Chapter 19 Aria #2
I don’t have time to pause and assess or contemplate which way to go. There's nowhere to go. The uneven slab of concrete stretches endlessly, open and exposed. The few cars here are all parked behind me, but either way, they’re just as useless to me as the rest of the vast parking lot.
There’s a dumpster nearby.
I sprint toward it, aiming to dive behind the hulking, dented metal as a last resort, my ribs aching as my heels slam against the pavement. I reach it in a burst of speed that could rival an Olympian, hurl myself behind it, and drop low on my haunches.
My chest and lungs burn from my exertion, my heart ricocheting inside my chest. For a moment, it’s all I can hear. It’s impossible to steady my breath, my face twisting into a grimace as I attempt to pull myself together. I need to keep quiet. Think.
Worry strikes me when I think back to Ledger and Frankie. But they’ll be fine, right? That’s his friend. His partner. His boss. They won’t hurt them. It’s me they want. Moisture brims my lashes, but I keep the tears at bay, determined to stay as quiet as a mouse.
Eventually they’ll find me. Drag me out of my hiding spot.
A small whimper dies in my throat as I stifle it down. I should’ve already known there’s no other way out for me. Still, I ran. The brief, silent interaction between me and Ledger spurred me on.
The terror that flashed in his eyes sharpened my resolve to fight. It tugged at my nerves, fueling me with momentary hope, an ephemeral, useless feeling that I should’ve outgrown by now.
Don’t I already know how this’ll end?
But he gave me a knife.
I slip a hand into my front pocket, cringing as my fingers make contact with the sticky, thick liquid coating the blade. A revolting wave of nausea washes over me, and l lower my head between my crouched legs to fight off the dizziness from overtaking me.
What if he realizes he’s made a mistake, decides to take it back, and drags me inside himself?
It’s not like he has an alternative. Eventually, he’s going to come to his senses. Realize there’s no hope for me. Not when he has to choose between me and the people closest to him.
So what does this mean for me, then?
What am I going to do?
My head snaps up at the sound of encroaching footsteps, the heavy stomps getting louder, mirroring my heartbeat.
Carefully, I raise the knife, forcing the queasiness aside as I envision myself plowing it into whoever’s out there once they find me. But what if it’s Ledger?
My stomach folds in on itself. The blood pumping heavily in my veins suddenly turns ice cold.
A snarling voice slashes into the still air, “I’d come out now if I were you, little girl.” It’s not Ledger’s voice. My shoulders slouch forward, but my heart continues drumming. “You’ve already caused a great deal of trouble, don’t you think?”
His footsteps stop.
It isn’t Tanner’s voice, either. It’s the boss.
The one that wants me dead.
I bite hard on my lips, willing myself to find a way out of this, until the coppery tang of blood spreads through my mouth. My grip tightens around the blade cradled in my hand. My only source of defense.
If I’m going to go down, then I should at least leave my mark before I’m gone. Ledger would want that.
“I had a girl…a daughter once,” he says, his voice carrying a haunting edge. “She would’ve been more or less around your age.” He pauses for a beat. “None of us can escape death. Eventually, we all die.”
I swallow against the tightness in my throat. He sounds close.
“Tell you what. Come out on your own, and I’ll make sure it’s quick.”
I keep my eyes trained to the side, waiting for his leg to come into view. Both of my hands wrapped around the knife as I white-knuckle the handle.
He creeps forward. Closer. I can hear him.
My heart slams between my ribs, drowning out anything else he says, my vision tunneling as I focus on the open space to my left until the blurred fabric of his dark denim appears.
Immediately, I stab the first leg that pops into view before the second even has the opportunity to follow.
He roars in pain, but it’s quickly overshadowed by a swift gunshot, his bullet veering off course, missing me entirely.
Seizing the opening, I stab him again, this time driving into him with double the force. A sharp wail snaps his vocal cords. Raw. Guttural.
I smile, but I don’t have time to relish the win, because within a flash, his plump hands shoot out to clamp around my wrist, and before I know it, my back slams onto the hard ground.
My eyes roll around to the back of my head, a sob collapsing into a heaving gasp as his weight crashes down over me.
“You conniving little bitch,” he grits out, the muscles in his neck pulled taut as he grinds his teeth.
His hands lock around my throat. My own flail at my sides, desperately searching for my missing blade. I catch sight of it, still lodged in his flesh, but out of my reach.
The pistol lies in the dirt, inches from his hip, the silver metal glinting in the sunlight. He doesn’t reach for it.
Instead, he tightens his grip on my neck, squeezing until my mouth pops open. I can’t suck in air. My lungs burn, panic climbing higher in my chest as my vision spots.
Ledger.
Someone, help.
Unwilling to give up just yet, I swing a pathetic arm higher against the rubble, reaching for the gun.
He sees me struggling and laughs, a deranged, animalistic howl that makes me shudder beneath him.
“Still hanging on until the bitter end,” he mocks, his voice ragged with effort. “Well, this ends now.”