by Nicole Fox
I’m not going to go out like that, sobbing in the back seat of some shady police officer’s cruiser. No, I have to think. I have to plan. If Konstantin wants to kill me, he’s going to have to break a sweat. He won’t take me out as easily as he did Mom and Dad.
Fuck that.
Chapter Sixteen
Roman
A sense of calm takes over as I drive. During times like these, I find myself zoning out. It’s a break from the endless plotting I do on a daily basis. I don’t feel stress. I don’t feel anything. Just the lack of thought. The emptiness. I don’t need to worry anymore. Lucy is out of the picture. She’ll hate me, but she’ll be safe. All that’s left to do is kill Konstantin and put this shit behind me.
I take the scenic route, looking at the city. This place is a lot different than home. Back in Russia, we lived far away from the main town. We didn’t have to deal with traffic, shouting civilians, or homeless people. We had all of that, of course, but it wasn’t so in your face. Here, this place is a shit show. It’s a nightmare.
I’ve made the city a home, but if everything burned down and I had to relocate, I’d be fine with that. Nobody cares where I go. Nobody except Mr. X, that is. I doubt he’d be pleased if I suddenly moved away. Not that I would run the risk. He holds what I did to my uncles over my head all the time. Part of me fantasizes about offing him.
I could get rid of him and solve the problem of being his professional bitch. Without him around, I wouldn’t have to answer to anyone or be exclusively tied to just one man. I know people all over this city want to work with me.
I’ve been approached by everyone and their dog. It doesn’t matter how or why, but people know about my reputation. They run when they see me coming, whether it be away from me or towards me. But when they find out who I work for, they always show their disappointment.
I’ve had people offer seven figures for an assignment before, and I’ve had to turn it down. That kind of money could change a person’s life, and here I am, spitting in their face. Telling them their money’s no good. That I don’t want to be set for life. It’s fucking ridiculous.
Maybe I’ll change my rates once I get done with Konstantin. I’ll head back to Mr. X’s spot and tell him the prices have gone up. After all, I’ve have just taken out a major annoyance for him. I’ll have some leverage. Whether he sees it that way is another story entirely.
I glance at the fuel light and realize I need to fill up soon.
The detour is quick, and I pull into a gas station not too far away. I climb out and make my way up front to the cashier. Slapping a fifty on the table, I give him the number of the pump station I’m at, then go looking for something to eat. Nothing here is appetizing, but I settle for a bag of chips and a hot dog.
The teenage cashier scans my items, his flitting gaze falling on me a few times. He looks intimidated. Good. When I pay for the food, I grab it before he can ask if I’d like a bag or not. I stop outside by the gas pump to take a bite of the hot dog. It’s nowhere near as satisfying as I want it to be, but it’ll work.
I start to fill up the tank when I get a call. I dig my phone out of my pocket. The phone number is unfamiliar. No one but Mr. X and a few close acquaintances, like the one I hired to watch Lucy’s grandmother, have this number.
“Hello?” I answer cautiously.
“Hello, Roman.”
“Who the fuck is this?”
“You know who it is. The man you’ve been spending the last few weeks following.”
There’s no way in hell Abram Konstantin got my phone number. I don’t even know how that would be possible. “What are you talking about?”
“Cut the shit,” he says. “You know what I’m talking about. Mr. X sent you to kill me. I’m not particularly interested in seeing that play out. That’s why I have your girlfriend.”
“What?”
“Lucy Walker. Right now, she’s being transported to my warehouse. She’s going to be fun to have around while we wait for you. You’d better hurry up and get to me before I get bored of her. When I get bored of my toys, I have a tendency to dispose of them.”
“Don’t you fucking touch her, you bastard,” I growl.
Konstantin only laughs. “I’ll do as I please with the girl. You just worry about getting here before I finish playing with her. You’ll have the address soon.”
Without another word, the line goes dead. Feeling sick to my stomach, I throw the hot dog to the ground and hurry back into the car, turning on the ignition. My phone buzzes, and when I check it, I see that Konstantin has texted me the address of his location. It’s far out of town, but I can be there soon.
I thought she’d be safe. That’s why I tied Lucy to the bed and left her there. She was supposed to be rescued by the police and taken home. Her involvement in all of this was supposed to be minimal. She’d forget about me years down the road. Her life would go back to normal. But I’ve dragged her deeper. I’ve gotten her kidnapped. She was a sitting fucking duck because of me.
“Fuck!” I shout, slamming my fist down on the steering wheel.
It takes a few moments for me to regain my composure. I want to lash out. I want to break something. Smash it to pieces. But I can’t. I have to get to her. I have to rescue her from this shit that I put her in in the first place.
I put my car in drive and speed out of the gas station, nearly clipping a car on my way out. My brain is on autopilot again, only it’s different this time. It’s not because I’m driving aimlessly. I now have a mission. What I planned to do later in the day has been moved forward. Konstantin isn’t going to die late at night. He’ll be dead by seven o’clock.
I try not to speed. The last thing I need to deal with is a bunch of fucking cops breathing down my neck, asking why I was driving so fast. It’s enraging, this traffic, but I have to keep calm. I consider taking a shortcut that will get me to the warehouse faster, but I have to head back to my storage unit first. I can’t go in there without weapons.
My father pops into my mind.
I haven’t thought of the old coot’s anecdotes in a while, but one comes back to me as I swerve through lanes, trying to get around people taking their sweet precious time.
He told me the story of how he met my mother when I was younger. I must’ve just started going through puberty because it was during ‘the talk.’
But the story about Mom was different.
He stopped the uncomfortable jokes and looked me in the eye like a man. Like he wasn’t talking to his kid. Just another adult.
He told me that he met her at a wedding for one of his friends. He wasn’t interested in going, but she begged him to be there. The thing was a disaster. Everyone was late, it rained, and some drunk uncle of his friend’s fell face-first into her wedding cake before they could even cut it. Everything went wrong until the moment he met Mom.
She was the one good thing about the party. Soaked through in her soft pink dress, she looked so uncomfortable that Dad almost didn’t talk to her. He didn’t want to disturb her when she was already having such a shit day.
But when he did go over to her, she seemed to brighten up. She wanted to know who he was and how he was connected to the family. They spent the rest of the night talking, and for the following days of the wedding celebration, they were attached at the hip.
They started as friends.
They were close, but he didn’t want to do anything to fuck it up. He wanted to take his time. As he put it, he was a dog at that time. He had no problems sleeping around. In fact, he’s probably where I got it from. He and Mom never slept together. For the longest time, they were just friends. They had inside jokes. They had secret handshakes. It was all so sweet that I remember groaning as a kid when he told me about it.
It took him a while to get to the point, but he eventually reached it.
He looked me in my eyes and told me that when I grew up and loved someone, I would have to protect her no matter what. It was my job to keep her safe. When it came
to Mom, he would do anything. He would move mountains. He’d kill anyone that ever caused her harm. And I believed him. My dad was tough as nails, but he got soft every time he talked to Mom. The fact that he would do anything to keep her safe was the proof he needed. He realized that, and he married her as soon as he could. He couldn’t run the risk of her finding someone better than his sorry ass.
After they got married, they had me.
I remember thinking his story was stupid. Girls didn’t interest me. No, I was focused on school and hunting. Still too young, just barely learning what hormones could do to a boy, I didn’t get it.
I do now.
Driving through the streets, weaving in and out of traffic, I know what Dad meant.
I should’ve never let it get this far, but the truth is that I love Lucy. I fucking love her. She didn’t ask for any of this. She didn’t ask for me to kidnap her and take her to a hotel. She didn’t ask to be involved like this, where her life was on the line. I have to save her, and I don’t care how many motherfuckers I have to take down to do that.
When I finally make it to the storage unit, I drive in through the back, trying to reduce the amount of people that see me. Luckily, the unit is one of the furthest in the back, out of the line of sight of cameras. I park and climb out of the car.
I lift up the door and then quickly close it behind me after I’m inside. There’s a small light in the unit, and I use that to start stocking up. I know that I won’t have time for reloading, so I have to bring more guns than I normally might.
This is going to be a suicide mission, I can already tell that much. It doesn’t matter, so long as Lucy comes out okay.
I lift up my shirt and slide a pistol into the holster I have underneath the shirt. The bigger guns and knives will have to go inside the car. I grab a blanket from the top of a few boxes and wrap two assault rifles inside.
Quickly, I hurry to my car and set the guns down in the back. I look over my shoulder, careful of anyone watching. The coast is clear so far.
When I return to the storage unit, I move on to explosives. I don’t have many, but there are a few grenades. Some of them are meant for stunning people, and I make sure to pack plenty of those. I sling the backpack over my shoulder, and before I leave, I grab my shotgun. I don’t know if I’ll need it or how I’ll carry it with everything else, but just in case.
Konstantin is going to have the place crawling with goons. People that have nothing to live for and figure it’s worth the risk to kill me. They’re all probably slaves to the money the same way I was. Those people, ones with nothing to lose, are the ones I have to worry about the most.
When I get back to the car, I put everything in the back seat and start to pull away. Just then, a security guard walks around the corner and approaches my car.
“Fuck,” I mutter. I roll my window down when he’s close enough.
“How ya doing tonight, sir?” he asks me. I see him glance into my back seat and tilt my body, trying to block his view.
“Not too bad, and yourself?”
“Can’t complain. It’s gonna be a long night.”
“I bet,” I say. I force a fake laugh, but he doesn’t return it. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
“Just doing my rounds. Haven’t had too many people out here this late. We’re actually closed for the night.”
“Oh really?” I look at the watch on his hand. It’s half past six. “What time do you normally close?”
“Six on weekdays,” he says.
“Ah. I had no idea. I’m so sorry about bothering you. The gate out back was opened so I just assumed.”
“Yup, saw you on the cameras and figured I’d come out here and talk to you.” He looks around, then down back at me. “What do you have back there?”
“Hm?”
“In your back seat, sir. You seem awfully nervous.”
I look back at the blanket and say, “Just some old antiques for a friend’s grandmother. She said she collects them, and I figure it’d get me some bonus points if I do something nice for her grandma. I hear women like when you’re nice. Makes it easier to get in their pants.”
The security guard gives a real chuckle, and I try not to roll my eyes. Of course his dumb ass would find that terrible joke funny. Idiot.
“Ain’t that the truth? Listen, let me get out of your hair then. Don’t wanna hold you up from getting some ass.”
“You’re a good man,” I say, nodding at him.
When he starts to walk away, I slide my hand off the holster of my gun. He doesn’t realize how close he was to being shot right. I don’t have time for this shit. Luckily for him, he made the right decision to mind his own fucking business.
I wait until he walks back to the main office before I start my car again. I head to the back exit and turn left onto the street.
As I drive, I take a moment to collect myself and get my head in the game. This is going to be like the diner again. It’s been a minute since I’ve done anything this messy, and messy it’s going to be. I predict a lot of bodies. A lot of people dying for this son of a bitch. I almost feel sorry for them, but every time I do, I imagine Lucy.
She must be terrified. After all these years, Konstantin has her. He could kill her just as easily as he killed her family. I have to stop him for good. There’s no way I’m going to let him touch a hair on her head.
Over my dead fucking body.
A sense of calm starts to settle over me. The closer I get to the address in the text, the more resolved I become. This is finally happening. Maybe it’s not what I planned, but the plan is still in motion. It’s simple. Kill Abram Konstantin. Rescue Lucy. Get out with as few scratches as possible.
I grip the steering wheel harder and feel my heart rate start to slow. Every second I drive, I get closer to Konstantin’s warehouse. Closer to putting an end to this once and for all. There’s no more time left.
It all ends tonight.
Chapter Seventeen
Lucy
The ride is bumpy, and I lay back, staring at the roof of the car, waiting for the inevitable. It feels like we’re starting to get closer to wherever it is this man is taking me. I thought maybe, by some kind of miracle, Roman would manage to intercept us, but he hasn’t come. I don’t know if he ever will.
That thought is a twisting knife in my heart. It’s stupid, but I really did have feelings for him. I thought that after all of this was done, something might actually happen between us. I should be concerned with myself and with the fact that the man I’ve dedicated my entire life to has finally beaten me, but it’s almost like... I don’t care at all.
I can only think about Roman and Nana.
Who’s going to take care of her if I die? Who’s going to be there for her when she needs help getting in and out of the shower? Or pick up groceries? Or even just talk to her whenever she’s feeling lonely? I can’t imagine her living on her own, mourning the death of her last living relative. It’s too painful.
All I can do is plan for how I’m going to get out of this. Konstantin has already taken so much from me. My parents. My childhood. He doesn’t get to take anything else. No fucking way.
Up front, the officer says, “You’re awfully quiet back there.”
I don’t say a word. Fuck him. He only wants to goad me into a reaction.
“C’mon, what happened to that fighting spirit, Lucy?” he chuckles.
For the rest of the ride I fantasize about killing him.
If I could manage to get my arms out of these ties, I’d jump up front and jerk the steering wheel to the left, throwing us into oncoming traffic on the highway. It would be an instant death for him, but I just might make it out alive.
If my hands were tied in front of me, I’d throw my hands over his head and use the ropes to choke him to death. That might also end in a car accident, but my probability of surviving would be much higher.
I could maybe even grab his gun and put a bullet in his head before he realiz
ed it. Quick, easy. It wouldn’t be my first time shooting a man dead. It’s almost scary to think that I’m the same person. Three weeks ago, the sight of the man I shot left me traumatized. Now, if I could manage to get his gun off him and empty the clip into his back, I’d be proud. I don’t know who I’ve become.
The officer begins to slow down, and I feel my stomach sink. We’re here. Time’s up.
He parks and climbs out of the vehicle, slamming the door shut behind him. For a long time, nothing happens. I lie waiting, praying for some kind of miracle. Then the back door opens and a man’s shadow fall over me.
“Come on,” he says, reaching in. I struggle the entire time, fighting him as he tries to pull me out of the car. I even manage to roll around and throw a kick at him, only he’s faster than me. He catches my foot and tugs hard, yanking me onto the pavement.
“Get the fuck up,” he mutters, grabbing my shoulders. My head is slightly spinning, but I manage to stand upright.
“Where are we?”
“This is where Konstantin does all his business,” he replies.
There isn’t anything around for miles besides rows and rows of what look to be abandoned warehouses. I’ve never been to this part of town, but clearly nothing good ever happens down here. I can imagine all kinds of horrible things that Konstantin has done out here. It’s secluded, and something tells me if I tried to scream for help, nobody would be able to hear me. We’re all alone out here.
“Let’s go,” he says, pushing me forward. I take an uneasy step, but I don’t have time to adjust before he gets sick of me and starts dragging me.
The warehouse inside is bustling with people, and all eyes fall on me when we enter. Most seem to look away or head back to work when they see me, but a few stop and watch, seemingly amused. Long tables full of weapons are set out, and men of all ages and races work, counting money, packing away bricks of white powder into backpacks. Konstantin is worse than I ever thought possible.