Unleash Me: Vol. 3

by Christina Ross

  “And it’s a new suit,” he said. “I’ve lost some weight since the shooting, yet it’s tailored perfectly. Thank you for doing that for me. But I have to ask—you never took my measurements. How did you manage that?”

  “Blackwell might have helped. She can look at someone in a flash and know how to fit them.”

  He finished his coffee and winked at me. “I appreciate it,” he said.

  “Our pleasure—Blackwell and I had fun as usual. There are five other suits in your closet with the same tailoring. You’ll grow out of them in the next month or so as you start to put some muscle and weight back on, but at least you’ll have something to wear to work in the meantime. Blackwell and I went all Brooks Brothers on you, and I have to say—it’s kind of a turn-on.”

  “Good to know.” He held out his foot. “And new shoes, too?”

  “You can’t expect two women to go shopping—even if it’s not for themselves—and not get new shoes.”

  “I like them,” he said.

  “I’m glad.”

  “I should get going,” he said. “What are your plans for today?”

  “Writing. I’ll be here all day. Give me a call around noon and say sexy things to me so I can know what’s coming tonight, OK?”

  “Easy enough.”

  And then, after a deep kiss and with a sense of fear encompassing my heart, I watched the love of my life leave the apartment with a clip in his step. Would he be OK? Was someone waiting outside for him now? I knew that Cutter and Max were watching the building, and that Cutter would drive him to Wenn. But was that enough? At that moment, I decided to call Blackwell and ask her to do me a favor and confirm for me that Tank arrived to work safely each morning for the next few weeks.

  “Of course I will,” she said. “I know you’re concerned about his welfare. I’ll check in with you each morning after he arrives.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “In fact, what you need to worry about is working on your new book. Otherwise, that tyrant Iris will have your ass.”

  When I hung up the phone and went for another cup of coffee, the phone rang again. I reached for it, but didn’t recognize the number. I was about to dismiss it as a telemarketer when I realized that it might be Tank’s doctor calling.

  And so I answered.

  And when I did, everything I thought I knew faded away. My life was about to be stolen from me.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Hello,” I said.

  “Lisa Ward?” I didn’t recognize the voice, but it was deep. Almost cold.

  “Who’s calling, please?”

  “The scent of death,” the man said.

  A chill shot through me as I thought of the note that had been sent to me along with the black rose. The scent of death is all over you, it had said. For a moment, I felt faint.

  “Who is this?”

  “Already in a rush for answers….”

  “Who is this?”

  “Your future.”

  “Who are you?”

  “You’ll find out.”

  “How did you get this number?”

  “How does anyone get any number? You ask around until you receive it.”

  “I’m calling the police.”

  “And if you do that, you personally will be responsible for the deaths of everyone you hold dear in your life. Jennifer will be felled on a sidewalk in a spray of brain matter. Alex will die a grisly death next to her, his own face turned into hamburger. And then there’s your precious Tank, who will have the ugliest death of all. In fact, I could have taken him out just moments ago when he left the building to return to work in his overcoat and black suit.”

  A dangerous silence stretched between us. I was aware of myself trying to catch my breath, which felt as if it had been knocked out of me. Feeling trapped and encased in fear, I left the kitchen, and went into the foyer to make sure that the door was bolted shut. As I did so, I was aware of beads of sweat forming along my brow line. Whoever this was had seen Tank leave. Right now, Max was watching our building while Cutter drove Tank to Wenn. So, where was this person? Where was he hiding that a professional couldn’t see him?

  “Are you planning on staying on the phone and following directions?” he asked. “If not, I’ll make you pay for hanging up on me. It’s your choice, really. If you choose poorly, I’ll just set other things into motion and we’ll target Jennifer, who should be on her way to work soon….”

  “Who do you work for?”

  “Work for?”

  “Yes. Who do you work for? Marco Boss?”

  “I can assure you that I work for a power far higher than he.”

  “Is it Kevin?”

  “Who is Kevin?”

  And at that moment, I was lost.

  “What do you want from me?” I asked.

  “Naturally, you. And one other thing.”

  “What other thing? What are you talking about?”

  “All in good time.”

  “Who is this?”

  “The scent of death. The black rose. Your potential ending with an exclamation point.”

  My heart pounded so hard against my chest that I sagged against the closed door. “I don’t understand.”

  “I’m here to help you understand—you know—everything.”

  “Are you one of Kevin’s meth connections? Is that who this is? Is this some sort of extortion?”

  “Again, I don’t know who Kevin is. But time will lead you to the truth. And it’s the truth that you need right now. You need to be brought to the greater truth, and you need to see how your work is poisoning the truth for others. You need to be stopped before you put more lies in front of the public. You either need to repent for your sins and fix this situation, or you need to die. If you refuse, your friends die first. One by one. It’s really that simple. You’ll see.”

  Repent for my sins? I thought. “What does that even mean? Why do I need to repent for my sins? I’ve done nothing—”

  “Nothing? You’ve done nothing? Seriously? Here’s how it’s going to go down for you today, girl. Before Cutter returns from Wenn, you’re going to meet Max in the foyer in five minutes. Dress for a day of shopping, because that’s allegedly what you’re about to do.”

  “I haven’t even showered—”

  “Five minutes, or I kill Jennifer. She should be leaving her apartment just before nine as she always does. Your choice. Either she lives or she dies. If you want her to live, pull yourself together quickly. You’re an attractive girl—make it happen. Do something with your hair, put on some makeup, and find some of the whorish clothes you generally wear for a day of shopping—you need to look like yourself. Otherwise, you’ll raise suspicions, which I can’t have. Make certain that you have your cell on you—I already know your number. When you’re ready—you know, in five minutes—call me back at this number.”

  He gave it me, and I rushed into the kitchen to write it down.

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “I want you to have Max drive you to Saks before Cutter returns. So, your time is running out. Don’t disappoint, or you’ll just disappoint your best friend. I’m setting my watch now—five minutes. Oh, look—now it’s less than five. When you’re in your car, call me. It’s then that you’ll know what to expect from me next.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Within five minutes, I had managed to get myself together—as best as I could anyway.

  I’d slicked back my hair into a ponytail, quickly applied some moisturizer to make my skin look fresh, and changed into a newly pressed and dry-cleaned pair of black pants and a gray sweater recently delivered from the cleaners. Since I had no idea what was ahead of me today, I wore flats instead of heels.

  I wore large dark sunglasses to shield the fact that—with the exception of a bold red lip meant to throw Max off—my face was otherwise free of makeup.

  With Jennifer’s life on the line, I had no time to process what was happening right
now or to call Tank to warn him, which naturally was part of this bastard’s plan. The only thing I had time to do was to get out the door, so I grabbed my cell, the piece of paper with the man’s phone number on it, and my handbag from the kitchen counter. I then quickly retrieved my coat from the foyer’s closet, shrugged it on, and hustled out of the apartment, slamming the door shut behind me. I ran down the hallway to the elevator, and entered it, holding my breath as it plunged toward the lobby.

  How much time had passed? I checked my watch. Over nine minutes. I stared at the time as an unthinkable sense of dread and terror washed over me—I was four minutes late. With trembling hands, I quickly pulled my cell out of my pants pocket and dialed his number.

  “I’m in the elevator,” I said when he answered.

  “I told you to call me from the car. And by the way, you’re late.”

  “I tried. I did. I promise. Five minutes was too tight. Five minutes is nothing. You must know that. You have to know that. Tell me you haven’t done anything to Jennifer.”

  “I have a man trained on her now—apparently, she’s walking to work today. With security, of course, not that that matters. I’ll stop my man from shooting her when you reveal yourself to me. And that better be within one minute. Don’t you dare fuck with me, girl. Have you called anyone?”

  “Of course I haven’t!”

  “It doesn’t matter. If you have, I’ll know it by the time you reach Saks. Tank and his team would be there at that point, and then—before you know it—their deaths will be on you. You’ll be responsible for all of it—not me—because I warned you beforehand. If they die and end up burning in hell, that’s a weight you’ll need to deal with.”

  The line went dead.

  What is happening…?

  When the elevator doors slid open, I walked swiftly across the lobby keeping my face as composed as possible. I wanted to run toward the door, but if Max even sensed that anything was wrong, he’d call Tank, and then the gloves would be off. I needed for him to get me in a car, and take me to Saks. Then, while I was in the car, I might have a moment to think my way out of this.

  As I approached Max, I smiled at him. He wasn’t quite as big as Cutter, who was the largest man on Tank’s team, but he came close. He was standing just inside the entrance to the apartment building wearing a black nylon bomber jacket and black pants. Although I couldn’t see a gun, I knew that he was armed.

  “Hi,” I said.

  He looked at me first in surprise, and then with confusion. “Good morning.”

  “I need some retail therapy,” I said as I walked past him through the doors so whoever was waiting for me to emerge from the building could see me. Max followed after me. I glanced around to see if I could spot anything unusual, but the sunlight was so blinding and the sidewalks and street were so busy with pedestrians and cars, I could see nothing in the confusion. “I’m thinking Saks,” I said.

  “Cutter isn’t back yet. You know my orders. We receive your schedule each morning, and today, Saks isn’t on it. I can’t let you leave.”

  “I’m no prisoner, Max. I’ve been in that apartment since Tank got shot. With the exception of a few doctor visits, I haven’t left once. Today, that changes. Today, I want out. I’ve earned it.” I didn’t allow him time to respond. “So, let’s go to Saks. You have a car for me?”

  Hearing myself speak to him like that, I realized that I sounded like such a bitch, and I regretted it to my core. I could see that he was taken aback and disappointed by the aggressive tone of my voice, but what choice did I have? I’d been given my orders and with Jennifer’s life on the line, I was going to follow through with them. I was pulling rank, and the tense expression on Max’s face made it clear that he knew that. He’d never think of me the same way again. Not after this. I was being beyond rude to him.

  “The car?” I said.

  “I’ll need you to stand in the lobby while I retrieve it for you.”

  “How about this?” I said. “We’ll walk to it together.” When he moved to speak, I cut him short. “I’m sick of having no freedom. We go to the car now, you take me to Saks, and then we’re good. OK?”

  “I’ll need to call Tank first.”

  “There’s no need for you to call him.”

  “It’s my job to call him.”

  “This remains between us.”

  “No, it won’t. I’m sorry, Ms. Ward, but I don’t work for you. I work for Wenn Enterprises, and my job is to protect you.”

  At that moment, my cell rang. I pulled it out of my coat pocket, and saw that it was the man who was pressuring me to do all of this. I looked up at Max. “It’s Jennifer,” I said. “Give me a minute.”

  “While you talk with her, I’ll call Tank about the change of plans.”

  “I’ve asked you not to call him.”

  “And with all due respect, I’ve told you that you don’t tell me what to do.”

  I put the cell to my ear. “Jennifer,” I said. “Apparently, I’m a prisoner.”

  “He won’t let you leave?”

  “No.”

  “I can see him. He’s on his phone. Is he calling Tank?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then walk away from him now and hail a cab. You’re no longer going to Saks. You’ll meet me at an address that I’ll give you as soon as I’m certain that you’re not being followed. I’ll call you when you’re in the car. And by the way, check your messages. Jennifer is wearing one of her sluttish red overcoats today. Not that that’s a surprise.”

  Sluttish? Who is this person?

  “Move it, Lisa. Grab a cab. We want to make you see the error of your ways. And then fix them before it’s too late. You and your friends can come away from this unscathed, but only if you succeed in doing what we ask of you.”

  We? “And what would that be?”

  “All in good time. Now, go.”

  I severed the connection, checked my texts, and saw a photo of Jennifer walking down Fifth toward Wenn. For protection, she had two men flanking her. She was indeed in her red overcoat. The photo was time stamped just four minutes ago.

  This is real. He will kill her if I don’t do as he asks.

  I didn’t know what was happening to me or what would become of me—or why anyone would even want to do anything to me—but there was no way that I was going to be responsible for my best friend’s death. I’d take a bullet for Jennifer just as Tank had taken a bullet for me—that’s how much she meant to me. I had to protect her, Tank, and the rest of my friends while also trying to figure out a way to survive whatever was coming my way.

  Focus.

  Without another to word to Max, I walked swiftly away from him, hailed a cab at the curb, and snagged one on the second try. Max was still on his phone, likely with Tank, when I heard him shout something behind me. I got inside the car and locked the door just as Max tried to open it. He held out his hands in confusion. He tried to open the front passenger-side door, but it was locked. He looked bewildered to me—and then furious that I’d even pull something like this on him.

  “Get me away from him,” I said to the driver. “He’s my ex. We just broke up.”

  The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror. I saw his eyes study me in the glass, and then he cut into traffic on Fifth. “Where to?”

  “I’ll let you know in a minute. Just drive. Not straight down Fifth. He’s going to get into a car of his own. Before that happens, try to throw him off our tail. Can you do that?”

  “I can do that.”

  “There will be a large tip in this for you if you can.”

  He took a right onto West Fifty-Fifth Street, swerved through the ebb and flow of traffic between the next two blocks, and then took a left onto Seventh Avenue and pressed forward. It was then that my phone rang. I was an emotional wreck when I answered.

  “Hello?”

  “Well, you don’t sound well.”

  “I’m not well.”

  “Still, nicely done,” the voice
said.

  What choice have you given me, you son of a bitch? “Is Jennifer all right?”

  “I believe she just entered Wenn. But if you don’t follow through with my directives now, I’ll just have her or Tank taken out when they leave later today. Perhaps I’ll do both of them. Maybe that will send you the message you need.”

  “I already have that message. I got it. OK? Where do you expect me to meet you?”

  “Give the driver this address.” He gave it to me. “When you arrive there, you’ll see a dark blue van parked at the street corner. It will have the sign of the cross on the driver’s door. And elsewhere on the vehicle. Go to it. The back doors will spring open when you approach them. You’ll need to be quick when you step inside. When you do, a black velvet bag will be placed over your head so you won’t know where we’re taking you—it’s just a precaution, but be prepared for it because it likely will unnerve you. When we’re ready to go, we’ll take you to a certain location that I’m not about to reveal to you. Then, the bag will come off. We’ll have a little chat inside that either will result in the end of your life, or in you being freed from all of the sins you’ve allowed into your soul, all the lies you believe to be truths, and all of the damnation you’ve already spewed forth with your filthy, blasphemous writing. We want to stop one thing from happening, Lisa. Just one. If we succeed—great. If we win, you win. If we don’t, then we will have failed to stop you from sending forth all of the poison you’re about to unleash upon our already fragile, morally battered world. And if that happens, you die. Hopefully, it won’t come to that. I think we can succeed. All we want is the elimination of one thing.”

  “Me?”

  “Not yet. But if you don’t come through for us, then yes, of course, your life naturally is on the line.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Take me to the corner of Sixth and West Sixteenth Street,” I said.

  The driver looked at me in the rearview mirror again, this time furrowing his brow, likely because he had overheard some of my conversation, and could tell that I was visibly trying to calm myself.