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As prepared as I can be, I head to the garage, where I know they keep half a dozen cars, and choose a Mercedes SUV. More compact than what they usually drive but big enough to handle the icy and likely snow-covered roads since it hasn’t stopped snowing since last night.
With only forty minutes left to reach the location, I swallow my nerves, quit worrying about where everyone else is, and leave the safety of the only place that’s ever felt like home in the hopes that we all come back alive.
* * *
Levan
I’ve been awake long enough for the confusion from whatever drug we were administered to wear off, and I’m left with a pounding headache from my skull bouncing off the glass as we rolled from the accident. I remember headlights and waking up tied up in the back of a cargo van, with Val unconscious and Zak looking more beat up than ever, but I haven’t a fucking clue who hit us or why.
Never mind that I’m currently bound to a chair and unable to move. Tape covers my mouth, so I can’t even call out to my friends to see how coherent they are. I’ve yet to fully entertain the thought of whoever has done this going after Abilene because it will send me into a spiraling rage that won’t help our situation. Considering that before we left last night, I had spoken with Ana about surprising everyone by sending her,bebia, and half the staff in search of every Christmas decoration known to man and the other half to find the perfect tree to cut down and bring home for Abi to decorate. It was meant to be a surprise for when she awoke in the morning. Now she’s all alone.
So I sit, I wait, and I bide my time. Eventually, someone will come in here and reveal their identity. When that happens, nothing will stop me from annihilating them and making them wish they never chose this path of destruction they’re hellbent on following.
The room we’re in is barren, windows are boarded up, the carpet looks like it’s seen better days, and we’re being watched. It’s why I haven’t lifted my head too much; I don’t want them to notice I’m awake. Not yet. The camera is cheap, thankfully. I can hear the whirring as it comes to life every few minutes.
Groaning from my left signals that Val’s waking up. Shifting my eyes to him, I notice him assessing things like I did before making eye contact. His blaze with fury despite the discernable confusion I see in them. My gaze darts over to where the camera is mounted in the corner, and it only takes him a few seconds before he catches on and locates it. Remaining still, our only advantage is trying to fool them into thinking we’re still out.
But with each passing minute that we’re left alone, it makes me want to start busting myself free. I’ve done a quick check, and nothing feels broken from the accident, unlike Zak, who still hasn’t regained consciousness. Val’s impatience gets the best of us, and before I implore him not to, he throws his chair backwards, obviously wanting something on it to break in order to gain us the freedom we want and need.
Never in all my years of dealing with shady shit have I ever been close to being in the position I am now, and I find a deep-seated hatred for being so easily captured. We’ve put the fear of God into one too many people over the last decade for any of them to even think about trying something so audacious.
Footsteps can be heard, and then a key in a lock. Evidently, Val’s commotion grabbed their attention. He glares at me to pretend to remain unconscious so we can discover who is behind this. Evening out my breathing, I close my eyes and relax my body, waiting for their entrance.
“Not who I thought was going to kick up a fuss.” I hear the voice and immediately know who it is and why this is happening. There is going to be some serious hell to pay.
* * *
Abilene
Staring at the bag on the seat next to me, I’d be a fool to bring it along. Whoever is behind the door of the rundown house will take it from me as soon as the door opens. Which means I must be creative with where I hide some of the weapons. I’m not an expert sleuth, but I’ve heard and seen enough in my life to understand that whoever sent for me would assume I have weapons and search my body.
The problem is, I don’t know which will be helpful in the situation until I get in there. Especially if there’s more than one person behind this entire thing. So I select one of the smaller knives in its sheath and put it in my shirt, hiding it under my bra, while sliding one of the bigger ones into my pocket. I slip another one into the side of my shoe to rest along the length of my foot. There’s no way to conceal a gun, so I just put the weapon in my other pocket.
Staring down at the grenade, I still don’t know how I convinced myself it was a good idea to bring it, but I stuff it in my bra as well. My cleavage is plentiful enough to conceal it, and I feel sick over the possibility of it going off whether I pull the pin or not. Donning the oversized coat I brought with me, I palm the heftier gun and shove it in the small of my back. I can only hope to hold onto at least one weapon.
I have no idea how I’m going to be the one to save the day, but I’m determined to show these men that I can take care of them just as well as they do me. Quietly closing the car door, I muster all my courage and prepare for the fight of my life as I cross the street and walk up the rickety steps of the house before opening the door.
I already decided I wasn’t going to knock; they know I’m coming. What’s the point in giving them an even bigger heads-up that I’ve arrived? Entering the house, I hear water dripping from a tap and a voice mumbling from another room. Doing my best to close the door silently, I tiptoe to the edge of a wall. The house is void of furniture, so I assume whoever has them doesn’t reside here.
Peeking around the corner, I look in both directions, noticing that one way leads into an open room where the voice is coming from, and the other is a hallway lined with three closed doors. I haven’t the faintest idea which direction to take, so I chance it and head towards the voice, if only to see who it is and if the men are in there as well.
Surprisingly, the floors don’t squeak under my weight, giving me an advantage I desperately need. Stopping short of the entrance to the occupied room, I inhale a deep breath before throwing a cursory glance around the corner. Valerian lies tied up in the middle of the room. His eyes are open but unfocused, and there’s dried blood on the side of his face and neck.
Drawing back quickly as I see a woman circling him, I notice his body tense when his eyesight settles on me. She doesn’t notice, just keeps on mumbling, and I find myself growing angry and resentful as I listen to her talking to herself.
Val’s eyes dart towards the hall, indicating that Levan and Zak must be behind one of the closed doors I saw. Nodding my understanding, I don’t want to leave him, but his glare screams everything his taped-up mouth can’t. To get the hell out of there. Hoping he can see what I feel in my own gaze, I turn around and leave as quietly as I came. Cracking the first door open, I see it’s an empty bathroom. The second is locked, so I try the third before I even think about picking a lock.
Thankfully, the third is exactly what I’m looking for, and I see Levan’s stiff body slumped to the side and Zak’s broken one tied up in another chair. “Levan?” I whisper as I close the door.
His head snaps up like a cracked whip, and in his eyes is a matching fire to Valerian’s when he recognizes me. The glare he shoots me is so intense that I take a step back before recovering. Undoubtedly, he doesn’t want me here, but I think it has more to do with me being in danger than not wanting to see me.
I hope.
“Val’s fine,” I whisper. He nods but keeps his eyes on the door behind me. Retrieving the sharpest-looking knife from my pocket, I pull the tape off his mouth before I begin cutting at the rope around his ankles.
“You are in so much shit for this,” he hisses down at me. I glance up to catch his eyes watching me, and the hint of admiration has me shrugging. “Don’t be so fucking cavalier,chemo sikharulo, your ass has a date with my hand.”
“Not before it has a date with a bullet.” A new voice surprises us both because we didn’t hear her approach. “Step back, Abilene.” Slicing through the rest of the rope first, I do as she says. This wasn’t part of my half-cocked plan. “Drop the knife.” She waves her gun at the floor. “Now, step over there.”
