by Rachel Shane
It’s not hard to figure out what happened next. Josephine and Chuck make it out, camera in hand. But Omar doesn’t. And the mysterious boy who hid in the room and caused the fire spent the next twenty years blackmailing the Tullys into silence while he stole all the credit for their song.
“I just want to be clear on something,” Sabrina says. “That guy running behind the streamers. The one who started the fire? That was Dennis, right?”
Isla nods. “Had to be. He’s kind of, um, cute.”
A loud knock on the door interrupts me. We all jump up, startled. Ty rises from his bed as if he’s about to get the door. But what if it’s the romance novel guy? And what if that guy is in fact Dennis? “Who is it?” I scream before Ty puts us all in danger.
Ty gives me a what-the-hell look.
Outside the door, a familiar voice yells, “Let me in!”
Gavin?
My heart lurches. He sounds frantic.
Sabrina gasps and rushes to the door. “Gavin!”
“Jan!” Gavin yells again. “Let me in!”
I freeze. Jan. Not Moxie.
“No!” I grab her arm as she passes me. “Something’s wrong. He would never call me Jan.”
“Jan! I know you’re in there! We saw you go into the building.”
We.
My insides turn to ice.
She stops. “Oh, God. What do we do?”
“Isla, take the tape and leave out the fire escape. Call the police.”
Isla grabs the tape, flips open the window locks, and then he slides the window open.
“Jan!” Gavin calls again. The banging increases. Louder. My pulse amps in league with his frantic banging.
Tears well up in Sabrina’s eyes. “He sounds so scared?”
I wheel on her. “Sabrina, you go with her. Ty too.”
He’s already halfway out the window when I suggest that. Sabrina starts to shake her head but I give her a fierce look that sends her scurrying to the window. I need to get the others safe. I need to face this alone.
I need to rescue Gavin the way he rescued me by letting me into his life.
No time to close the window. I take a deep breath and head for the door, hoping the answer to his whereabouts isn’t a dangerous one.
When I pull the door open, Gavin stands in front of me wearing sunglasses, but his mouth is twisted in a grimace. He lets out a whimper makes me wonder if he’s disappointed it was me that opened the door. I squint at him, trying to make sense of what the hell is going on, and then my eyes fly to his stomach where his hands are bound in zip ties. Someone next to him steps into view and pushes him violently into the room. Gavin falls on top of me and we both crash to the floor. Without removing his hands from his pockets, he tries to stand up, looking like I imagine a T-rex would move without use of his forearms.
“Get up,” the man that pushed Gavin shouts, aiming a gun directly at my face. My blood stills as I scramble off Gavin and put my hands up, stepping directly between him and the guy I love.
The gunman’s long, flowy hair obscures part of his face as if he’s auditioning to be on the cover of a romance novel. His chiseled jaw and eyebrows sculpt into a groomed arch. He looks plastic, but still unbelievably gorgeous, like a mannequin. He’s an older version of the guy from the video. The elusive Dennis Cunningham.
He waves the gun. “How’d you know her name, Gavin?”
Panic seizes my throat but Gavin remains calm. “I called here and she answered.” He sounds rehearsed. He prepared this answer in advance.
“Ty’s my boyfriend,” I add quickly in case Dennis spots any identifying names in the room.
Dennis scans us for a moment, his blue eyes flicking back and forth between us. I don’t dare look at Gavin. My heart thumps in my chest, beating like it’s trying to break a world record. I take deep, calming breathes through my nose.
Dennis tucks his hair behind his ear, revealing a cell phone ear-piece. “Yeah, I’m in. Can you still hear me?” He listens for a moment, and then turns his attention back on us. “You two try anything funny, and Mario will hear it. Gavin, you know what that means.”
He gulps. “Mario’ll kill my parents,” he chokes out.
Icy terror climbs my spine. That threat must be what kept Gavin from shouting for help while walking to the dorm.
Another thought occurs to me. M + D. Mario and Dennis.
Dennis slides open the closet. The one nearest to the door. Not the one the tape came from. It’s only a matter of minutes before he finds the hole in the correct closet.
I hold my breath. Gavin’s entire body stiffens. He must be thinking the same thing.
“Get inside.” Dennis swings the gun toward me and then the closet.
I hesitate, scanning the room for a loophole. If I’m trapped in the closet, I can’t save Gavin. Dennis’s finger presses down on the trigger ever so slightly. “Now,” he breathes, the word quiet and menacing.
Gavin gives me the slightest of nods so I crawl inside the closet. Shoes jab me and I try not to cry out. Not to show weakness. Even though my entire body rattles in convulsions.
“Now you.” He shoves Gavin into the closet. Gavin’s head slams against the wall, and his sunglasses fall off. A large purple bruise surrounds his eyes. My stomach lurches. He’s been hurt.
“Stay quiet.” He slams the door shut on us, sealing us into darkness.
I reach up to touch Gavin’s cheek, running my fingers softly along the bruise. He leans into my touch, breathing hard, before wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close. “I wish this was a different closet,” he whispers into my ear.
I stifle a laugh at the way he turns the most dire situation into something comforting. I have a million questions for him but none of them matter right now. The only thing that matters is getting out of here. I tilt his head to whisper in his ear. “Sabrina has it. They’re calling 911. We need to stall until they arrive.”
Loud banging sounds from outside the door drowns Gavin out. Each thump wrenches a beat from my heart.
He buries his face into my neck, his breath is hot. “I stalled as long as possible. I was hoping you’d be gone. He had surveillance on the 90C door and was waiting for the occupant to leave, but when he saw three girls enter, he’d use me to try to get your attention and get in that way.”
My chest aches. If we had taken the tape and watched it elsewhere, we may never have found Gavin.
Dennis screams in frustration. “Mario, ask Chuck which fucking wall he put the tape in. Tell him he has one minute to give me the exact location or he can say goodbye to his son.”
I swallow. Thank God Chuk has been holding out on the location because the second Dennis finds the hole in the closet may be our last second alive.
“How’d he kidnap you?” I ask Gavin, quickly. If I get all the info, maybe I can puzzle it together and find a way out of this situation. If I know Dennis’s tactics, I can exploit them.
“The phone call from Friday. After speaking to my parents, I suspected the tape was still at large. My parents were too scared of Dennis to do anything and they still believed they were at fault for Omar’s death, so I called Dennis and asked him to meet with me Saturday at Lockhart. I wanted to find the tape and then use it to get him to drop the blackmail. But—”
“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Dennis yells. He stomps to what I presume is the other closet.
I squeeze Gavin’s hand. “But what?” I prompt. Anything to distract us.
“Dennis found me on campus before I could get the tape. He knew what I looked like—”
Dennis yanks the other closet door open. “Noooo!”
Loud footsteps signal his approach toward our closet. Gavin and I separate from each other just before Dennis wrenches open the closet door. My rapid pulse beats in my neck. His narrowed eyes, sweat-dripped face, and angry expression knock the wind out of me. He looks psycho, which I guess is an accurate description.
Dennis points the gun at me. “Come he
re,” he coaxes like a snake charmer. “Both of you.”
I peel myself out of the closet and wobble to a standing position. Gavin shoulders the wall to help him up and follows behind.
“Where the fuck is it?” Though Dennis speaks in a calm, annunciated tone, he points the gun at my heart. Something tells me he’ll have perfect aim. I contemplate which would be worse: a gunshot wound or heart failure. I suck in jagged breaths, but I can’t get enough air into my lungs.
I lift my chin. “I have no idea. It wasn’t in the hole.” Stall. I need to stall. “I probably didn’t look in the right spot.”
His eyes flick to the closet as if he’s considering this lie as the truth. “Who are you?”
I’m about to open my mouth and utter something cheesy, like “I’m your worst nightmare,” but Gavin answers before I can. “I hired her. She’s a private investigator.”
Dennis snorts. “You look a little young there.”
I think back to the last time Gavin had me pretend to be someone else. I wore a disguise. This could work here. “I’m undercover. Trying to blend in as a student.”
“Both of you, get into that closet where I can see you. You,” he points to me, “Grab that hammer. You’re going to tear up the wall until you find the tape.”
I trudge toward Ty’s bed where Dennis left the hammer and pick it up. The weight feels heavy in my hands. If I swing it fast, I could take out Dennis by the knees. But a gun is faster than a blunt object. Gavin gives me the tiniest shake of his head as if he’s guessing what I’m thinking.
He’s right. Stalling is smarter. The police will be here soon. If I can hold out a little longer…
Gavin makes the decision for me, crawling into the closet and burying himself along the far wall. I squeeze in next to him and prepare to take my time. Which means I can use words and actions to stall. “How do you know Chuck Tully’s not lying to you? Why would a tape still be here after twenty years?”
Behind me, I hear Gavin’s in-take of breath. To cover it, I smash the hammer into the wall, making an easier dent than the gold trophy enabled me earlier.
“If Chuck Tully had it, he’d have sued me when he had the chance.”
I smack the wall again, picturing Dennis’s face. “But why didn’t Chuck ever come back for it if it was the key to a million dollar lawsuit?”
Under his breath, Gavin warns through gritted teeth. “Moxie.”
Come on, Dennis, play along.
“Because he thought I had it all these years. I tried to trap him once, telling him I had it so he could reveal that he’d destroyed it and I’d know there was no more evidence. But he believed me. Which meant the tape was still out there, hidden somewhere. I’ve been searching for it for two decades.”
I gasp, realizing that once Dennis knew the evidence was missing, he stole the song and blackmailed Chuck to keep him thinking the tape was still missing. I slam the hammer against the wall in anger.
Familiar guitar chords carry into the room from outside. Loud, like someone is playing just below the fire escape. Isla’s voice sings the first line, “Earplugs stuffed into my ear” of Breaking Free of Silence. Her vocal talent isn’t on the same level as her guitar talent.
Gavin’s head snaps up.
“What the hell?” Dennis side-steps toward the window, keeping his eyes on us. “How does she know this version?”
I listen more closely. She’s playing Chuck’s slower ballad version. Not the famous pop song.
Dennis’s eyes flick to the VCR. The red light indicates the device is on. Before I have a chance to react or defend myself, he charges for the closet. I press myself tight against the wall, but he bypasses me. He grabs Gavin by the hair and yanks him out of the closet. Gavin whimpers. Upright, Dennis secures his arms around Gavin’s chest, and digs the gun into his scalp. Gavin thrashes against Dennis, trying to get out of his clutches.
“Tell me where the tape is, or…” Dennis flicks a lever on the gun, loading a bullet into the barrel. He glances at me impatiently.
My heart flutters in my chest as if it’s about to sprout wings and take flight. Black spots pop in front of my eyes, and nausea sets in from lack of air. I’ve felt like this before. Right before I collapsed and got sent to the hospital. I’m going to pass out.
I consider saying my last prayers, but instead I pray for a plan. In a life or death situation, you have to make a choice: fight or flight. There’s no way I’d choose to run, and this gives me an idea.
“I was trying to distract you.” On the word distract, I look pointedly at Gavin. He’s given me cryptic clues this whole time, hopefully he’ll be just as skilled at deciphering them.
His eyes meet mine, and he stops fighting against Dennis and stills. Waiting.
I allow my knees to give out. It’s a mix of acting and reality, and I try to break my fall as much as possible with my legs so my head doesn’t slam into the ground. I’m not perfect at this, and my face meets the gray carpeting with a thud.
As Dennis’s attention focuses on my fallen form, Gavin lifts his knee like he’s in mid-march and slams his heel backward onto Dennis’s crotch. I guess being tall has its advantages.
“Oof.” Dennis doubles over in pain, moaning, still clutching the gun.
Gavin kicks him in the shin. Then the hand. Dennis lets go of the gun and it slides across the floor toward me. I’m weak and barely have the energy to move, but I’ve never let my hardships get me down before. I muster all the strength I can and dive for the gun. As soon as my fingers enclose around it, my heart slows to a more normal pace and the calming breaths help soothe me. I stand up.
“You may have tied my hands,” Gavin says. “But you underestimated my feet.” He uses his foot to knock the earpiece out of Dennis’s ear. Without hands, he can’t pick it up, so he kicks it toward me.
“Get in the closet, Dennis.” I point the gun at him. I’m not going to kill him, of course, but I still mean business. I’ve watched a lot of movies. If I shoot his leg, he won’t get away.
Dennis must realize I’m not messing around because he crawls toward the closet. I pick up the earpiece and insert it into my ear.
“Mario, hi.” I keep the gun trained on Dennis while I talk. “If you don’t hand Josephine the phone and let the Tullys go, I’m going to kill Dennis.”
The person on the other end sucks in his breath. There’s some shuffling and then heavy breathing. “Gavin?” Josephine asks desperately.
“He’s all right. Are you safe?”
Dennis whimpers like a little girl inside the closet.
“Mario’s untying Chuck now. Thank you, Moxie. He had the gun pointed at him, he was about to…” She breaks.
A knock on the door startles me. My attention diverts to the window where two police officers crawl through.
“Drop the gun, miss.”
Present Day
As soon as the officers apprehend Dennis and unlock Gavin’s handcuffs, I rush to him. His arms engulf me, and we kiss, our mouths greedy, like it’s our last kiss instead of the start of something. “Thank you,” he whispers into my ear.
“Ahem.” One of the officers clears his throat. “Let’s get your statements.” He leads out of the crime scene. In the elevator, he forces us to remain silent so we don’t screw up our stories. I have so many questions, and I’m jealous the police will get answers before I do.
After paramedics check us out, the police officer whisks us to the station so we can give our statements. They separate Gavin and me, and I’m ushered into an interrogation room alone.
The barren room reminds me of the warehouse, and I can’t help the tears that stream down my face. The officer pulls a tissue out of a pack form his pocket and slides it to me across the faux wooden desk. I calm down, and he asks for Krystal’s number. He puts the phone on speaker. “Is Ms. Crane there? This is Officer O’Toole. I’m calling about your daughter.”
“She’s in jail?” She groans. “How much do I need to bail her out?”
/> Of course. She would jump to that conclusion. But at least her first instinct is to post bail.
Officer O’Toole informs her about the situation, and she permits me to give a statement without her presence. He offers me the choice of waiting for her to arrive or giving one without her, but since she has no way of getting here, I decide to get it over with.
Plus, I’m not in any trouble here. For once.
I rush through the story, answering the officer’s questions like I’m auditioning to be an auctioneer. I deflect accusations that I kidnapped Sabrina, as Mrs. Waverly so graciously reported. The officer nods sympathetically, so I know he must believe me. He releases me into the lobby and asks me to stick around until my mother arrives. I try to remind him she’s not coming, but he seems unconcerned.
Inside the lobby, a receptionist sits behind a desk with stacks of papers nearly caging her in. Phones ring off the hook, and officers mill about. The entire place is painted the same dreary mustard color of the linoleum floor, like a dull version of Ty’s yogurt palace. Isla and Sabrina rise from plastic chairs when they see me.
“Is Gavin okay?” Sabrina’s throat hitches. Her eyes are puffy and red. “They made us come here before we saw you guys.”
“He’s bruised up. I guess he’s still in the interrogation room.”
Suddenly, Sabrina launches at me and tackles me in a hug. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
She lets go, and her eyes are filled with tears.
“Did my guitar playing work? It did right?” Isla asks, excitedly.
I snort. “No, you almost got Gavin killed.” I tell the girls what happened.
“It totally did work!” Isla claps her hands when I finish.
“Because if Gavin didn’t get held at gun point, you wouldn’t have thought of the heart thing, and Gavin couldn’t have been close enough to kick Dennis. I’m a genius. You can thank me later.”
I’ve always had mixed feelings for Isla, and I’m not surprised I have them now. She may be right, or maybe I could have stalled long enough for no one to be in danger. But if that happened, would Mario have killed Gavin’s parents?
