Chasing Sergei: Dark Romance
Page 18
The key turned entered the lock. The handle turned. The door opened.
“Hey Old Man, it’s time for us to leave, “ the Chinese bastard said with his head looking down at his watch. It took him a moment to notice that Gus hadn’t responded. It took him another moment to realize that Gus wasn’t laying helpless and bleeding on the floor in front of him, ready to receive more of his rib kicks.
The confused torturer opened his eyes wide. He spun around. Reached into his sports coat. Pulled a gun out a holster.
Too late!
“AWWWWWW!” Gus screamed as he plunged the knife into the thug’s neck. The blade severed veins. Blood spurted everywhere, painting the walls.
“AWWWWWWW!”
Gus pulled the knife out and plunged it back in, over and over again, each time cutting a vein and letting loose another torrent of blood. Half the man’s neck had been cut. It looked like his head was about to roll off his shoulders. He ran around the room trying to put his ripped open neck back together again, trying to plug holes of leaking blood. He slipped in his own blood, fell backward, and slammed his head against the concrete.
The knife dropped from Gus’s hand. It clanged against the concrete. Gus dropped to his knees. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he passed out in a puddle of blood.
Chapter 29
815. It was almost time to leave.
Dante rose from his chair and walked towards the table. He picked up his gun and slid it into his hip holster. He could feel Taylor's eyes on him. He didn't want to look at her, though. All he wanted to do was walk out of the door and confront death.
If he never came back, she would cry. She would feel a sense of emptiness and regret. She would always have to ask herself what could have been. But she would get over it. She would eventually find another man, a square man, to give her a stable and traditional life. That was something that he would probably never be able to do. He was forced to admit that to himself. He had a feeling that he wouldn't be able to live without the brotherhood. But he desperately wanted to, he wanted to be free. Yet he was also so terrified of freedom. Maybe dying would be the best thing to happen to him.
“Where are you going?” Taylor called out. Her voice trembled. Dante could feel the current of her emotions. He stopped a few feet away from the door, leaned his head back, close his eyes and sighed.
Moments later, he felt her arms around his neck, squeezing tightly, desperately, lovingly. He felt her tears on his flesh. This wasn't what he wanted. This wasn't what he needed. He was a Warrior who needed to go into battle.
He put his hands on her shoulders and stared deeply into her eyes. “The way that I feel about you…” He bit down on his bottom lip, looked away, and shook his head from side to side. “I’ve never felt this way about any woman before. Never. But this is something that I have to do alone. I don't want you to be involved.”
Taylor crossed her arms against her chest. “I already am involved. How do you know they won’t send someone here to kill me the minute you leave the hotel?”
She had a good point. There was no way to know whether they were being watched or not. No way to know whether they were anxiously waiting for him to leave, so they could seize her.
They left the hotel five minutes later and caught a cab to Chelsea Piers. They didn't say anything during the ride. Dante kept his eyes forward. Every now and then, he could see Taylor staring at him. He would make her proud. He was sure of it. And then they would ride off into the sunset together.
They got out of the cab a few blocks away from the indicated address. There was a Starbucks on the corner. Dante told Taylor to go inside and wait for his signal. She nodded up and down.
Dante wasn't sure what he was walking into. But since he had no escape plan, he was hoping to go out in a blaze of glory. He would go in there shooting. And they would shoot back. But hopefully, he would kill enough of them for Big Momma and Baby Girl to be able to escape.
Police sirens roared. He whipped his head around nervously. The lights and the sirens were coming directly towards him. Closer and closer. He froze. Closer and closer. He swallowed hard, then touched his gun, focused, ready to start firing. The lights and sirens zoomed right past him. He closed his eyes. His chest heaved. Sweat broke out on his flesh.
There were so many people on the fucking sidewalk. Strolling, laughing, holding hands, enjoying the warm sun, pristine sky, and light sensual breeze. He felt a million miles away from these people. It was as if he existed in some alter universe but in order to get to it, he had to pass through this strange world. He was going crazy. He was sure of it. His thoughts shot off into so many different directions. It was so hard for him to understand what was going on.
Death’s hounds were nipping at his heels. He walked two blocks west and turned left down a cobblestone road. Straight ahead there was a nice view of the pier. On both sides the street there where warehouses, which often served as art galleries.
He got half way down the block and he saw the number 79 on a brown door. He looked left, then right. There were a few cars parked on the other side of the street. But there was no foot traffic. Sirens sounded in the distance.
He walked towards the door.
“BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!”
He slammed his fist against it. He hadn’t meant to hit it that hard. But a surge of adrenaline had rushed through him. He waited. Nothing.
“BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!”
He waited. And waited. And…
He saw the door handle turning. He pulled his gun from the holster and put his finger on the trigger.
Chapter 30
“Gus! Gus! Wake up!” Big Momma screamed.
Gus blinked several times. He didn't know how long he had been passed out. He could feel a wet stickiness all around him. He was laying in the blood that now covered the entire floor. He had the urge to throw up, but not the strength. The smell was unlike anything he had ever encountered. The sight of his victims head hanging halfway off his neck, nearly made him faint.
He just managed to get control of himself. Some evil spirit must have taken hold of him. Running so close to death must have brought out his most primal instincts. He blinked several more times. The haggard face in front of him seemed familiar. But he couldn’t immediately figure out who it was. Her eyes were bloodshot red. Makeup had run down her cheeks. Half of her hair was missing. As if one side had been shaved clean with a razor and the other left alone.
“Betty Sue?” he said. “Is it you?” He said weakly.
“Son of a bitch!” Big Momma said. She brought back her arm, opened her palm, and clacked him against the side of the face.
“AW!” he screeched. His neck snapped backward. He shook his head from side to side. “Goddamn, it woman! You still alive?”
Every part of his body hurt. But he smiled through the pain.
“Baby Girl’s in the other room,” Big Momma said. They broke both her legs. But she ain’t dead. At least not yet.”
Gus felt his eyes shutting. He wasn’t going to be able to hold on much longer. Big Momma put both her hands on his shoulders and shook him. “C’mon, Gus baby. We gotta get out of here. The other guys will eventually come back. We gotta get to a hospital.”
Gus wanted to say something but his mouth was filled with blood. Big Momma managed to help him back on his feet. They were both covered in blood. But they were alive. Gus kept an arm slung around her shoulders as they stepped through the blood nearly slipping a couple times. They left the room and the entered the main space in the warehouse.
Baby Girl lay on the floor sobbing.
He smiled and cried. He put his hand to his heart. He feared that it might explode.
“BANG! BANG! BANG!” There was a loud banging at the front door.
Gus froze with fear. Who could that be? Could it be one of the thugs coming back?
“Get my knife,” Gus told Big Momma. She quickly hurried back into the room and retrieved the bloody knife.
“BA
NG! BANG! BANG! BANG!”
The fist slammed into the door angrily. Gus was ready to go out like a hero. This would be his final act and it would be a courageous one. He would make the Brotherhood proud. Word would eventually get back to them. Death would be his freedom. But first, he would take another life.
He made his way towards the door. He didn’t need any help from Big Momma. The adrenaline was enough to get him over there.
He held the knife in one hand. He gripped the doorknob with the other. Whoever was on the other side of the door was going to get a blade through their neck. He took several deep breaths. He gritted his teeth.
He put his hand on the doorknob and turned it…
Chapter 31
As the door opened slowly, Dante raised his gun, finger on the trigger.
“DIEEEEEEE!” A man covered in blood screamed. He held a long knife. He lunged at Dante.
“POP! POP! POP!”
Dante let off three shots.
The knife plunged into Dante’s shoulder. “AWWWW!” He howled in pain. He fell backward, the gun dropped from his hand. The bloodied man leaped on top of him, knife raised above his head. A wild, demonic look in his eyes.
“GUSSSSSS!” A woman yelled. “NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!”
End of Book One
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