkness solidifies, and begins to crack. Zane sense his entire body moving through space. Those cracks widen, allowing the light to shine in.
The light becomes glaringly bright. Zane gasps deeply, fighting to regain consciousness. He hears the beeping of the machines. He senses someone by his side. He turns to the person, focusing on their face, and forcing his eyes to adjust.
Dr. Wensel. She gives him a pinched look. One of her eyes is black and swollen.
I did that, Zane remembers.
Dr. Wensel eyes harden with contempt, but she maintains her cool, professional demeanor. She picks up a ceramic bowl. It’s filled with a steaming liquid with a savory aroma. Broth. The smell makes Zane’s stomach churn with need.
“Drink,” Dr. Wensel commands.
Zane lifts his arms to take the bowl from her, only to find that he’s strapped to the hospital gurney. In his confusion, he fights against his restraints briefly. His legs are also tied down. There’s a thick strap around his waist, and another around his chest.
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