Chapter 33
CHAPTER
THIRTY-THREE
Willow
The bitch slaps me. She left for a little while, but I can only keep up the pretense for so long.
“Wake up, sunshine, it’s time to get moving.”
Glad they didn’t think to gag me—maybe there’s a reason for that, being nobody will hear my screams anyway—I hold my head high. “So you’re Bolt’s old lady?”
My eyes have adjusted to the dark, and I can make her out easily now. She bends down, her mouth forming a frown. “Shocker, you weren’t really unconscious that whole time. And it’s past tense since he’s dead.”
“Such a tragedy.”
“Don’t get smart with me or I’ll make Darius deal with you, and trust me, you don’t want that.”
“Fuck him, and fuck you,” I sneer. “The MC will come for me, and then you’ll be fucking begging for mercy.”
She chuckles. “Oh, poor Willow. You really think any of them are going to find you? Let’s examine the non-evidence, shall we?
I discarded your tracking device, plus your cell, and the cop car.
The cameras may capture the van at the pickup point, but there’s no way they have time to track it all the way here.
I doubt they’re that smart.” She brushes the hair off my face and I flinch.
“By the time they do, if they do, you’ll be long gone anyways. ”
I need to find out her plan of attack so I can better prepare myself. “Selling me to a trafficking ring? Is that your endgame? Not very original.”
“Oh, it’s not my endgame, honey. It’s the Directors.
They really don’t appreciate cops like you cleaning up this city.
They stood by and watched everything unfold with the mafia, the Cut City Boys, and numerous other participants, and now they can swoop in and take what’s rightfully theirs,” she says.
“I know. It sucks after all the hard work you’ve done, but that’s just the way the cookie crumbles.
Too bad you won’t be receiving any medals of honor this time around. ”
I spit in her face. She moves a hand to her cheek, wipes it off, then slaps me hard across my face. The sound ricochets off the walls. Fucking bitch.
“Is that all you’ve got?” I laugh. “You can’t fight fair, can you, Clare? Loosen these restraints and we can have it out for real.”
“Aren’t you a black belt and did kickboxing for fun?” she shudders. “No thanks, I think I’m good.”
“You’ve been doing your homework.”
“Some.”
“So let’s get this straight — you’re going after everyone who did Bolt wrong? Is that what this is all about?”
“Cops are so dumb, not that it really matters. You’ll be in Outer Mongolia or somewhere just as unpleasant soon, so there’s no point in keeping secrets anymore. You were all wrong about the Rooftop Killer,” she says. “Not that any evidence will point to me, of course—”
“You’re the Rooftop Killer?”
She pouts. “I was so looking forward to you joining all the dots together. I started with two losers who left Bolt to rot the day the MC raided the compound, then moved onto their loved ones just for fun. What’s the point of taking out one when you can take them all?”
She’s fucking crazy. “That last kill, at my old apartment, you did that to try and flesh me out? All you did was kill an innocent person for no good reason.”
“I got bored.” She smiles, and I wonder how I ever thought she was a nice person.
My god. I’m getting rusty in my old age.
“When the Directors wanted you to suffer, I was all in, being offered a deal that I couldn’t refuse.
I knew I could do it — lure you easily. Realistically, I should demand double the pay for what I just accomplished, perhaps I’ll request a raise. ”
“You won’t get away with it, and you’ll always be looking over your shoulder. Haze won’t stop until he finds you, and he won’t be lenient,” I tell her.
“Oh, I’m not worried about him, but it kinda sucks for your boyfriend Connor.”
My eyes widen. “He’s not my…” I trail off. “Wait, what did you do?”
“None of that is relevant, but let’s just say I covered my tracks.”
I may not have liked Connor after our first initial date, or him showing up at my ceremony unannounced, but I don’t wish him any ill will. “W-why?” I stammer. “What did he ever do to you?”
“Well, you cared about him, and honestly, this is about revenge, Willow, don’t you get it? He was just another casualty.”
“You killed him?”
“You ask a lot of questions.”
“So you just went on a killing spree?”
“There were only five people.” She rolls her eyes. “Trust me when I say they deserved it.”
“Six,” I correct. “You don’t have to do this. Bolt made his own decisions and life choices. You can’t go around blaming people because he couldn’t get his shit together.”
“It changed him, you know? Having a dad like that. Oh, trust me, Bolt was no angel, but it felt kinda poetic. I was finishing what Dead Bolt started, and even if I never knew the man, I can appreciate he stood for justice, too.”
“How can you say that? Not every person you or he killed were bad people. That isn’t justice, that’s murder.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” she says. “We’re vigilantes. Misunderstood. But I wouldn’t expect you to get any of that. Not that it matters now.”
“Who are the Directors?”
She tuts. “You have no idea how far this goes, do you? You think the raid that made you Captain was bad? That was child’s play. These men are ruthless beyond anything we’ve ever seen.”
“The cartel?”
“Guess again.”
“What does it matter if I know shit?” I spit at her. “I’m dead, anyway.” I need her to tell me. When I get out of this—and I will get out of it—I can find them and nail their asses. They can try to get rid of me, but I’ll fight to the death. I’m petty like that.
“You’re right, but weirder things have happened.
Or should I say, Stranger Things?” She laughs at her own joke.
“I want you to know it was my suggestion they sell you rather than just kill you. That way, they will prolong your agony as much as possible. Then you’ll finally understand why I had it in for you, and why I detest you so much for taking Aaron away from me. ”
The penny drops. “Did Bolt have a thing for me?” I laugh. “Is that what this is about? Jealousy? When I was undercover, ready to turn every damn one of them in, including him?”
She slaps me again, harder this time, and I know we have a winner.
If I can provoke her, maybe I can fight my way out of this before that horrible Darius guy comes back.
Granted, that is a little hard when my feet are bound, and hands tied.
Still, they tied my hands to the front, which really makes no sense.
These two idiots are rookies when it comes to hostages, even if my restraints are so tight, I can barely feel my feet and hands.
They clearly underestimated me, and most people do.
They don’t know how dirty I can fight, especially if it’s for my life.
“You don’t know shit!”
“That’s it, isn’t it? Oh, fuck, that is truly tragic. You thought you’d take everyone out who was ever a threat not just to you, but to Bolt because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.”
Smack.
“Just keep this up, and I’ll be sending the Directors your head,” she warns.
Yes, this is exactly what I want. Clare angry. If I can get her off guard, maybe, just maybe, I can knock her over. She’s still crouching, and far too close, but there’s a slight chance. And if there’s a chance, I’m gonna go for it.
“Wouldn’t that be a shame. What about the money?”
“You think I give a shit about that? It won’t bring Aaron back.”
I shrug. “Maybe you belong in Hell, with him and his dad.”
“I could fuck you up,” she warns. “I’d get less money, but I could say you struggled.”
“Like I said, hardly a fair fight when you have me tied up. Really pathetic when you think about it.”
She’s not backing down, though, poking me in the chest with a bony finger. “A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do, I’m sure you understand. It’s dog eat cat in this world, and the only thing that matters is getting out on top.”
“Oh, I guess you just forgot about one thing?” I sing, a little glee in my tone. If she has a gun, I’m fucking dead, but I’m gonna take my chances. I’m dead either way, and I’m not gonna go down without a fight.
“What, that Haze will be looking for you in places you’re not even going? I’ve got it all mapped out, don’t worry.”
Fuck her!
“No, that you’ll always be wondering how I did it.”
“Did what? Cried for help and nobody gave a shit?”
I smile, then dart my eyes over her shoulder. “Uh, oh, is that Darius? I guess I’d better be a good girl and we can have this conversation another time.”
She turns her head to listen for his arrival.
I know she doesn’t like him from her sneer when she mentioned his name, but it’s all the distraction I need.
I roll back on my ass—glad my Pilates days are finally paying off—and I launch my feet into her face as she turns back to face me.
It’s enough to make her go flying backwards, hitting her head on the concrete floor, yelping in surprise.
I dive on her, ramming my bound fists into her face, then I swing against her throat.
She gasps for air, but I don’t let up, using her chest as a launching board, I lift off her body and swing my knees into her ribs.
She still has the use of her hands and legs, and she claws at me, trying to throw me off.
One distinct disadvantage I have is that I’m small, therefore, I don’t weigh very much.
But she’s right when she gallantly told me I’d studied martial arts.
Yes, that’s true. It’s a hobby of mine, and I know every fucking move there is.
I push down on her throat again, holding my crossed wrists against her windpipe while she thrashes around underneath me, trying once more to throw me off.
I push all my weight into her, and she struggles against my hold.
“You’re fucking weak,” I mutter, my face close to hers. “Both my hands and feet are bound, and I’m still kicking your ass. Too bad about that raise, you fucking bitch, I guess I’ll just have to wait this out until I can figure out a way to kill Darius after I kill you.”
Her eyes widen, the adrenaline really must be coursing through her now, but that blow to her windpipe helped me gain a foothold.
She can’t breathe. I’m going to kill her, and I’ve never felt so good about doing something I’d normally loathe.
If I even let go an inch, she’ll take it, and it’ll be my head on that platter she so boldly boasted about.
Her struggling deteriorates, and I only squeeze harder.
In fact, I think the ropes made it that much worse for her.
I see the light fading from her eyes as her body goes limper by the second.
“Now you’ll get to see the devil himself in Hell.
Don’t you see? Good will always win out in the end, not evil,” I whisper.
“And if you’re going to abduct someone successfully, it’s probably best if their hands are bound behind their back. ”
I shove her head back into the concrete over and over and over until she’s paler than a sheet, her lifeless body on the floor. I don’t let up until I know she’s dead.
I roll off her, my heart racing a million miles an hour.
The bitch deserved it, and I don’t know how much time I have before Darius comes back. I use my feet to kick her over, checking her pockets—which is incredibly hard with just your fingers—she has a fucking gun! It’s tucked into the back of her jeans. Holy fuck.
I manage to pull it out, noting the safety is off. I shove it into the front of my yoga pants, thanking the lord that these two dipshits made a dumb mistake.
This is my way out. I have to untie my restraints, check the gun for ammunition and find my way out of here.
The fucking cell door is unlocked and open…
Move! I pull myself up, hopping over to the door.
The latch lifts, and a bolt secures it in this old-fashioned style lock.
The latch may cut through the ropes, they’re not thick, but they are tight.
It’s a long shot, but I maneuver my body so I’m hard up against the cell door, hoping the friction will be enough to at least cut through some of my ties and I can get myself free.
I can’t run out of here with my feet bound, and I sure as shit can’t shoot anyone with my hands tied.
I don’t know how much time I have, but this is my shot.
I’m coming, Haze.
I’m sorry. I love you.
We’re not done.