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“Now, now, that sounds like a private conversation, don’t you think? Come on. Do me a favor and come talk to me. I’ve got a friend waiting to pick you up.”
“Where’s Olivia?”
Holly sighs. Irritation begins to creep into her tone. “Reese. Sweetheart. If you don’t come out in the next five minutes, you won’t like the new answer to that question.”
“Listen here, you fucking?—”
All the high society politeness is gone from her voice now. She’s snarling. Feral. “I don’t care if this slut is carrying your child and I don’t care if you love her—I will make sure she takes a bullet somewhere so bad that neither she nor that little demon spawn you put in her survives. That is, unless you do what I say.”
My first thought is violence. She’s totally fucking serious. Unhinged, but serious. But so am I. I could kill this woman so easily. Wrap my own fingers around her throat and strangle her until the life drains out of her body.
No one threatens what’s mine. No one.
But I can’t just call her bluff. Not here. Not until I can assess things better and figure out what actually hangs in the balance.
“Don’t think too hard, darling. You might hurt yourself. You hockey boys don’t have many brain cells left, after all!”
I grunt, “Where are you?”
Holly laughs, obviously pleased with herself. “Good boy. Come outside, then around the back. I’ll have someone pick you up.”
The line goes dead.
I shove my phone in my pocket, trying to think. Cops—nah. I don’t even know where Olivia is, if Holly’s bluffing, or what. There’s no time to scheme. There’s only time to do what this bitch says until I get Olivia in my arms.
Then I’ll go fucking scorched earth on her.
I bypass the manager, who seems confused about me hitting the road, but I don’t have a second to spare for explanations. I book it out of the restaurant, taking a sharp turn right when I’m outside.
While the front is well lit, I can’t say the same about the rear of the building. I get bathed in darkness and pull out my phone to use it like a flashlight.
It feels like a terrible Eighties slasher movie. The silence, the slight chill in the air as the main protagonist does a really stupid thing that everyone watching knows is a bad idea. But he’s bullheaded and refuses to be scared off by the obvious life-and-death situation.
“Alright, Holly, quit fucking around, I’m here?—”
From my peripheral, I catch movement. I side-step just in the nick of time. The person stumbles, grabbing air instead of me.
He’s built just like the fucker that attacked me weeks ago. It’s him. It has to be.
I see red. This is my advantage. Unlike that night, I’m not caught off-guard. I know some shit is up, and I’ve got enough anger in me to propel me forward into the guy. I grab him by the front of his shirt and slam him against the wall behind us.
“Where the fuck is Olivia?” I growl in his face. “Tell me where she is!”
The son of a bitch just laughs. “Dunno, mate. I’m just here for you.”
I snarl and headbutt him. Something goes crunch. I’m seeing stars, so I know he has to be, too. I slam him again, using all my strength to raise him up off the ground in the process.
“I’ll fuckin’ kill you,” I snarl. “You and that bitch Holly, I’ll?—”
A sudden, sharp pain stabs into my throat. A needle of some kind. The plunger goes, a cold liquid rushes beneath my skin, and every muscle in my body tenses, seizing up without my control.
I drop the guy and I drop right along with him. I can feel everything. The gravel on the ground bites into the side of my face and my ears ring like a struck gong. But I can’t move.
I beg any limb to function. My arms so I can push myself up. My legs so I can move.
Nothing works. Not a goddamn thing.
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