by Kahlen Aymes
The place was a complete dump, the furnishings out of date and run down. It was probably infested with vermin. If this had existed within in the city limits, it probably would have been condemned. Plaster was falling away from the slats on the ceilings and walls, and several of the lights were free-hanging bulbs that were rigged up. No, this wasn’t a posh hideout.
Alex walked through the house, and though he found no one, there were ashtrays with fresh butts in them, dirty dishes piled in the sink, and a dirty fry pan and trash scattered around proved that people had been here recently. Very recently.
Alex noticed a half-open door off the kitchen, and it took effort to push it open because it scraped on the floor. The stairs led down, and Alex stopped as dread flooded him. This would be the basement in the video. This is where she was. But now, there was no sound.
“Angel?” Alex called softly. There was no answer. Would he find her downstairs? The video was taken in a basement. “Angel!” he called again, louder, panic clamping down on his heart and lungs. There was dim light coming up the stairs. He had to know either way, but his heart raced as he made his way cautiously down the stairs. He took three steps down and his eyes landed on the cot in the middle of the room. On the floor in front of it lay the lifeless body of a man. Alex had a brief moment of horror at seeing the still form until it registered that it wasn’t Angel. Though he didn’t make a sound, his free hand landed on his chest as his heart lurched.
Was this one of Swanson’s men? And, how did he end up dead? Alex went down further so he was able to check around the square room and get a closer look at the body. He was a greasy, dirty man in his early twenties, his lifeless eyes staring blankly from his bony face. He looked almost emaciated, like he could have been an addict or ill.
Alex nudged the body with his foot, pushing him over to see what killed him. A trickle of blood coming from one nostril was the only visible injury. No sign of Angel. Where was she? Now, he was consumed with a new worry; how would he track her? What if Swanson had her phone, but Angel wasn’t in the same place? His stomach tightened and his heart fell. He felt like the bottom dropped out from beneath him.
A sudden pain, intense and explosive, burst in his head and light flashed behind his eyes. Alex started to fall, his legs buckling beneath him as he fell to his knees then fully to the floor. His eyes blurred and everything went black.
* * *
When Alex came to, he was sitting down, and his head lolled forward. He couldn’t move. When his mind cleared, he registered that his feet were tied to the legs of a chair and his arms behind is back, bound at the wrists. He couldn’t move them at all; when he tried, ropes cut into his elbows, as well. He was immobilized.
His head throbbed so painfully, as if the top of it would fly off with each beat of his heart. His eyes fluttered and tried to focus; his ears registered someone yelling from the floor above him.
“Boss, she’s got the brat; she couldn’t have gone far.” The voice was gruff and had an uneducated lilt. Alex blinked again. He was looking at his lap and trying to lift his head to search for the sound.
“Find her! Now!”
That voice, Alex recognized. Mark Swanson’s voice came from the kitchen above him. And his words gave him hope. Angel was gone. She’d at least managed to escape the house. She had to be the one who killed the kid still lying on the floor where he’d fallen by the cot.
The chair he was attached to was positioned off to one side, the stairs directly in front of him. Alex shook his head to clear it even though it hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. He had to get out of here, and he had to find Angel and Jillian. The chair was wooden and, like everything else in the house, very old. It wasn’t anchored to the floor. Alex wiggled his ass in the seat to determine if it was solid or if it had any give. It creaked, indicating it wasn’t that strong, but even if he could stand up, the way his ankles were tied prevented him from being able to walk or back up enough to ram the chair into the cinderblock walls of the basement.
If he wanted it broken, he would have to tip the chair over and hope crashing it to the ground would be enough to shatter the wood. Logically, it would be better to wait until he was sure the second man left the house because the loud crash would alert those upstairs. His biceps and triceps bulged and strained as he tried to pull his hands free of the ropes, but there was little give. He grunted as he pulled harder, the ropes burning into his skin. “Fuck!” he murmured softly, frustration threatening to explode his heart.
Ten seconds after the front door to the house slammed, Mark Swanson was coming down the stairs, carrying Alex’s gun. He was smiling sadistically, enjoying Alex’s helpless position.
Alex glared at him viciously.
“Well, well, well,” Swanson murmured, patting the barrel of the gun on the palm of his left hand. “I admit you surprised me, Avery.”
“Then you’re an idiot,” Alex shot back sarcastically.
“You’re hardly in a position to make insults.”
“Fuck you,” Alex spat.
Swanson lifted the gun and used the butt to deliver a vicious blow across Alex’s jaw. His head snapped back with such force, the chair wobbled. Pain exploded again, his neck twisted, and he could taste the saltiness of blood in his mouth.
“See… If I were you, I’d cooperate.”
Alex spit a mixture of blood and saliva on the floor. “It seems you’ve lost your bargaining chip.” He gave a low chuckle that only served to infuriate Swanson further.
“My guy is going to find her, then I’m going to have a little fun with her.”
It took effort, but Alex’s mouth twisted mockingly. “Dream on, dumb ass. Isn’t one dead body enough for you? Angel isn’t exactly a damsel in distress.”
Alex had to keep Swanson distracted, but his mind was flooded with concern for Angel. He could feign bravado, but he was scared shitless. He wondered if Kyle found her and Jillian, and if not, could she get away from the man Swanson had sent after her. He’d been knocked out from behind, so he hadn’t seen him.
Swanson shook his head. “He’s three times the size of this one.” He nodded at the dead kid. “She won’t stand a chance. And, I still have you.”
“That’s true. But, if you kill me, you’ll never get a cent, you stupid son-of-a-bitch.”
The other man huffed. “You have a big mouth for someone tied to a chair with a gun pointed at his head.”
Alex didn’t say anything, just kept his eyes locked on Swanson. He was bleeding and hurting, but there was no way in hell this fucker was going to win. If he died himself, he vowed he’d take Swanson with him.
Alex shrugged nonchalantly and cocked his head to one side. “Because, I still have the upper hand.”
Swanson’s eyes narrowed menacingly. “Really? How so?” His tone bellied sarcasm and arrogance, obviously mocking Alex’s statement.
Alex shook his head. “You don’t get it. You need my money. You fucking lost the thing you had over me.” He let a slow smile slide over his face. “Even if you kill me, I win.”
“When Dennis finds Angel, I’m going to fuck her right in front of you. Then I’ll kill you both. Then I win.”
Alex’s heart began to hammer in his chest. Swanson could do what he wanted to him, but not to Angel. He would rather die than see something happen to her. “If you find her; if she doesn’t drop your other thug. If I don’t get loose and rip your goddamned head off.” Alex’s eyes never wavered as he said the words: his voice solid, stoic, convincing. “That’s a lot of fucking ‘ifs’.” The other man bristled, and Alex drove his point home. “In case you missed it, you don’t have the best luck when it comes to me.”
Mark Swanson’s face mottled with rage, turning a bright red. He still had Alex’s gun, and he could easily hit him again, but Alex couldn’t stop his taunting.
“Between the cops and Marvin Standish, you’ll be hunted down like a dog.” Swanson’s eyes widened at the mention of Standish. “Oh, yeah, I guess I forgot to mention that. Who
do you think told me where to find you?” Alex forced another sly smile. “He doesn’t want you breathing. You’ll either be whacked or be some big motherfucker’s bitch behind bars.” He laughed harshly, still taunting. “If I had my druthers, the latter would be my choice, I admit… However, I’m not all that optimistic.”
Alex knew he was pushing the boundaries of what was safe, and if the other man came back with Angel in tow, they’d all be fucked. His bargaining power would be gone. “You need money. You know that or we wouldn’t be here. The only way you survive is if we make a deal.”
17
Consequences
Angel pulled Jillian close to her body. She could tell from the lack of any light from the cracks in the wood, and the drop in temperature, that the sun had gone down. They were both cold and shaking. Angel had done her best to keep Jillian warm by opening her coat and plastering Jillian up against her chest, then zipping her own coat back up around the little girl. Jillian was asleep after eating the rest of the banana. They both had to go to the bathroom, and Angel had no choice but to risk a trip into the woods earlier but had made it back into the barn, and the wagon, without seeing anyone.
She was nodding off, but then startled when the door to the barn creaked. Instantly, her eyes were open, and she was at full attention. Someone was coming. Her heart sped up in panic, slamming painfully into her breastbone. She inhaled a shuddery breath, holding it as she listened to someone come in and walk around. A flashlight beam moved around, and Angel could see it when it hit high on the walls or the ceiling of the barn. Whoever it was wouldn’t be able to see them inside the wagon unless they climbed up and looked into it. Hope bloomed inside her. Maybe it was Alex. She wanted to jump up and look; she wanted to call his name, but she couldn’t. In case it wasn’t.
Her worst fears were confirmed less than thirty seconds later.
“Come on, girly,” the gruff voice of the bigger of Swanson’s goons called. Her heart sank and fear flooded through her. He wouldn’t be as easy to take down as the skinny crackhead had been. And, her position inside the wagon, while it hid them from sight, left her at a disadvantage. He’d grab her and subdue her if he saw her climbing out. She couldn’t move. “Doctor Hemming! You’ll freeze out here. Think of the kid.”
There was a grunt then the man yelled in pain. “Arghhhhh!”
The thud that followed indicated he’d fallen down. She froze in place, her ears straining to hear what was going on. Had he tripped?
“Stay down, you motherfucker,” a male voice muttered. “Ugh!” he grunted.
Her eyes widened in surprise. Kyle? She recognized that voice.
There was another grunt followed by a few seconds of silence.
“Angel? Are you in here?” Kyle asked. “I said stay down!” he yelled loudly.
Angel thought she was dreaming. She stood up and grabbed the side of the wagon. Jillian was still strapped to her underneath her coat. She peered over the edge.
It was hard to see, but her eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness after hours in the barn, and Angel could make out Kyle’s outline. One foot was pushing against something on the ground. The flashlight, still lit, laid on the ground next to the dark blob that would be the other man.
“Kyle?”
Kyle’s eyes shot in the direction of her voice.
“Angel! Where are you? In the wagon? Are you okay?”
“Yes. We’re cold but okay.” She used her arms, but it would be hard, if not impossible, to climb out with Jillian attached as she was. “Thank God, you’re here. Is that asshole incapacitated?”
“He has a knife in his back and a gun trained at his head, so I guess you could say that.”
“Where’s Alex? I can’t climb out. I have to hand down Jillian first.”
“He went to the house. I’ll have to help you out. Give me a minute.”
Angel was relieved Kyle was there, shocked he’d come with Alex but so thankful. She was also scared shitless Alex might be in that house alone with Mark Swanson. “Kyle, please hurry.”
“Oh, fuck it,” Kyle muttered. There was a low noise of him moving something then another grunt as he removed the knife. He considered his options. He couldn’t leave with the possibility this man would get up and fight. He flipped the gun around, holding it by the barrel, and bashed it as hard as he could against the man’s head. There was a sickening thud and a cracking sound. Kyle grimaced.
Within seconds, the gun was stowed, and he was climbing up and sitting on the edge of the wagon, one leg inside and the other still perched on the tire. “Come on,” he commanded. His arms surrounded Angel and pulled her up until she was sitting next to him. He moved out of the wagon, and scooted back on the tire when both of his feet were in place. “Can you swing your other leg over?”
Angel unzipped her coat, peeling a sleeping Jillian from her chest. With the shared heat missing, Jillian stirred and Angel shivered. “Take her, Kyle.” She quickly handed Jillian over then climbed down behind Kyle. Jillian’s head settled onto Kyle’s shoulder, but when Angel was on the ground, he handed her back to Angel.
“I have to do something with that.” Kyle nodded to man on the dirt floor.
“Is he dead?”
“If we’re lucky.”
“Jesus, this is so surreal. We have to help Alex!” She was anxious.
“He sent me to the barn when he went to the house. When we got here, there were no cars. I saw them drive in and hid on the backside of this barn. There were only two of them. They went in then this asshole came out here.”
“There were only three of them, so Swanson is the only one left.”
“What happened to the third one?”
“He’d dead. I fought him.” Kyle wasn’t surprised at her calm strength, but he was in awe she could fight like that. “Let’s go.”
Kyle shook his head and touched Angel’s arm. “Alex made me promise to get you out of here before I did anything else.”
“Do you have a car?”
“Yes and no. We walked in. The element of surprise would’ve been lost if we drove in.”
“How far away is it?”
“I’d say a good four or five miles out.” They were now at the door to the barn, and Kyle was peering out. “I don’t see any sign of Alex, but there is a light on in the house.”
“Take Jillian out, Kyle. I can’t have something happen to her. I’d never forgive myself.”
“Angel, we’ll all go. Come on.”
“No!” she said frantically, shaking her head. “Someone has to help Alex.” Her eyes flooded with tears and she choked up. “You don’t know how ruthless Mark Swanson is! He takes pleasure in torturing people.”
“Then you take Jillian out, and I’ll go in for Alex.”
“I don’t know where to find the car; you have to do it.”
Kyle put his hands on his hips and glanced up before looking back at her. “Angel, there is no way in hell I’m leaving you here. That’s crazy.”
Angel’s hand reached out. “We can’t argue about this; we have to do something! Now.”
“Okay, well, this guy is toast, so you’ll be safe in here with Jillian. I’ll go.”
She shoved Jillian back at Kyle. “No. I know the layout of the house. You don’t. I can sneak up on him easier and faster than you can. Please, Kyle.” Her eyes were pleading from her bruised face. “Please.” Her voice was laced with desperation.
He sighed. He could see her point, but it went against his better judgment to let her go in alone. If only they didn’t have the kid to deal with. “What if we put her in the back of that old Cadillac?”
Angel shook her head adamantly. “No. That’s the car they brought us here in. If he manages to get away from us, he’ll take off with her in the backseat. I can’t risk that, Kyle. Please! We’re wasting time.”
Kyle pulled the gun from his waistband, cocked it, and handed it to her. She took it automatically, but she didn’t want to use it. “Kyle, we can’t shoot him. I de
al with this shit all the time, and we can’t use guns.”
“You can if it’s self-defense.”
Depended on the circumstances, her mind argued. The way the fucking laws were written, who knew what would happen. She couldn’t shoot Mark Swanson in the back, but that would be the easiest way. “Okay. Thank you, Kyle.” She touched his face with her empty hand.
She opened the door to the barn without another word and raced across the yard as fast as her legs would carry her. At the door to the house, she gripped the gun in both hands and pushed through it. Angel wasn’t prepared when Mark Swanson charged up the stairs toward her. He was armed with a large handgun that she didn’t remember seeing before. She raised the gun and tried to steady it with both hands. His was larger and more menacing than the one she’d trained on him, and it was pointed right at her. Adrenaline rushed through her veins.
“Stop right there.”
Mark Swanson stopped abruptly; his eyes taking in the gun in Angel’s hand; he smiled wickedly. Her hands were shaking and he saw that. She was small, and she barely eaten in almost a day and a half. She would be weak.
“Come now, Angel.” He took another step toward her. “Let’s be reasonable, before you get hurt.” Anger welled up inside her as she lifted the gun higher. He’d beaten and threatened her repeatedly, and with no sign of Alex in sight, he had to have been hurt, or worse.
“I said stop!” she yelled. “Alex?” she called loudly. “Alex!”
“Downstairs,” he called. That voice was even more beautiful then she remembered. Her breath left in a grateful rush at the sound of his voice. Thank God.
Swanson, starting toward her, still held the gun up in his hand and trained it at her. She didn’t think, only reacted. Angel’s fingers squeezed the trigger and a shot rang out, sending one bullet slamming into Mark Swanson’s upper right chest. He staggered backward, looking stunned, and his arm holding the gun dropped to his side. His fingers relaxed and the large gun fell to the floor, clattering on the old tile floor of the kitchen.