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Liv
TheelevatoropensandImeetMarkinthelobbyofmyofficebuilding.Hegreetsmewithahugandasmileandasksmeaboutmyday.Weentertheparkinggarageandclimbtothethirdfloor.I’mchattingawaywhenMarkpullsmetoanabruptstop.
I startle when I see Scotty approaching us with another man. “Stay close. Push the alarm. Now.” Mark’s voice is firm, focused.
I grip the strap of my purse and grab my phone as I move behind him. My heart pounds in my ears as I hold my thumb against the screen of my phone. Mark silences his alarm.
Scotty regards me with that slimy grin. “This is your last chance, Little Peach. Be with me. I promise you won’t regret it.” He gropes himself, and I cringe.
“You’re a fucking idiot. Luke is going to destroy you,” Mark says.
Scotty turns his full attention to Mark, his glare intense. “He already has.”
His intense gaze sweeps to me and Mark tenses, moving both of us backward as Scotty keeps approaching. Mark moves his jacket aside and puts his hand on his weapon.
“It’s ironic, really. Luke and I are the same. Our moms are both dead. The only difference is that mine died because of greedy assholes like James Reilly.” His eyes bore into Mark, and his grin turns feral, sending icy fingers up my spine. “And only I know who killed Luke’s mom.”
Mark curses as two other men rush from behind us. Mark shoves me out of the way, sacrificing precious seconds to get his weapon out of the holster. It gets knocked to the ground and slides a few feet away. Mark throws punches as they swarm him from all sides. They get into a violent scuffle as Scotty grabs me, pinning my arms to my side and pushing my back up against the rear of a nearby van. I watch over Scotty’s shoulder as Mark takes a hit, but returns it tenfold. The sickening crunch of a bone breaking echoes off the concrete pillars followed by a wail of pain that doesn't belong to Mark. I try to wiggle from Scotty’s grasp, but he’s stronger than he looks. I bring my knee up, but he dodges it, pushing the length of his body against mine. His stale cigarette breath invades my lungs, and I wince as his grip tightens.
“It’s a real shame women end up paying the price for the sins of the men in their lives. I just want you to know this isn’t personal. You’re a gorgeous girl, Liv. I bet you’re a real sweetheart, too. But he needs to pay for what he did.”
I shake my head and try to reason with him. “You can still stop this. Don’t let your mother’s death be in vain. She wouldn’t want this for you. Let me help you.”
He searches my face, considering, and I glimpse humanity underneath the hurt. But it fades the moment I see it. His dead eyes return and he shakes his head.
“Her death demands justice. You’re the one who will give me that.”
His face hardens. Fear replaces my pity as he sneers at me. “When the time comes, don’t fight it, Little Peach. It will be easier for you.” He pulls my earlobe into his mouth and pants into my ear. I cringe away from him, but he only chuckles. I meet his gaze in horror as the magnitude of what he’s saying sinks in.
The fighting stops and we both turn to the men just as one thug points Mark’s gun at him. Mark stands with his hands raised as the other two thugs lean over and try to catch their breaths. The guy with the gun gets cocky and approaches Mark, pushing the barrel against his chest. “Not so tough now, huh asshole?”
Scotty turns to me and tilts his head. “Ready to watch your friend die?”
“No!” My scream echoes around the parking garage, and almost too fast to track, Mark slams his hand against the man's wrist. The gun spins into Mark’s waiting grip. He fires a shot into the guy's arm, the discharge making my ears ring as the thug howls and falls backwards.
Scotty glances behind him, then turns back to me. I tense my muscles and slam my forehead into his nose as hard as I can. Another deafening gunshot echoes around the space as Scotty screams in agony, falling against the car next to us as he clutches his nose. Blood pours between his fingers and tears stream from his eyes.
I sink down onto the bumper of the van and grip the edge, dizzy from the blow. The guy who got shot in the arm is laying on his back, gripping his wound as he groans. Another man is nursing a wound in his leg.
“On the ground, fuckface. Palms on the pavement,” Mark snarls to the third guy, the gun trained on him. Scotty bolts for the stairs. Mark glances over at him as he disappears into the stairwell, unable to follow him because I would be alone with thug number three.
He assesses me, his chest heaving and blood trickling out of his nose. “Are you ok?”
“Yea, I think so.”
“Call the cops.”
I find my purse on the ground nearby and pull my phone out to dial 911, taking calming breaths to get my adrenaline under control. We’re both alive. It’s going to be ok. I tell them my bodyguard has apprehended two attackers at gunpoint and our location. Sirens blare down the street.
“Come on, man, we’re just doing what they paid us to do. Let us go and we’ll give you the money,” thug number three says from his prone position.
“Shut it,” Mark barks and the guy sighs but stays quiet.
Mark glances at me. “Are you bleeding?” he asks, and I follow his gaze and find blood spattered across my blouse.
“It’s not mine. I head butted him.”
The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Smart move.”
