8. Chapter Eight Bash
Chapter Eight: Bash
W e stayed low, crouched behind a row of cars, the cold asphalt pressing against my palms. My heart pounded like a drum, but my breaths stayed steady. I couldn’t afford to lose my focus now, not with Skylar being dragged toward one of the SUVs. The bastards had him pinned, his struggles growing weaker under the sheer weight of their numbers. I wanted to tear into them, to break every bone in their bodies until Skylar was free. But I didn’t move. I couldn’t.
Justice’s sharp intake of breath beside me felt like a knife. Her body jerked against mine, her instincts screaming the same as mine: do something. I clamped my hand tighter around her wrist, pulling her back into the shadows, her wild eyes locking with mine.
“Bash—” she started, her voice a trembling whisper.
“Not now,” I hissed, low and firm. “We can’t—”
“They’ll take him,” she cut in, her voice breaking. “We can’t just—”
“We survive first,” I said, my words harsh but steady. “We’ll come back for him.”
Her chest heaved, her pale face twisting in anguish, but she nodded. Reluctantly. I didn’t loosen my grip on her wrist as I dragged us deeper into the labyrinth of parked cars.
“Come on. We have to move. We’re sitting ducks here.”
The parking lot was a maze, each turn and row a potential death trap. We weaved through sedans and trucks, keeping our heads low and our profiles smaller than shadows. I chanced a glance back towards the SUV. One of the goons lit a cigarette, its flare momentarily illuminating the rough outline of Skylar's face. He looked almost serene in his surrender, like a wax figure in a museum display titled "Defeated Hero."
I tore my eyes away and tightened my grip on Justice's wrist. She stumbled but didn't protest. Not verbally, at least; her silence was a loud, seething thing. We rounded a corner, and I spotted an emergency exit, its red sign glowing like salvation.
“Almost there,” I muttered, more to myself than to her.
The sound of boots echoed against the pavement, growing louder, closer. Vito’s men were thorough, systematic. They weren’t leaving until they had all of us.
I darted forward, Justice close on my heels, the faint glow of the maintenance exit guiding me. We moved like shadows, quick and silent, my ears tuned to every shuffle of gravel, every creak of leather. My mind raced ahead, calculating paths, exits, and contingencies we might never need—or worse, wouldn’t get the chance to use.
The headlights of a nearby SUV swung wide, briefly illuminating our hiding spot. Justice gasped, and I pressed her down against the wheel well of a truck, holding her there until the beam passed. My heart thudded against my ribcage, but I didn’t let it show. She needed me steady.
“We’re almost there,” I whispered. “Keep moving.”
We slinked along the edges of the lot, the warm winter air cutting through my clothes. Every muscle in my body was a coiled spring, ready to explode, but I forced myself to stay calm, to stay in control. This wasn't the first time we’d been in a tight spot, though it was certainly the worst.
From behind us came the sound of a heavy door opening and closing, then muffled voices and hurried footsteps. I stole another glance back and saw one of Vito’s men talking into a walkie-talkie. The headlights from the SUVs cast shifting shadows across the lot, distorting their silhouettes as they moved purposefully, like wolves closing in. The others were piling into their vehicles, engines growling to life like waking beasts.
The maintenance exit of the parking lot loomed ahead, a promise of escape that felt too good to be true. My stomach churned with unease as we approached it, but I didn’t slow. Relief was short-lived when movement to my left caught my eye—a sharp interruption of stillness. Then they appeared—two men stepping into our path, guns raised, their movements sharp and deliberate.
My body went cold.
I moved instinctively, positioning myself in front of Justice, my hands already raised in surrender.
One of the men, a tall, gaunt figure with sunken cheeks and a perpetual scowl, barked an order: “Stop right there!” The other was stockier, built like a bulldog, with a face just as mean. Both sets of eyes bore into us with professional detachment.
The taller man advanced a step, his gun unwavering. The smaller one lingered behind, his lips twitching as if he relished the power of holding us in his sights. Justice’s breath came in shallow bursts. I could almost hear the wheels in her head turning, looking for an out, a miracle. But there weren’t any. We were spent.
“Bash…” she whispered, her voice so small it could’ve fit in the palm of my hand.
“Quiet,” I muttered back, more out of habit than hope. We were beyond saving ourselves with words.
My jaw clenched so hard it ached, but I forced myself to stay calm. They didn’t fire. They weren’t here to kill. That was our only advantage.
“You’re coming with us,” one of them said, his voice low and gravelly. The barrel of his gun didn’t waver as he jerked it toward us.
Justice stiffened behind me, her breath catching. I knew her well enough to see the wheels turning in her head, to feel the tension in her body as she searched for a way out.
“Don’t,” I muttered under my breath, just loud enough for her to hear. She hesitated. “Please.”
She exhaled slowly, and I felt her hands rise beside me, mirroring mine. My shoulders sagged slightly in relief, but only slightly. I couldn’t let my guard down. Not for a second.
The gaunt man motioned us forward with his gun, the barrel tracing lazy arcs through the air. "Slowly," he said, the single word dripping with the kind of confidence that comes from knowing you're holding all the cards.
We stepped towards them, our movements measured, deliberate. I could feel Justice's reluctance in every inch she gave, like a tightrope walker taking that first perilous step. My mind raced ahead, trying to anticipate their play. Would they throw us in one of the SUVs? Take us to Vito directly? The uncertainty gnawed at me, but I held it together. We needed a clear head if we were going to—fuck. I didn’t even know what we were going to do.
The gaunt man stepped forward, his eyes flicking between us like a snake sizing up its prey. "Vito just wants to talk," he said, though even he didn't seem convinced of the lie. He pulled a pair of zip ties from his pocket and tossed them to the bulldog. "Make it quick."
The gaunt man took a step closer, his eyes flicking between us with surgical precision. "Hands on your heads. Slow."
We complied, our movements deliberate and measured. The bulldog shifted his weight, taking a wider stance, his trigger finger tensed but not white-knuckled. These guys were pros, the kind who didn’t need to posture to be threatening.
"Your friend will be fine," the gaunt man said. "As long as you cooperate." His words hung in the air, thin as razor wire. Promises like that were worthless, but it was all we had to cling to.
The zip ties bit into my wrists as they restrained us, yanking us toward the middle of the lot. I stumbled once, and the sharp jab of a gun barrel in my back urged me forward. Justice was dragged beside me, her face a mask of fury and fear. My stomach twisted as the men stopped, their radios crackling with static and terse commands.
“Split them up.”
I went rigid. The air around us felt heavier, suffocating. The bastards didn’t even bother lowering their voices. My mind raced, my thoughts a chaotic mess as they pulled me toward a black SUV. Justice’s voice broke through the noise, sharp and desperate.
“Wait—no! You can’t—”
I turned my head sharply, my eyes locking with hers as they shoved me toward the door. I mouthed the only thing I could manage. “Don’t fight.”
I wanted her to stay alive. I needed her to stay alive.
The bulldog grabbed Justice’s arm and pulled her back. She resisted, planting her feet, but he was too strong. The gaunt man opened the SUV door, and I felt a rush of cool air from the interior. My options flickered in my mind like a dying neon sign—none of them good, all of them desperate.
"Bash!" Justice screamed, and I whipped around just in time to see her sink her teeth into the bulldog's hand. He yelped and swung his injured fist at her, but she ducked and spun away, running back toward me.
"Fuck!" I spat, lunging out of the gaunt man's grasp. He was quicker than he looked, and his hand shot out, grabbing my shoulder and yanking me back with a force that sent me sprawling against the side of the SUV. Pain exploded in my ribs, sharp and immediate.
Justice was almost to us, her eyes wild. The gaunt man raised his gun, aiming past me and straight at her. Time stretched, each second an eternity. I saw Justice's face change—a dawning realization mixed with sheer terror—but she didn't slow.
A shot rang out.
Justice stumbled, her body jerking to one side. My heart stopped cold in my chest as I watched her crumple to the asphalt.
“Next time, I’ll aim for your chest,” the man said as he approached her. “Now, are you going to behave?”
Justice lay on the ground, clutching her shoulder, her face contorted in agony. Blood seeped through her fingers, a dark, spreading stain on her blouse. The gaunt man stood over her, his silhouette cutting a cold figure against the parking lot’s dim lighting.
“Answer me,” he growled, kicking her lightly in the leg. Justice winced but didn’t scream. She was tougher than anyone I’d ever known, but even she had her limits. My heart pounded against my ribcage, each beat a painful reminder of my own helplessness.
“Yes,” I yelled, drawing the gaunt man’s attention away from her. “She’ll behave. We’ll both behave.”
He turned to me slowly, appraisingly, like a butcher deciding which cut of meat to take first. His eyes were sunken pits, and I imagined I could see the bottom of his soul in them—empty and cavernous.
The bulldog caught up to us, cradling his bitten hand with a snarl on his lips. “Crazy bitch,” he muttered, glaring daggers at Justice. He looked like he wanted to put a bullet in her right then and there, but he wasn’t stupid enough to cross the line. Or maybe he just wasn’t angry enough…yet.
The bulldog massaged his bitten hand and glared daggers at Justice. "Tough little bitch," he muttered, then turned his ire toward me. "Get in the car."
I hesitated, looking from Justice to the gaunt man and back again. They had us. There was no point in resisting further—Justice’s reckless play had bought us nothing but more pain.
“You said you weren’t going to hurt her,” I said as another man pushed me into an SUV.
My voice cracked with the mix of anger and fear that churned in my gut. The gaunt man shrugged, a casual, almost bored gesture.
"We didn't plan to," he said. "But plans change."
The door slammed shut, muffling the sounds of Justice struggling as they hauled her to another vehicle. I banged my head lightly against the seat’s plush leather, cursing under my breath. She always had to make things harder.
Yet, I couldn’t blame her. We were in this mess because of me—because she had never even wanted to be part of this world until I had dragged her into it.
The SUV roared to life, and my thoughts drowned in the hum of the engine. I strained to see out the tinted windows, catching glimpses of Justice as she was thrown into another vehicle. The pain in my chest wasn’t just from the blow to my ribs; it was the knowledge that I might never see her again, that she might not forgive me for any of this.
The vehicle lurched forward, and I was thrown back against the seat. My wrists throbbed where the zip ties cut into them. I tested their strength, twisting my hands slowly—useless.
The SUV sped through the night, the low growl of the engine filling the silence. My guards were focused ahead, their movements confident, too sure of themselves. Idiots. They thought I was broken, another piece of cargo to be delivered to their boss.
I flexed my hands, testing the zip ties, cataloging every detail—the slack in their postures, the way their weapons were holstered just out of reach, the uneven road that jostled the vehicle. Every bump, every flicker of light from the streetlamps above burned into my mind.
They thought they had me. They thought this was over.
They were dead wrong.
I was going to get out of here, get Justice back, and I was going to kill every last one of them.