Rushing down the stairs, I reached the elevator at the same time James did and we punched the button. It took a few seconds for the door to slide open, meaning it was no longer parked on the first floor where I had left it. King had definitely taken it somewhere.
James reached for my face but drew back before he touched me. “Jesus Christ, Gia. You’re hurt. You’re bleeding pretty good.”
“Yeah.”
I shrugged. I swiped at my cheek and my hand came back full of blood. That’s when I noticed blood on the ground. I pressed the sleeve of my oversized sweatshirt up against my cheek.
The elevator opened before us. Stepping inside, I studied the options. James followed.
That’s when I noticed there was a basement level. Mother fucker. I punched it before James could say a word. We sat there in awkward silence for a few seconds, me holding my shirt sleeve to my cheek, which was starting to hurt like hell.
“Thanks for coming,” I said. It was the biggest understatement of the century.
“Yeah.” He looked away and then back at my cheek. “I think you should go back up, get in my car, and call for an ambulance.”
“I’m fine. The blood is stopping.”
I wasn’t sure it was, but it hadn’t soaked through the thick fabric of my sweatshirt sleeve yet, so that was good.
“Next time you need my attention, why don’t you text instead of email? I could’ve been here a lot earlier.”
I shrugged. “I was in a hurry to get Sasha before the TV stations got my email with her story. I set the email on a timer so it wouldn’t go out too early. That gave me time to get to her first.”
“You were pretty confident.”
“With the numbers and initials she had scribbled on her calendar, I knew she was meeting with King at one of the buildings the mayor owned down here. Eddy was a street not a person. 12 was an address, not a time, and KKK didn’t stand for Klu Klux Klan, it stood for Kraig Kristopher King. I looked at all the other buildings the mayor owned. This was the only one that appeared abandoned and was fortified like a prison yard. Yet last night there was a whole hell of a lot of activity coming and going from here. I knew something was up.”
I hadn’t been bluffing about sending the emails, but at the same time I knew I had taken a huge risk and gamble.
“Got an extra gun?” I said.
He eyed me, but reached down and extracted a small pistol from an ankle holster, handing it to me as the elevator jolted to a stop. When the door whooshed open, we both flattened ourselves against the walls of the elevator. When nobody shot us, James gestured that we should move inside.
A small underground cavern lay before us, with curved stone ceilings and walls.
Stepping to one side, I kept my back to the elevator and my gun extended. James stepped to the other side. It didn’t take long to see the room was empty. A door lay opposite.
A table of computers lit up the room with an eerie greenish glow from their swirling screensavers. A huge TV hung on one stone wall. A large chair was pulled in front of it. The other wall contained a map of the city. I recognized some street names but nothing else on the map made sense. It contained what looked like streets or paths with strange names that snaked throughout the city, and, as far as I knew, didn’t exist. I spotted the general location of my place on Russian Hill and there were only a few red lines. Most of the red lines seemed to start in the Tenderloin and spiked out into other parts of the city.
“Tunnels,” James said under his breath. And then he pointed his chin toward the door at the far end of the small stone cave. We raced to the door. I stepped aside as James nudged it open. It led to a tunnel that took off in two different directions.
“Wait here.” James gave me a look.
“Whatever.” I took off to the right side. The walls of the tunnel were brick, the arched ceiling concrete and the floor dirt. Red lightbulbs hung from the ceiling every ten feet or so. Sprinting, I ran with one hand holding my sleeve to my cheek and the gun in my other hand. It grew colder and soon I could see my breath as I huffed along.
I didn’t hear James behind me so assumed he’d headed the other direction. I was on my own. My feet were silent hitting the packed dirt as I ran. It felt as if the air was growing warmer and the tunnel angled upward. I rounded another corner and was met by a door. An ordinary wooden door. With an ordinary handle. Leaning over holding my knees, I caught my breath, not taking my eyes off the door. A drop of blood from my cheek splattered on the dirt before me. I waited. It was only the one drop.
Holding my gun in one hand, I twisted the bronze doorknob and slowly pushed the door inward. It opened into a small dark space. The red light from the tunnel showed it was a janitor’s closet with a mop, broom, bucket, and cleaning supplies. Something nagged at me, but I was too wound up to pay attention.
A slice of light on the floor and wall showed another door lay on the other side of the closet and that it was ajar. What kind of Lion, Witch and the Wardrobe shit was this? My heart thudded. King had probably come this way. I could almost feel his lingering presence.
Gingerly, I pushed the door open a few inches and listened. I didn’t hear anything. I pushed with all my might at the same time I stepped in and whirled in a circle, gun drawn before me. Nobody. I was in a basement. A few bicycles were locked against a pole along one wall. Including a red bicycle. We were in the basement of the Eddy Street apartment. I rushed upstairs to the lobby.
I peered up the staircase, searching for movement. King must have fled out the front door. I bet this was why they wanted Sasha to meet there: so they could’ve dragged her through the tunnel to the Forgotten Island building.
Meanwhile, King had gotten away.
CHAPTER THIRTY
BEFORE I REACHED THE front door, I heard something that made me freeze. A creak from the stairs above. I leaned over in time to see a figure draw back from the very top of the staircase.
Along with the echo of more footsteps, a long shaft of sunlight shone down the stairwell as I heard a door slam. I raced up the stairs and didn’t stop until they ended at a door to the roof.
A combination lock hung open on the door latch.
I shoved open the door to the roof and ducked, expecting gunfire. When nothing happened, I crouched and peered out the one-foot gap at knee-level, blood racing, fear spiking through me. I didn’t see anything except a rooftop heating structure.
The warrior must be alert for those who wish to deceive him. The enemy is always searching for an opportunity to deceive so one must never underestimate the cunning of one’s enemy by making light of his power and strength. A warrior must have a clear head to accurately see the enemy.
Stepping through the gap, I pressed my back against the cold concrete wall that jutted up onto the roof from the stairwell. Holding the gun before me, I strained to listen, hoping for some sound that would indicate where King was. The structure containing the stairwell was in the middle of the roof so that meant he had to be on the other side. Keeping my back on the concrete, I inched toward the left side, gun up by my face.
A creepy feeling, some sixth sense made me step away from the wall and look up at the same time King hurtled his body down at me. He’d been perched on top of the structure that housed the stairwell.
We both landed with a thud on the rooftop. The impact knocked the wind out of me and sent my gun spinning across the roof. Out of my reach.
As I struggled to get away, King flipped me over, straddled me, and stuck his gun in my mouth.
“Fun and games are over now.”
A cold fear swept across my insides. The metallic taste of the gun filling my mouth made me gag. He released the safety and I closed my eyes. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing my terror.
I braced myself.
The whirring sound didn’t make sense at first and then my eyes popped open.
Danny’s drone.
It hovered only a few feet above us, it’s red light flashing. Recording.
/> The gun was pulled from my mouth and fired, the sound momentarily deafening me, the echo obliterating any other sound. I saw King’s lips move but heard nothing. The drone darted and dipped. Then, the weight on me was gone and King was standing above me, firing at the drone again.
His legs straddled me, but he was distracted, staring at the drone, waiting for it to swoop closer.
In one fluid motion, I bent my left leg at the knee, wrapping it around so my calf rested on his thigh and my foot was on his hip. At the same time, I kicked my other leg toward his crotch, arching my foot so it rested against his buttocks. Meanwhile, I reached for his ankle and yanked at the same time I pitched my hips forward, knocking him off balance. A classic Budo move executed perfectly. His back thudded onto the rooftop as I rolled to a stand.
In an instant, I dropped and was on him, my leg wrapped around him so that I was pinching his neck between them. Try to get away now, dickhead.
The gun he’d dropped was only about three feet away but I couldn’t reach it without moving off of him and letting him go. My legs were wobbling already. I wasn’t sure how long I could hold him before my strength gave out.
The whirring above me reminded me of Danny and his drone. But then the drone swooped away as an army of police rushed through the rooftop door in SWAT gear with gigantic guns aimed at me.
“Hands up!”
I thrust my hands up into the air. Then James stepped out of the door, saying something. The officers circled King and yanked me away. They had him cuffed in seconds.
I sat, shaking, in a corner.
James was suddenly at my side.
“You, okay?”
I nodded.
“The paramedics are on their way.”
I frowned.
“Your cheek?”
“Oh.”
“I think you’re going to need stitches. I also think you’ve lost a lot of blood.”
“Oh.”
Two paramedics headed my way. I didn’t fight or argue. I had nothing left.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
PERCHED ON THE EDGE of the hospital bed, I gingerly touched my cheek and the fat bandage on it. I wished there was a mirror. Despite the doctor’s refusal to answer me, I was pretty sure I was going to have a hideous scar. I could tell by the sympathetic look the nurse gave me when I asked. When I said I’d no idea what King had cut me with, they hooked me up to an IV, as well. Later, James told me they’d found a rusty piece of metal with blood on it in the garage.
Fanfuckingtastic. A scar and tetanus.
Yawning, I suddenly felt like I hadn’t slept for a week instead of only a night. I decided to lie down and curl up in a ball until the nurse came back. I’d asked her to check when I could be released. I’d drifted off when a commotion outside my door woke me.
“Nuh-huh, you are not going to make me wait. You can’t tell me I’m not family. Why would you say that? You think I’m not family because I’m black and my daughter’s white?”
Darling.
The nurse said something I couldn’t hear and then Darling said in a lower voice, “Listen, I’m the closest thing that girl has got to family and I’m going in there whether you like it or not.”
I smiled.
She pushed through the door and had me wrapped in a big squishy hug before I could even say hi. I came up for air and no, I wasn’t crying. Must have been my allergies acting up.
Darling pulled back and looked at me. “Mmmm hmmm. You gonna have a big ass, scar, baby girl.”
I shrugged. “How’s Sasha?”
Darling swiped at her eyes. “She gonna be alright. They’re keeping her overnight for observation. She’s got an IV and stuff like you. They say she’s dehydrated and they are giving her antibiotics because of her pinky toe. It’s a little infected. But I think she’s going to be alright.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. But I had a confession to make.
“Darling, I knew about her toe. They ...” I looked past her and scrunched my face up, bracing myself. “They sent me her toe yesterday. I’m so sorry. I was afraid to tell you.”
Darling drew back, eyes wide. “They sent you my grandbaby’s toe?”
“Yes.” My voice was barely above a whisper. She had every right to lay into me.
“Oh Lord, have mercy. Honey, I’m so sorry.”
“No, you don’t understand,” I stammered. “It’s all my fault. You don’t get it. It’s my fault. Because I went to James. They told me it was because I went to the police. They were following me.”
I spilled the whole thing and looked down at the hospital floor, waiting for Darling to answer. After exhaling loudly, she grabbed my hand between her two hands and patted it. “It was all meant to be. Whatever you did, it worked. You got my grandbaby back. And you both still alive. That’s all that matters.”
I looked up. That’s when I noticed Bobby standing in the doorway. Darling must have seen the look on my face because she turned. “Oh, good. You’re here now.”
She headed toward the door. “I’m going to let you two chat.” She turned back to me. “Sasha is in room 320. She wants to see you when you’re up to it.”
“Thanks, Darling.” I had a hard time taking my eyes off Bobby.
As soon as Darling left, he stepped inside shutting the door behind him.
The look on his face told me the ball was in my court.
“Darling called you?”
He nodded.
“I’m glad.” I said, figuring honesty was my best play.
He smiled. “I was thinking the same thing.”
I patted the bed beside me and he came over and sat down, not taking his eyes off my face. He looked at my cheek. “You okay?”
“I think so.”
“Good.”
Taking a deep breath, I spoke. “I was thinking about something while the doctor was stitching me up. It hurt like hell. Way worse than when it happened. Maybe all the adrenaline was gone or something but it really hurt and I was dumb enough to say I didn’t need it numbed.”
“Oops.”
“Yeah. Not the only thing I’ve been dumb about.” I glanced over at him under my eyelashes, but he didn’t react. “When the pain was at its worst, I was wishing you were here holding my hand, telling me that everything was going to be okay. But then I realized I’d blown it with you.”
Again, he didn’t move a muscle.
“As they were fixing my face, I thought about what my major malfunction was and I realized that I’m afraid.”
“Well, no kidding. I could’ve told you that. Hell, you already said that.”
I raised an eyebrow and went on. “True. But here’s why I’m afraid—in case it counts: Everyone I care about dies, Bobby. You know that. You’ve seen it. So, I realized that this irrational dumb part of me is afraid you’ll die, too.”
There. I said it.
He swallowed. ‘You’re afraid to make a commitment to me because of that.”
“It’s dumb, I know.” I reached for his hand. “I’m sorry.”
“You said everyone you care about dies. Do you have to make a commitment to me to care about me?”
“No!” I’d said it too loudly.
Then I thought about what he’d said. Of course, I cared about him whether I had a commitment to him or not. I couldn’t help it.
He leaned over and kissed my forehead. I drew back and cringed a little.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Does your whole face hurt?”
I didn’t answer.
“Well, good thing there are a lot more places I can put my mouth besides your face.”
Gingerly he touched the bandage. “You’re going to look bad ass with a scar.”
I laughed despite myself, but then grew serious. “So, you’re cool with having a girlfriend who looks like Tony Montana?”
“All I have in this world is my balls and my word and I don’t break ‘em for no one,” he said, quoting my favorite line in Scarface.
“Very funny,” I s
aid. “Your accent sucks by the way.”
Instead of answering, he leaned over me and kissed my neck, his mouth trailing down to my collarbone, and soon we were so caught up in each other’s bodies, I didn’t realize someone had opened the door until I heard the nurse gasp.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
“KING’S GONE.”
It was James.
“What?” I had been half asleep when my cell rang. “I thought he was in jail?”
“Something is going on. Somebody with a lot of power pulled some strings and he made bail this morning.”
I sat up shaking my head trying to clear it. Bobby sat up beside me, yawning.
“Who grants bail at ...” I looked at my clock. “Before eight in the morning?”
“Judge Conner apparently.”
“So, he’s gotta be on King’s payroll.”
“For sure. Proving it will be another matter. The San Francisco District Attorney has already put the judge on probation. Judge won’t be in court again soon, maybe ever.”
“When is King supposed to appear again?”
“Next week, but he’s in the wind.”
James explained. Since he’d made bail, all King’s bank accounts had been cleared out and his four houses—in Berkeley, Washington, D.C., New York City, and Miami—had mysteriously sold overnight after his arrest.
The FBI had put him on their most wanted list. The CIA was searching every corner of the world. Even Interpol was looking for him.
He was wanted for twelve murders. The ten homeless and poor that he’d murdered and put in barrels, along with the mayor’s murder and the slaying of Sasha’s source, a man pretending to go along with King in order to stop him. His name had been Josh. Guy was a goddamn hero if you asked me.
After I hung up, I sat there thinking about what James had said until Bobby pulled me over to him and woke me up properly.
Gia Santella Crime Thriller Boxed Set: Books 1-3 (Gia Santella Crime Thrillers) Page 31
