Chapter Eight
Half asleep, I head to the toilet and release my bladder before flushing the toilet.
As I step toward the door, I hear a rustling noise. Quickly, I turn in time to see someone step up beside me. The man reaches for me, so I bolt from him, rushing back into the bathroom to get away. He grabs onto me, hand snaking around to clamp over my mouth as he presses a gun against my head.
“Scream, and I’ll blow your brains out,” the man says right into my ear.
I swallow hard as he pulls me against him and in the light of the bathroom I see that it is the red-haired man that had been with Victor Red.
He pushes me forward, but my foot catches on the jeans I’d tossed.
Stumbling forward, my shin slams into the edge of the tub as I grab onto the shower curtain to keep myself from falling.
The sudden movement must startle him because I feel his grip loosen.
Twisting away from him, I run for the door, but not before he grabs me around the waist and presses the gun harder against my head.
What startles me even more, is another gun pointed in my direction.
Lane is holding this one from where he’s at in the bed.
“Let him go,” Lane growls.
“Let him go? Cute. You killed my brother, and I’m supposed to just ‘let him go’?
What are you going to do with that gun? You’re blind!
I might have been a little nervous before, but now you can’t tell the difference between me and him.
I think before I kill you, I’ll let you listen to me torturing him.
What do you say? Do you like that idea?”
“I don’t,” I say.
“Shut up,” he says as he hits me on the side of the head with the gun.
My head screams at me, reminding me that it still is very angry about the last time I’d run into this guy.
Lane is holding the gun steady, but quite frankly I agree with my captor on this one. I don’t want to be shot, especially by Lane.
In perfect Spanish, Lane says, “ Down. Hit the floor when you’re down . One, two, three .” Clearly, he’d known exactly what I’d spat at him on the way to the elevator.
I drop down quickly and hit the floor as a muffled shot fills the room. I hear the man behind me fall back as I jump to my feet and run for Lane.
“Did I hit him?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say as I look back at the man choking on his own blood in the light of the bathroom. The bullet had torn right into his chest and blood was blossoming out as he gasped for breath.
“Come on, I’m sure he’s not the only one,” he says as he grabs my hand.
I nod. “Where?”
“We need to find a car.”
“We need clothes,” I say, realizing that I have underwear on and that is it.
“We don’t have time, just put your shoes on so we can run if we have to.”
I stuff my shoes on as I shove his at him, then I pull open the door as I grab his wrist, sliding my hand down until our fingers are intertwined. I drag him after me toward the elevator, but they’re both already headed up. “Elevators are headed up.”
“Get to the stairs.”
I nod and yank a door open. We begin to rush down them until Lane’s arm snaps me to a stop. My foot slips and if I hadn’t been holding onto Lane, I probably would have fallen. Then again, if I hadn’t been holding onto Lane, I wouldn’t have been snapped backward.
“I don’t like this,” he warns me. “I feel like I’m going to fall.”
“Sorry! Two feet and then a step.”
He nods and inches forward until his foot dips over the edge, but once he has a rhythm, he descends quickly as long as I tell him every time it levels out. As we near the last door leading out, I hear a commotion beyond it.
“Someone’s coming,” I say as the shouting on the other side of the door increases.
“Is there anywhere to hide?” he asks as we reach the first floor.
I look around and pull him back behind the stairs, where it is shadowed enough that we can tuck ourselves into the corner.
I pull him close to me and he wraps his arms around me, holding me against him.
My heart is beating so loudly that I feel it in my ears, but as I lean against him, I notice he’s completely steady.
There’s not even a tremor in his body as he holds the gun casually at his side.
His arm is keeping me pressed against him, like a barrier to protect me.
The door leading to the stairs slams open and I jump, but Lane’s arm tightens around me. And for some reason, I take that moment to remember that we are both wearing nothing but our underwear.
Perfect.
I can’t see them, but I can hear them as they rush up the stairs, and with the pounding of their feet, my heart races. I dig my fingers into Lane’s arm, trusting the security of it.
“Okay, let’s go,” Lane says as he pushes me forward.
I take his hand and lead him to the door the men had just come in through.
I pull it open and look down the hallway, but it appears to be empty of life.
As we step into the hallway, I see signs for a tunnel that leads to the parking garage.
I quickly take the first right and rush down the hall as I follow the signs.
“Look casual, Felix. You feel like you’re anxious and if anyone sees you, they’ll know something is up,” he says, voice even like we are having a regular conversation.
“Look casual?” I hiss. “Someone’s trying to kill us! And just in case you forgot…we’re in our underwear. Real damn casual.”
“Stop it. Calm down. We are fine.”
I want to say that we’re not, but he sounds like some monk trying to teach tranquility, so I just take a deep breath.
I reach the door to the parking garage and push it open.
“Where are we?” Lane asks.
“Parking garage.”
“Find a car that has keys in it,” he says as we step into the darkened garage. The lights are dim and the air smells dense and dirty like car exhaust.
“You’re kidding. There isn’t going to be a car sitting here with keys in it!” I hiss.
“Well, you better hurry, I hear someone.”
“I need some way to break in.”
I rush up to a car with a thin antenna and break it off before rushing up to an older car.
I have honestly never picked a car lock before.
I am not even positive if it’s possible.
When breaking into cars, I usually went under the door’s seal and just hit the unlock button with a long rod.
But, I guess there is only one way to find out if it is as easy as picking other locks.
“Found them!” someone yells, and I hear the sound of cement crumbling behind me where a bullet had struck a pillar. Lane yanks me down.
“Move!” he says as he drags me away from the car I’d crouched next to.
“But—”
“Now!” he snaps as he pushes me down into a crouch. He runs one hand along the side of the car as he begins to move.
I can’t see anyone, but I can tell that they’re far too close to us. I shuffle on my hands and knees as Lane pulls me after him. When we reach the hood of the car, Lane feels his way over to the next car.
“Where’d they go?” a man asks.
“They’re near the blue car,” another says.
I stop as I realize that we’ve run out of cars in this aisle to hide behind.
“There’s nowhere else to go,” I whisper.
Lane seems to be concentrating as he keeps his head bowed. “Break the window, get the car open.”
I slip the thin antenna in the key lock as I notice Lane stands up and begins shooting.
What the hell is he shooting at?
I jiggle it as Lane reaches over and touches the car window a moment before he shoots it. I jump, startled as he breaks away the jagged glass with the butt of his gun.
“Door is unlocked,” he says.
“Uh…great.”
“You’ve been arrested before for stealing cars. You can start it, I assume?” he asks.
“And you know that why?” I ask as I slip my hand through the busted window, careful of the glass still attached.
I pull the lock up and climb inside. I reach for the paneling when I see a toolkit on the floor and right in the middle is a drill.
I pick it up and pull the trigger. It revs to life and I am pleased to see it has full power.
I set it against the ignition and start drilling.
The bit screams as I ram it into the ignition until it gives.
Then I grab a screwdriver and shove it inside.
I turn it like I would a key and the car roars to life.
“Let me in,” Lane says as he ducks in through the driver’s door. I pull him as he scrambles over top of me and into the passenger seat.
The moment he’s sitting, I shove the car into reverse and press down on the gas.
We lunge out of the parking spot and into the aisle.
I quickly shove the car into drive, but I’m not sure I had to be too quick because as I head for the exit I see a man lying on the ground clutching onto a very precise bullet wound.
“You hit him?” I ask, astounded. I mean, I would have probably been less surprised if they had shot themselves.
“I did? I mean…of course.”
“Of course?” I ask skeptically.
He hesitates. “I don’t know, Felix, they had to have walked into the bullet or maybe it ricocheted. Let’s just narrow it down to luck.”
“Uh huh, sure. Luck. Well, let’s hope your luck doesn’t run out. Where am I going?”
“I don’t care, just go somewhere,” he says as I reach the garage’s automatic gate. The arm is down, but it doesn’t stand a chance against the car. It breaks the moment we hit it and Lane jumps.
“What was that?”
“The gate…arm…thingy,” I say. “I didn’t think we had time to pay for parking while driving a stolen vehicle.”
“Probably not,” he says.
I glance both ways before rushing out onto the road.
A car blares its horn at me, but I’m gone before they can even get a good look at me.
I drive quickly as I bite my lip in nervousness.
My heart is pounding in my chest as I tighten my grip on the steering wheel.
I’m assessing each red light as we come upon it.
If it is red, I leap into the right lane, so I can keep moving, if it’s green, I plow on through.
“Hey,” Lane says as he sets his hand on my leg. “You need to calm down. You’re driving recklessly.”