by T K Barber
His heart slammed against his ribs so hard he truly thought he would die of a heart attack before he read the text.
GUESS WHO I HAVE
“No . . ."
Nick paled as his vision swam. Nausea pooled in his stomach and weakened his neck.
“No, no, no, no!”
He shot up in the seat and looked around the parking lot, even though he knew for a fact she wouldn't be there.
Right under his nose!? They got her when he was right here?! He watched her walk into the building, and no one followed, so they were in there. Waiting.
God. He should have gone in and looked.
He failed AGAIN! His chest heaved, and he gripped the phone tightly.
LET. HER. GO.
His breathing couldn't keep up with his heart, pin lights creeping in on the edges of his vision.
This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be real. He was having another nightmare. He'd wake up soon to his regular horrible life, which was far less horrible than this. He stared at the screen breathlessly.
WHICH ONE?
His brain froze. He’d been right. Same guy.
But that wasn't . . . how . . . that wasn't even a question, was it? How was . . .
He blinked several times and stared at the phone blankly.
How . . . could . . . he even make that choice? What kind of choice was that?!
He dropped the phone on his lap and covered his mouth to keep from screaming. Not that he had any air left to scream with. There was beyond no way he could answer that question.
Was it really any different than what he'd been doing, though? He'd been choosing Annalise every time he got sent a target. Choosing her life over theirs.
Of course, it was different. He knew the other choice now!
What if Scarlet had been a hit before he knew her? He shuddered.
Could he have killed an innocent woman?
No.
To save his sister?
. . .
What if she hadn't been innocent? Would he have killed her then?
Not if he saw her face. Of course, that was the reason he killed them all from behind in the first place.
God, it had never occurred to him he might have been sent a hit on a woman at some point.
Could he have done that? Not that it mattered now. He essentially just got sent one.
He shook his head to try and get his brain back on track. This was the literal book definition of unfair. He responded the only way anyone could.
BOTH.
He held his breath and waited, mind racing.
He had no moves. No plays. No idea where Annalise or Scarlet were, and no leverage. No one to ask for help. He still couldn't go to the police. He was completely helpless, floating in a void and it enraged him.
2 ADDRESSES
ONE IS YOUR SISTER
ONE IS SCARLET
CHOOSE ONE, OR THEY BOTH DIE
YOU KNOW WHO I'M WITH.
BET I WON'T SEE YOU!
Nick exhaled a short breath as his world collapsed.
Scarlet
“N . . . ick?”
Purple and orange swirls swam behind her eyes, and according to her neck, her head weighed at least twenty pounds.
Where was she? Was she—she shifted and winced. Tied to a chair?! As soon as she opened her eyes there was an intense pounding behind them, and she squeezed them shut again, groaning as her head lolled to the side.
“What—”
A tight grip on her hair jerked her head backward.
“Aaah!” Her eyes shot open from the pain, and she was met by a blurry Steven.
“Rise and shine. You can’t sleep through the main event.” He sneered and dropped her head.
“Ugh!”
A sharp pinch shot through her neck, making her teeth hurt. She squeezed her eyes shut again and gingerly leveled her head. His steps retreated, then stopped followed by the squeak of a chair. When she reopened them, her vision cleared, and she knew right where they were.
The old warehouse she came to with her father when she was little. He used to let her run around through the crates and had even played hide-and-seek with her once.
Why were they here? She glanced down at her legs and blinked in shock at the purple lines forming around the ropes.
She hadn’t noticed at first, but now she was fully aware of how tight they were. Even her ankles were bound painfully, so no dice on kicking his sorry ass.
Steven was across the small room, leaning back in an old metal office chair, complete with worn cushions, its frayed green fabric peeking out from under his thighs. He grinned smugly at her while he flipped his cell phone in the air.
“Guess what, Scarlet?”
The last thing she wanted to do was guess anything. Or talk to him, but she was more afraid than righteous.
“What?”
Her throat ached as her scratchy voice strained out. He popped the phone up high that time and snagged it out of the air with flair before he set it down on the desk.
“I won.”
Her head was still a little fuzzy, and she couldn't care less what he was talking about. Except that she was tied up and it probably had to do with her. Okay, so she did care a little.
She winced, readjusting on the cold metal chair and raised her eyebrows at him.
“Good for you. Did you choose the big orange gorilla? Or the princess crown?”
He laughed and pushed the chair back. The broken wheel scraped on the concrete floor, sending a shudder down her spine.
“I'm glad you still have your spunk. You can't be weak and be in this business.” He walked around the front of the metal desk and leaned back against it, crossing his feet and arms. “And once we're married business will be booming.”
Her mind reeled. Married? What the hell was this guy on? She snorted.
“Steven, do you even hear yourself!? What business? Why in God's name do you think I'd marry you? I'd rather die!”
He sneered and raised his brows as he looked her up and down. It was actually pretty terrifying how he seemed completely detached from any logical emotion.
“Would you?”
Scarlet froze. He wouldn't . . .
“I could certainly arrange it.” He shrugged with a small smile. “As it turns out, we have a mutual acquaintance who's quite skilled in that area.”
She had no idea who he was talking about, and honestly, she didn't care. All she needed to do was figure out how to get out of there. If she could get to the dock door, she could make a run for the old silo where she hid for three straight hours as a girl.
She shifted again to a somewhat less miserable position, but failed at keeping the pained gasp in. He laughed again and gestured to her with his head.
“I would loosen them, but your skin looks really good that color.” He checked his phone and smiled. “Plus, I can’t have you getting away before everything’s finalized.”
“Steven, you’re insane! Do you understand that?”
His face fell, the humor gone in an instant, and he stalked straight up to her. Fear clawed down her spine as he bent at the waist and peered at her.
His eyes carried the same glow as the night he tried to rape her, and she shuddered again. She strained against the ropes, and the middle finger of her left hand flicked a loose end. She nearly gasped in joy and fought to grab it with two fingers.
“Am I? Am I insane to take back everything that was stolen from me? To get revenge for my family?”
He slapped his hands down on her legs and braced his weight on them, pushing the already too-tight ropes further into her skin. She cried out, then bit her lip, fighting the sound.
“To secure a place at the top of the hierarchy that SHOULD have been MINE?” He pushed down harder and launched himself back to standing. “It’ll be a good lesson for him to learn from. Keep your fucking nose out of things that don’t concern you.” He wiped his mou
th on the back of his hand and smirked. “Or the ones you love get killed.”
Despite her best effort against them, several tears escaped, and she sucked in a breath. Her arms throbbed, the backward position excruciating. Not to mention her legs.
God, she needed to get out of these damn ropes! She continued to pluck at the string, which was now slightly longer and was within reach of two fingers. She scanned the room, but nothing was near her. There weren’t even any random office supplies on the desk, which didn’t surprise her. To her knowledge, this place wasn’t operational anymore.
He crossed his arms tightly and paced in front of her, looking at his feet as he walked. Did he truly believe he was justified in what he was doing?
“It would have all been mine by now, Scarlet. This entire worthless, fucking town would be eating out of my palm if his father had kept his mouth shut.” He growled as he stepped back over to her and grabbed her face, squeezing her cheeks painfully. “But you’re going to fix all that.”
He scanned her features, for what, she had no idea. If he was looking for contempt and hatred, he’d find it right on the surface, but it wasn’t that apparently. The string was longer now, and she tugged it with four fingers, pulling it slowly.
Her eyes faltered to the door, and he hummed. When she refocused on him, the expression on his face shocked her. Pity? No. Regret? Maybe sadness? His eyes were wild despite his face, so it was hard to tell. Her cheeks ached as he offered her a small smile.
“Remember when you told me you thought I was hot that day?” She rolled her eyes, and he laughed, then squeezed her cheeks harder, causing her to wince. “I realized then if I was patient enough, I could get what I wanted.” He opened his mouth to speak again, but his phone buzzed on the desk, and he shot over to it like a bullet.
Scarlet stretched out her mouth and her neck. She needed a plan. And fast. What was she going to do if she got free? She could try to punch him, maybe. The single lesson Nick gave her flashed in her mind, and she almost laughed.
Steven grunted and slammed the phone down. He turned around to face her, eyes narrowed, and nostrils flared. She swallowed convulsively.
“He’s pissing me off. It’s not a hard choice to make! You or her!”
“Who?” She figured maybe if she kept him talking, she could get more of the string loose. Or somehow convince him to untie her . . . maybe. Yeah, probably not. He chewed on the inside of his mouth, then let out a small laugh and walked back over to her.
“You stupid woman. You really don’t know?”
“Stupi—!”
He grabbed her face again, harder still, and she winced. His already wild eyes widened, taking on a glaze of insanity.
“Someone who’s a killer shot. Someone who’s a damn good fighter . . .”
No!
She sucked in a breath. Nick. He’d been watching Nick. When he noticed the realization on her face, he smirked and released it to stand up. A little more string worked loose.
“It was too easy. A stunning black-haired beauty dropped off right at my doorstep. The sister of someone the boss had been watching for a long time. I just had to keep her to coerce the guy into killing off the competition in a way that could never be traced back to the boss. Honestly, it just pushed my whole timeline closer. I was going to have to do all that myself, but thanks to hoodie guy, everyone’s dead.”
Scarlet’s eyes bugged. It must be Annalise who Steven had as a ‘friend.’ She let out a humorless laugh. “You are way past the point of medication.”
He ignored her, apparently lost in his own psychosis.
“I don’t know what the hell it is with you and walking home. I was told you’d fall into place. You’d be an easy pawn. All you’re supposed to do is sign these papers,” he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded stack of papers, which he slapped down on the desk. “Giving everything you’ve inherited to The Wolf. We sent two guys to collect you, but hoodie guy fucked that up. And then on our date, I was going to take you and hoodie guy fucked that up, too! And I didn’t even realize hoodie guy was our guy until it was too late, or I’d have asked if I could kill him and his brat sister before this got so screwed up. But whatever. I’ve got you now.”
He slapped his hands on the wall beside her head and grinned. “All debts paid, Scarlet. Well, once you sign everything over to me, instead.” He held his hands out wide and grinned. “Your new husband. The hotel, the casino, the money, the weapons. Not his. Mine. Right the hell where they belong.”
The room spun. She didn’t have time to process one thing before Steven threw something else at her. That wasn’t some random attack. This was all some crazy conspiracy. Who the hell is The Wolf?
That meant this was some major . . . what kind of sick . . . and the hotel . . . casino. She didn’t have anything to do with that, no one in her family did. And she sure as hell didn’t have any weapons!
She took a breath to inform him exactly how stupid he was, but before she could a nauseating thought crept in. She swallowed hard.
Her dad. Was he. . .? She squinted, and her neck ached as she hung her head. His face flashed in her mind. His business meetings. The funeral that, in retrospect, clearly had organized crime written all over it. She flicked her eyes around the room and almost laughed. Of course, he brought her to play in a warehouse. She sucked in a breath and held it.
And Nick was the killer. The one in the news. Why didn't he say . . . well, what could he have said? And, why would he? She shook her head. God. No telling what Steven had been putting his sister through. And wait—the breath whooshed out, and she stared at Steven. Nick said he didn’t want to . . . that he didn’t have a choice.
“Did-did you tell him to kill my father?!”
Steven straightened up and shrugged. “Not me. The boss did that one. Was the only one I didn't coordinate.”
She sucked at the air as her anxiety ramped up.
Oh God, Nick. Her heart broke apart inside her, and she willed away more tears. She snarled, rage choking out the sorrow.
“I hate you.”
His smile widened as he traced the back of his index finger down her cheek.
Her skin crawled under his touch, and she gagged. It was crystal clear that Steven was no longer in control of his mind. This was getting dangerous fast.
The rope around her left wrist loosened and hope exploded through her, but she kept calm. He gripped her face again, and she groaned.
“That hurts, you know,” she mumbled through her squeezed lips. He ignored her completely. Probably for the best.
“You’ll learn to love me.” He slowly released her face and brushed his hand down her cheek, then down her neck, maintaining eye contact. “Or you’ll die on our wedding night. After you sign the iron-clad legal papers, of course.”
A shocked, hysterical laugh burst from her mouth.
“You're sick! Like, actually sick in the head! I will never. Never. Never love you. And if you think I’ll sign anything over to you, you’re crazier than I thought!”
He crossed his arms and took a step back.
“How’s it feel to know you were sucking face with a mass murderer?”
She laughed in earnest, and Steven’s upper lip twitched. He must have thought that would wound her deeply or in some way make her feel bad, but he was wrong.
She would have done the same thing to save someone she loved. She would have killed people to save Nick.
She shot off the first snarky comment she could think of as she continued to work at the rope.
“I’ve never kissed you, let alone sucked face with you, Steven. So, I couldn't say.”
He froze and stared at her, mouth dropped open and eyes wide. She didn’t know why, but she was suddenly incredibly sorry she said that.
“You’re right!” He laughed as he stepped back up to her, then grabbed the back of her head.
“Unh! Cut i—”
He pressed his mouth to h
ers, and bile slammed at the back of her throat as her stomach soured. She started to move her head, but he tightened his grip and continued. When he shoved his tongue past her lips, she had a flash of what she thought was brilliance.
She let him in and once his tongue was in the right spot, she clamped her teeth down as hard as she could. The metallic taste did nothing for her nausea but gave her a huge amount of satisfaction . . . which was incredibly short-lived.
His eyes shot open as he screamed, and his hands moved like lightning. They wrapped around her throat, fingers digging into her flesh. She released his tongue as fast as she could, but he didn’t let go. He spat blood on the floor while she struggled to stay conscious. Small white lights flickered at the edge of her vision when he let out a shocked laugh and let her go.
“You,” he spat more blood, “are so fucking lucky I don't want your pretty face messed up.”
He slurred a couple of words as he backed up to lean on the desk again but otherwise seemed unaffected as he refocused on the phone. Maybe his crazy now extended to lack of pain receptors. She spat out his blood too and gagged again.
Stay calm. That’s all she had to do. In all honesty, she would sign whatever he wanted. She couldn’t care less about any of that; she just wanted Nick and Annalise safe.
A few slow breaths helped her regain composure and calm her stomach as she wound her wrist in a stretching motion, straining it to reach to the other rope.
Nick
Black town car.
Nick blinked, clutching the phone so tightly his fingers ached as his mind made desperate grabs for any solution. The only thing that stood out was the slick vehicle that had made a silent exit. She had to have been in there. And he just watched it drive away.
Another tidal wave of sickening guilt slammed into him, but he braced on one thought, one tiny possibility, and the only minuscule chance he, his sister, and Scarlet had.
That was exactly the kind of car favored by organized crime. Exactly the kind of car that had peppered the funeral home parking lot.
Nick chucked the phone on the dash, threw his truck into gear, and peeled out of the spot so fast he left nothing but smoke behind him.