“Nothing.” Peter wrenched his gaze away. “Look, man. I’m truly sorry about this.” His green eyes clouded with sorrow.
Zack snorted. “Which part? Leaving threatening notes in Amy’s locker, stalking her at school, using Susan to threaten Amy, or using Amy to get to me?”
Peter bit his lip. “I had nothing to do with that.”
“Nothing to do with what? The note?”
“I had nothing to do with using her.” Peter gestured at Susan. “I told them they were way out of line.”
Zack’s short temper simmered just below boiling point. So Peter had a conscience, but what good was a conscience if he refused to listen to it? “And yet you used her anyway.”
Peter flinched. “She reminds me of my sister.”
Zack furrowed his brow. A lifetime ago, he and Peter had been best friends. They had stopped hanging out in fifth grade, around the same time Peter began slumming it with Nathan Johnson. Zack hadn’t seen Peter’s sister much since they were kids. She had died in a car accident last year.
Zack raised an incredulous brow. “Amy reminds you of Julia?” Peter’s sister had been happy and sweet. Amy was many things, but she was not sweet.
“No. Susan.”
Zack blew out a long, irritated breath. Peter had a point. Julia Jenkins had been a year younger than them. She’d had starry blue eyes, bouncy butterscotch curls, and a light-up-the-world smile that made you want to smile too. Five minutes with her made your day. She and Susan looked nothing alike, but both girls had the same bubbly personality and charismatic bounce.
His heart gave a feeble twinge of loss. He bulldozed past it on a surge of frustrated blame. Why had Peter brought her up? Julia’s death had nothing to do with what his stupid gang had done to Susan, Amy, and him. “Save it for your therapist.”
They passed the next few hours in taut, angry silence. Peter stared out the window; Zack stared at Amy. Soft ebony hair framing her delicate face. Thick, dark lashes resting against fair, creamy skin. She was beautiful and he had never noticed her. Was his field of view really that narrow? Was his hot girl radar so damaged it only picked up snobby, rich bitches? He stretched out a hand to touch the top of hers. Her chest rose and fell with the regularity of gentle, lapping waves. Her breathing was even but shallow. Was she still hurting? Concern for her flooded his chest.
Susan was sleeping fitfully as well. Her fingers had curled into small, ineffectual fists, and she whimpered softly as she dreamed. Her once tranquil smile had been replaced with a tense frown. The rough ropes chafed against her tiny wrists as she tossed and turned. Peter bit his lip and untied her. Susan mumbled something in her sleep and rolled onto her side, her head almost in Peter’s lap. He stared at her and didn’t move.
Zack pursed his lips. “Untie Amy while you’re at it.”
Peter nodded and cut them both loose. Shock lanced through Zack at the reckless decision. He rubbed his wrists and swept his gaze around the trunk. Could he get ahold of the gun?
“Why are you doing this?” He stretched his arms out in front of him. His fingers were millimeters from the weapon. “This because of your dad?” Peter had nothing on Alex or Nathan. He had avoided conflict at all cost when they were kids.
Peter moved the gun to his other side and propped it against the hatchback. Zack’s heart sank into his shoes. His plan ought to make history as the world’s fastest fail. Peter avoided his question by staring out into the night. He and Amy had a lot in common. Both built walls so high, they iced out the world.
The car bounced over a bump, and Amy jolted awake. Her hand flew to her side, a breath catching in her throat. Zack wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and will her pain away.
“You okay?” he asked and brushed his fingers against her arm.
“Why am I untied?” She ignored his question but didn’t pull her arm away.
“Was it more comfortable with your hands behind your back? I could always tie you up again.” Peter smirked.
“No thanks.” Amy cringed, touching two fingers to her wrist. Her gaze fell upon Susan. “Do you want me to move her?”
“Nah, it’s fine. She looks comfy.”
“Okay, I’m going back to sleep.” Amy leaned her head against the wall and shut her eyes.
Zack gently turned her so her head rested in his lap. A lock of her soft dark hair fell into his hand, and he fought the urge to run it through his fingers. Peter hid a smile. “What?” Zack scowled.
“She thinks you don’t like her.”
“We’re friends, if that.” Amy was never going to want anything more, and lying about his feelings was growing old.
“Yeah. You’re in denial.”
Thirty-three
GENTLE HANDS LIGHTLY shook Amy awake. “Amy, you have to wake up now,” Zack said.
“Why?” She opened one eye and let it droop shut again. “I’m tired.”
Peter nudged her shoulder. “Come on, bathroom break.”
“No thanks. I want to sleep.” She tucked her knees up to her chest, curling into a comfy ball of warmth.
“You sure it was Tylenol you gave her?” Zack said accusingly.
The trunk’s hatchback opened, and Susan scooted closer to Peter. Amy blinked open her eyes. She had expected Susan to look to Zack for protection.
Ash, Alex, and Johnson stood in a row by the sedan’s open trunk. Alex glared at Peter. “Why the hell are they untied?”
“Did you expect them to walk in there with their hands behind their backs? Don’t you think that would look a tiny bit suspicious?”
Johnson nodded and shoved Alex’s shoulder. His expression darkened as his eyes circled the group. “This is how things are gonna go down. Jenkins and I will stay with the car. Cardelle and Ash will get them in and out. Don’t let them talk to anyone or call attention to themselves in any way.”
Peter and Susan climbed out of the sedan. Zack stayed close beside Amy. She cuddled up to him and drew strength from his steady presence.
“Out of the trunk,” Johnson snarled.
“Amy?” Zack slid an arm around her shoulders. “Can you walk?”
“No.”
“Just let her stay here.” Peter scraped a hand over the stubble on his cheek.
“Forget it.” Johnson slammed a fist against the side of the sedan, making Amy jump. “Amy, we’ll drag you if we have to. Get your butt out here.”
“Fine.” She shakily crawled from the trunk and stood, swaying, in a 7-Eleven parking lot. The storefronts to either side were dark, the area deserted except for a homeless teen sleeping soundly on a park bench. The sedan was tucked in a secluded corner by a grove of tall, slender oaks. Eerie crimson light filtered down from the sky and bathed the scene in a disturbing shade of scarlet. She gazed up at the moon. It glowed a dark bloodred. A clammy, creeping sensation slid into her mind. Hate bubbled in her soul and begged her for violence. The world tilted until it was laid out below her, billions of insignificant termites that needed to be exterminated. Amy wrenched her gaze away and clutched at her pounding heart. Nausea rose up within her, cold terror making her weak. Her head spun as she met Alex’s chilling gaze. His eyes were as red as the moon above. Her stomach lurched, fear careening through her like a runaway train. She staggered backward and tripped. She blinked, and Alex’s eyes were stormy blue once more.
“People are going to notice something’s wrong.” Zack put a hand under Amy’s elbow to steady her. His touch was warm through her thin cotton sleeve. “Let her stay with the car.”
The more they argued with him, the more determined Johnson became. In the end, he made her go. Zack half carried her the thirty feet to the store. She stared blurrily at Johnson over Zack’s broad shoulder. Why was it so important that they go to the washroom? Shouldn’t Assassin’s Honor want them out of the public eye? The gang’s decisions never made sense.
The group trooped inside 7-Eleven and formed an uneasy knot by the door. The warm, little store smelled of fruity chewing gum and chocolate. An elderly
man dozed behind the register with yesterday’s newspaper spread out on the counter. The latest loss by the Toronto Maple Leafs and an announced decrease in foreign trade had put him to sleep. Amy had a feeling today’s paper was going to spark more interest.
“What do we do now?” Ash muttered out of the corner of his mouth. “We can’t go into the girls’ bathroom!” Alex cursed under his breath.
“Come on.” Susan’s eyes flashed. “We’ve been potty-trained for a very long time.”
“Fine. No one will be in here this early anyway.” Alex shoved Amy toward Susan. “Make sure she doesn’t pass out and get people staring.”
“How you doing?” Susan asked as soon as the bathroom door had shut behind them.
“I’m good.” Amy straightened, trying to ignore the dull throbbing in her side. “I’ve got a plan.” She snatched a heavy ceramic soap dish and cracked it against the mirror.
“What are you doing?” Susan gaped at her as if she had lost her mind. Amy resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She had been receiving that look a lot lately.
“No time to explain.” The soap dish hadn’t even chipped the glass. She smashed it into the mirror with all the force she could muster. Nothing happened. She gave a frustrated roar and yanked on the mirror’s wooden frame. The whole thing came right off the wall. Susan’s mouth hung open, clearly wondering what had driven her sister to a life of crime and vandalism.
Amy banged the mirror against the counter with enough noise to wake the dead. The glass cracked down the middle without a single shard popping loose. Desperation clawed at her insides as time ticked away. She tossed the indestructible mirror aside. “Sue, we need to leave a message. I’m looking for something to scratch the wall.”
“What about writing on the paper towels?”
“I don’t have a pen.”
“I do.” Susan produced one with a triumphant flourish. Amy gaped at her in admiring disbelief. Had her brilliant little sister snagged a pen off a convenience store shelf?
“You’re amazing!” She snatched the pen and tore a chunk of paper towel.
Susan bounced on her toes. “What should we write?”
A rap on the door stopped them cold. “You two nearly done? Dad’s waiting in the car.” Alex’s emotionless voice froze Amy’s insides with dread.
Amy pressed a finger to her lips and gestured toward the door. Susan’s eyes grew wide. “What do I say?” she mouthed.
“Tell them I’m feeling sick.” Amy snatched up her paper and pen and hobbled into the nearest stall.
Susan’s voice trembled with fear as she repeated what Amy had said.
“Let’s go.” Amy crumpled her note into a ball and closed her fist around it.
She stumbled from the washroom, leaning on Susan for support. Zack, Ash, and Alex were standing by the door, both gangsters looking nervous. Alex beckoned them with a finger. Amy exaggerated her faintness and pretended to trip. She ignored the instinct to break her fall and smashed face-first into the linoleum. A thousand white-hot bolts of pain shot from her ribs and ricocheted through her body. A strangled moan escaped her lips. Tears streamed from her eyes as she fought in vain to breathe.
“Oh my goodness!” The elderly man at the register rushed from behind the counter. “Young lady, are you all right?” He hurried to her side and offered her a large, callused hand. She looked up into a face that had seen years of hard, honest work. His skin was wrinkled and weathered, his blue eyes kind. He was the perfect helpful stranger.
Amy swiftly seized his hand and clung to his fingers like a girl who was drowning. She got to her feet but refused to release him. “I’m sorry, I slipped. I’m such a klutz.”
“Quite all right.” The man smiled kindly. He opened his mouth to add something more and gaped in surprise as she pushed her crumpled note into his palm.
She shook his hand. “Thank you so much!” She tried to get him to focus on her and ignore the group by the door.
Alex scowled. “Amy, we have to go.”
“Okay.” She beamed at the cashier. “Thanks again.”
“Goodbye, miss.” The man released her hand and discreetly tucked her note into his pocket.
Elation flooded her. Amy fought a triumphant smile and hobbled slowly across the parking lot. The more time the cashier had to call the police, the better.
“She gave something to that guy back there,” Alex blurted the moment they reached the sedan. “I think it was a note.” Amy’s good feelings evaporated.
“What?” An angry red flush crept up Johnson’s neck. He swore under his breath and screamed at the others. “Get those two into the trunk!” He grabbed Amy’s wrist. “You’re coming with me.” Frustrated fury surged through her veins. She was so done being pushed around. She raised her free fist and clocked him in the jaw. “You little bitch!” A vein popped out in his thick red neck. He wrapped a hand around her throat and hauled her bodily into the back seat. His fingernails dug painfully into her skin. She kicked his thigh where she had shot him earlier. He howled in pain, and she made no effort to hide her satisfied smirk.
“Next time I shoot you, I’ll have better aim,” she rasped through his choke hold.
“Great threat.” Alex leered as he joined them in the back seat. “But you’re never going to have the chance. If I ever let you hold a gun again, you’ll be pointing it at your boyfriend.” His eyes lit up. “Hey now, that’s a fun question. Who would you rather kill, Amy? Your boyfriend or your sister?”
Thirty-four
CHARLES AND JUSTIN had spent the night crammed into the back of a squad car swapping info. Justin had explained how he, Zack, and the police had gotten involved. Zack had grown worried about Amy after talking to his little brother, who knew Amy’s little sister, whom Assassin’s Honor had kidnapped. Zack had then phoned Justin, who got in touch with a friend who worked for the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. They had trailed Assassin’s Honor all night with the second of two tracking devices that Justin had given Zack. The entire tangled mess made Charles’s head throb.
Charles had recounted the events that had led to Amy’s abduction. It had been downright humiliating explaining how Justin’s little sister had saved him from a beating. Charles was sure Justin thought he was an idiot, especially since he’d had to omit the one cool thing he had done, saving Amy and Peter from Alex in the toolshed. It would have prompted too many questions about the supernatural world. He pressed his forehead against the cool glass of the window and shut his eyes. His dreams were plagued with flying power saws and Alex’s sneering face.
Justin nudged him in the ribs. “Dude. Wake up!”
He straightened and rubbed his eyes. The squad car was parked at the side of the road. “What’s going on?”
“We’ve got a fix on their position. They stopped at a Seven-Eleven about a kilometer from here.”
His heart leapt at the news. “Great! Let’s go nab them!”
Justin’s smile slipped. “We can’t, not yet.”
“What? Why not? That’s what we’re here for, isn’t it?”
Justin blew out a weary breath. “They have guns. If we corner them, we’ll encourage a hostage situation.”
“We’re already there!” Tension knotted in his stomach and made it clench tight. He shuddered to think what would happen if they missed this chance. Alex would never provide another.
Justin’s gray eyes flashed with anger. “Listen to me. If they’re desperate enough, they could shoot one as an example and keep the others around as immunity bargains. There’s no way we’d save them all.”
Charles struggled to keep the bitter edge from his voice. “So we’re going to sit here while they fetch snacks?”
Justin glared at him, his brows coming together in a thick, angry line. “No, we’re going to do something stupid and get everyone killed.” He stormed from the car.
Charles put a hand to his aching forehead. He never knew when to shut up. Bone-weary sadness threatened to smother him as a literal pain knifed
his chest. He stared dully after Justin with despair blanketing his soul. He was standing with a slender female officer. They faced off aggressively in a heated debate.
Curiosity nudged aside his despair. Charles scrambled from the car to investigate. The chilly predawn air was a welcome relief from the stifling heat of the squad car.
The female cop was tiny, barely five feet tall. She was young and devastatingly beautiful with hair the color of midnight and eyes so blue they put the ocean to shame. Her perfect face was sculpted porcelain, her long dark lashes like feathered silk. Charles stared at her in awe. She was a real-life, here on Earth, honest-to-goodness angel! Did she have a secret supernatural job bringing justice to Darks? He loved her on sight.
“You’re way out of line, Evans!” The angelic cop stood with her shoulders squared and her back ramrod straight. “Sending a civilian into a hostile vehicle is far too dangerous.”
Justin speared her with an angry look. “It’s the only way to rescue them without risking a firing squad. They’ll never notice a random person hitching a ride on the back of their car. People do it all the time! I’ll be fine!”
“What makes you think this crazy plan of yours will work?” She planted her tiny hands on her itty-bitty hips and scowled at him with her blue eyes blazing. “Nothing like it has even been attempted before. You’ll wind up getting yourself killed!”
“Or I could save their lives.” Justin was impervious to her fiery cuteness. “And that’s the beauty of it. They’ll never expect anything like it.”
“Have you ridden a skateboard before?”
“Of course.” Justin spread his hands in an I-can-do-anything gesture. “I used to skateboard all the time.”
She arched one perfectly sculpted brow. “How many years ago?” He bit his lip and looked at the ground. “That’s what I thought.” She softened her tone. “Sorry, Justin. I know you’re worried about your sisters, but risking your life unnecessarily is a bad call. We would need someone with fresh experience on a skateboard, and none of my officers have ridden one since they were teenagers. It’ll be too late by the time we locate someone qualified.”
Blood Moon's Fury: A Young Adult Fantasy Thriller (Curse of the Blood Moon Book 1) Page 20
