“It’s the only chance we’ve got right now. She could be in there all day and all night.”
“Or she could come right back out.” Tynie was right, of course.
Seb drove on for a quarter of a mile, looking for somewhere we could turn without attracting attention. In the end, he just turned. Anyone looking out of a window could have guessed that we didn’t belong there. We were going too slow to be lost and trying to find a way out. If we were looking for a particular address, why would we not stop and call? This was all too messy.
Worst of all, this was the kind of neighborhood where the cops came when they were called, and they came fast. They cared about crime in places like this. It was the kind of place they all dreamed of retiring to. As I thought that, I remembered what Haley had said about a rain of bullets.
“Just pass by. I’ll jump out and get it done,” I told Seb.
“There’s a curve right before we get back to the house,” Seb said. “I’ll park and watch. Otherwise, if you don’t get the car, what are you going to do, wait for a bus?”
He was right. Tynie had set up the gamepad and he handed it to me. As I was about to get out, Seb told me to wait. From behind his seat, he pulled out a fleece with a hood.
“There will be a million cameras around here. At least you can pull the hood up.”
“Thanks, Seb. Wish me luck.”
~~
There isn’t a way to wear a hoodie and creep around in an upscale neighborhood without looking totally suspicious to anyone who sees you. Damnit. This was why I’d spent all that time making a routine with Tynie where we scope out a vehicle and take it somewhere distant. Anonymous.
The Caddy was parked facing the wall with the ivy and the door.
I moved as fast as I could along the lawn at the front of the house so as to avoid making a noise on the damned shale. The screen on the gamepad had two buttons. One red, one green. As soon as I thought I was near enough, I pressed the green button. Nothing happened. It was only one step on the shale but my boots made a pretty loud crunch. I crouched right by the car and pressed the green button again.
All the orange lights flashed and the car made a short WHOOP. As I got in, the gate in front of me swung slowly open. I hit the red button and the engine fired up. Through the gate, a very wide man in a black suit and in a hurry was followed by the woman.
He had a jagged scar across the right side of his forehead and at the end of it was an ugly dent in the side of his skull. He drew out an impossibly large, pale gray automatic pistol, which he carefully pointed straight at me.
Chapter Sixteen
RYAN’S LEATHER JACKET WAS too big for me, but I liked it like that. And it felt like him. And it had the smell of him. After last night, being wrapped in his arms, feeling his breath and the rise of his chest, I felt like a part of me had been ripped away.
Wrapping myself in his jacket reminded me of waking up in his embrace. Feeling the huge strength of him cover and enfold me, the weight of his body against my back. The strength of his muscular chest, His hard, ridged abs. The knotted cords of his thighs. And his bulge. Oh, God.
I thought about moving the gun. It was pretty uncomfortable where it was. But there was still a risk they could see me on a camera. Also, in a jacket pocket, it was more likely to get spotted.
Where it was, if any of them was going to find it, then I’d be on the way to shooting him already. The cold metal against my soft skin was a reminder of him.
Why didn’t I wake up in the night? Turn to him. Pull him closer. Hug and coax him into me. Would there ever be another chance?
There was no future in feeling that way about a criminal, I told myself. Since I met him, since I found myself in the car he stole, every time he had stepped away I wondered if I would ever see him again. All morning I reminded myself of that. What possible good could come out of it?
Was I really going to hope for a life with a man who, whenever he stepped out of the door, I’d be wondering if he’d be killed or arrested, betrayed or traded by another crook looking for a lighter sentence? Stalked and hunted down by a man like Gregor, just to stop him from snitching?
Yet here I was, held prisoner by far worse criminals than him, and there didn’t seem to be much chance of anyone else rushing in to save me.
He must have been out with Tynie, I guessed, stealing a car for Gregor. Finding a car to steal, just like he stole Aileen’s car. Then I thought, What if the next car he takes has a girl in it, too? It didn’t seem any more ridiculous, or any more unlikely than his taking the car with me in the back. Would he forget about me the next time he found a girl curled up on the back seat?
The gang were still here, I knew that. At least, I knew that I heard the clumps of several sets of boots moving about outside our room, and the low burr of men’s voices. More than once, I wondered if it was possible that Ryan and Tynie were outside with the others. My situation was so strange, so far beyond my normal experience, and so completely alien, I didn’t know what made sense and what didn’t.
It was hard to keep any sense at all of what to believe and what not to. At some moments it was frightening, too. When I thought that I could trust Ryan, that he would get me through this safely and that he would take care of me, a well dropped open inside me. A long, dark hole of fear with no bottom.
Panic rose up so fast, I couldn’t even tell whether it was terror that I was wrong or fear that I was right.
The door opened. Gregor came in with coffee in a to-go cup. He put the cup on a crate, then stood over me and looked down. The urge to pull the front of my dress closed and cover myself more was too strong. Even though I didn’t want him to see me react in that way, being vulnerable like that, I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to cover up the tops of my breasts.
Holding the sides of the crate, I resisted and didn’t move, but he sensed all of that. It was in the little signs of satisfaction, the triumph in his smile. It was an easy, confident smile. He was a powerful man. Great-looking, too. I wanted to pull the little gun out of my panties and shoot him right there.
“You come with Gregor now.”
“Where to?”
“You don’t have to worry where to. We’re leaving this place.”
“I want to know where you’re taking me. How will Ryan find me?”
His eyes glinted like knives. “You think of too many things you don’t need to worry about. Bring your coffee. It’s a good coffee.” He stood by the door and held it open. He snapped his other hand closed a few times in a gesture to hurry me.
“I need to know where we’re going.”
Gregor smiled and closed his eyes like a cat and smiled as he shook his head. “No,” he said, “You don’t. Come along now. Places to go, things to be done.”
Begrudging and nervous, I followed him along the corridor. As we stepped out of the big box and into the old, dusty warehouse, the light streamed through the big, smeary windows and it hurt my eyes. Gregor grabbed my hand and tugged me along. “Come on.” His voice was gentle enough, and not unkind, but it was insistent.
We went down in the rattly metal elevator. At the bottom, Gregor dragged the big door open. There was another huge, black SUV waiting. For a moment I wondered how many of these things he had. It was like a fetish. He shoved me to climb into the back. I sat squeezed in between Ratke and one of Gregor’s other goons.
Gregor drove us at a ridiculous speed for twenty minutes or so to a run-down area of brick-built tenements and cement lots. Everything was the color of grime and dirt. The air was dusty and hung with the smells of neglect.
He parked in front of a low-rise apartment block. Ratke and the other goon “helped” me down from the car and in through the front of the building. There was a dank and dirty stairwell, but we went under the stairs and through a door on the first floor. Inside, I was hustled through a narrow door and down another flight of stairs, into a dark basement.
A bare bulb hung from the ceiling. There was an old couch, a couple of
rancid-looking armchairs, a table piled with newspapers and magazines, and a TV. And many more piles of old newspapers.
Gregor followed me down and closed a door behind him.
“Your little jacker, he is lucky boy.” His eyes gleamed as they traveled over my face. “He is graduated now. He tell you that?”
I had no idea what he meant. I said nothing.
“Little Ryan moved up a notch. He can be charged with accessory to murder.”
“What?”
“Stupid guard at the bank. He died in the night. Little carjacker is big-time crook now.” He grinned. “Well, he is like big-time crook. And he hangs around big-time crooks. So is on his way. ” He laughed.
“What we do with you, though? Hmm? It was bad of him to bring you into this.” He made sad eyes. “I’m so sorry he did that. Now, how will you earn your keep? What have you got to bring to the party?”
He looked at me like a commodity. A thing. Like he was considering my value. A price.
He reached out and touched my jaw with a finger. Lifted my chin a little. Turned my head. “You could be some use,” he said, lifting an eyebrow, approving. “Maybe.”
Then he shrugged. “Who knows where it all leads?” And he laughed as he left.
I wrapped my arms around myself and felt the warmth of Ryan’s soft leather.
Being cooped up in here was going to be a whole lot worse than being stuck in the motel. Locked in with no windows, the sound of men on the floor above. What more was to come?
The TV didn’t work. Just as I was sure that it wouldn’t. I wished I had Tynie’s computer to stare at. Just to watch the news roll over.
The uncomfortable weight of the gun gave me some security, although I hoped I wouldn’t need to fire it. It was power, but I was sure that the men outside all had experience with guns and I had none. I wondered what my chances would be if I tried to shoot my way out. Six shots, Ryan said. Not great odds, I guessed. It would have to start either with me shooting the door open, or with banging on the door to make one of them come, and then shooting him.
Either way, I would be one shot down and at the end of a passage, and they’d know that I was here with a firearm. Trying to get along the passage, then, to reach the door, I guessed that I would be a pretty easy target.
What if I got one of them to come, then held the gun on him? Made him move ahead of me? Perhaps it wouldn’t have to be noisy, and maybe I could get to the other end, with one of them in front of me. Use him as a shield.
Supposing all of the rest of them were in the room at the far end, could I shoot quickly enough to overpower them all? Or could I turn fast enough to get out? Shoot the lock, maybe? That wouldn’t be enough. It would be stupid not to assume they were all armed. If one of them were alive, he’d kill me if he could. If I started shooting, I would have to be ready to kill them. All of them.
And that was all assuming they were in the right place and I got four killer shots out of six. If one man was outside the apartment, or in another room, I would be dead. It didn’t seem like shooting my way out was going to be my best option.
After a while, Ratke came in with pizza and soda. He watched me as he set it down. Pizza for every meal. Morning, noon, and night. Even in the school dorms, we were over that by the end of our freshman year.
“No coffee?” I said.
He shook his head. They had made fresh coffee upstairs. I’d smelled it.
He said, “I thought I’d come in and keep you company while your two little boys are out playing.” His eyes were small and pale. He came and sat on a chair near to where I was on the ratty couch. His mouth was thin and there was a stale smell around him.
Then he slid the chair nearer.
“That Ryan.” He peered at me. “He’s a little punk.” His movements were small and mousey and they made him look much the same. As he sat near me, I realized that he wasn’t small. He was wide and heavy. The sound of his breath was labored and controlled.
Now I was searching in the upper corners of the room, hunting for cameras as I stood to move away. Where we were last night I’d been hoping there weren’t any. Now I was wishing there were. If there were cameras, maybe there was a chance that Gregor or one of the others would come in and help me.
Then I thought, You idiot, these assholes wouldn’t care about you. They would be just as likely to come in and help Ratke attack you. The idea made me shudder. They could come in and hold you down. This was just panic talking, and I knew it. That didn’t make it stop. They could stand around in a circle. Take turns with you. What’s to stop them?
The weight of the little gun was a comfort, but I’d already considered most of my options for using it. Yes, if I had to, I would—there was no question. But it was a card I would only get to play once. As soon as any one of them saw that I had it, either I’d have to shoot them all or they would take it away.
For the moment, its value was in how it made me feel more secure. To use it any other way, I would have to be very clear about how the circumstances would play out.
If Ratke made a move, I would have to be sure about every possibility before I pulled out the weapon. And then, although I might be able to deal with Ratke easily enough, I would have nothing left to fight my way out of this place with. Once I pulled the gun on him, either I would be in a shooting match with all of them—or, at best, one of them would take the gun off me.
No, Ratke, I thought. You move one foot nearer and you’ll get to take my shoes, straight in your balls.
He stood. Turning my body to face him, I pulled the jacket tighter around me. Ratke moved around the couch to stand behind me. I turned to follow him as he did. It was unsettling, and he knew it.
“You need a friend in here, girly. You need someone who’ll have your best interests at heart.”
He stood in the darkness behind the couch. I craned my neck to face him. He bent and pushed his face close to mine. “After the score, girly,” he licked his lips, “who’s going to need you?”
If I stood, I knew he would grab at me.
“Your jacker, your racer boy, he’ll be long gone.” His face moved nearer, “One way or another.”
It was too much for me to sit there with him coming closer, and I jumped up and backed away from him.
He came slinking around the couch after me. “Who’s going to take care of you then? Hmm?”
I moved, fast. I shoved the table at him with my foot. It tilted and a wave of old papers and magazines slid off in front of him. He was a foot and a half away. And he was massively taller, bigger than me. He could overpower me easily. His nostrils flared.
I ran up the steps, running backwards half the way. As he got nearer, he said, “Nothing to worry about, girly. We’re just going to have a little fun, you and me.”
Backed up against the door and in darkness, I kicked out at him. He ducked and dodged, but I caught his cheek once, then my heel grazed his forehead. At the same time I banged against the door as hard as I could.
Chapter Seventeen
THE BARREL OF THE gun was pointed right at me. I should have driven right at him, but the Escalade was already in reverse. I shoved the gas pedal all the way down.
The big SUV leaned and swung as I swerved across the drive, churned over the lawns, and bumped onto the road. The guy fired off a shot. He was way off, but he tracked me with the gun.
Seb ran across the lawn holding a wallet open in front of him and waved at the big guy. I backed the car at full speed up toward the highway until I was well out of range.
Then I hit the brake, spun the wheel, and changed into forward gear for the fast J-turn. It didn’t go as smoothly as the one Haley had pulled in the van, but with some smoke and squeals from the rubber, I was away.
Jack - Perfect Burn: Hot Crime Romance Page 15
