12
CHRIS
“I’m bored,” Dima said.
Chris looked up from his computer. “Jay should be here in a few hours to replace you. I can order you something to eat.”
“I’m not bored in my stomach. How’s your gun?”
“My gun? It’s fine.”
“Let’s go shoot.”
Chris glanced at his watch. “Now?”
“Yes, to practice. Unless you have a solution to the money problem.”
He didn’t, which was why he was meeting Oscar this evening to have the kind of conversation he never imagined he’d ever have.
“You don’t have a solution, and you don’t practice with your gun. You’ll regret it. I know a good shooting place.”
“Westside Rifle and Pistol Range?”
“Not that one.”
“It’s a fifteen-minute walk from here.” The thought of getting out to practice felt more appealing the more he thought about it. It would also help reduce some of his stress before meeting Oscar.
“We’ll need a car to get to the place I was thinking of,” Dima said.
“How long of a drive?”
“Twenty minutes.”
He had three hours until he was supposed to meet Jay for them to go see Oscar. “Okay, let’s go. But I can’t stay too long.”
“Bullets move fast. We’ll take my car.”
“You sure?”
“I don’t trust others to drive me.”
They left Chris’s office and walked to the elevator. People gave them funny looks, as there was no apparent reason for someone like Dima to spend so much time there without actually working. But Chris had decided to let people wonder and gossip instead of trying to convince them of a lie.
Dima pressed the button for the minus-five floor.
“Why did you park down there? Minus four is never full.” It used to be, but after Covid, many people continued to work from home.
“I like number five,” Dima said flatly.
Chris rolled his eyes. He had gotten somewhat used to the man’s presence, but not enough to remotely like him.
When they got out of the elevator and into the parking lot, only one car was parked in the wide space. They walked over to the black Toyota SUV and climbed inside. After Chris put on the seatbelt, he pulled out his phone to text Jay where he was going. There was no reception down here, but the message would be sent once they reached the street.
Before he could text, Dima snatched his phone. “Not now.”
“What? Why?”
“No reception.”
“So? I can still write a message. Give it back.”
Dima shook his head, his crooked smile sending a bad feeling down Chris’s spine. “Dima, give me back my phone.”
“You don’t need it, little brother.”
Chris's eyes shot to the rearview mirror.
Trevor pushed himself up in the middle seat, smiling broadly in the mirror.
This is not happening.
Chris reached for the door handle, but the car was locked. He slammed his fist against the window. “Help!”
Trevor laughed and shouted louder, “Help! Help!”
The gun. Chris reached underneath his jacket, but Dima caught his intent and grabbed his hand. He swiftly reached underneath Chris’s jacket and pulled out the gun, then handed it over to Trevor.
“Dima, you’re making a mistake. Oscar will—”
“Shut up.” Dima opened the glove compartment and pulled out zip ties. He quickly tied Chris’s wrists together tightly, then leaned down to tie his legs. When he finished, he pulled the lever that dropped Chris’s seat back.
Trevor leaned down and pressed the barrel of the gun against Chris’s temple. “Sorry for barging in like this, but I was technically invited.”
“Trevor, you can’t—”
“Shh. Stay quiet until we’re out of the city, then you can talk, and beg, and scream as much as you want. Let’s go.”
Dima started the car.
*
I need to wake up.
But as much as he tried, Dima kept driving farther away from the city. With every new mile, Chris’s panic intensified, his lungs tight enough to make it hard to breathe. He couldn’t let them kidnap him without a fight. Right as Dima glanced at the side mirror, Chris reached for the steering wheel and yanked, hoping to cause enough disruption to get them pulled over rather than to cause a car accident.
The car swayed sharply, but Dima quickly got it under control. With one hand on the steering wheel, he smashed the other into Chris’s ribs.
Trevor laughed. “Count on Danny to put up a fight!”
Dima glanced down. “Try it again, and I’ll break your fingers.”
In the backseat, Trevor messed with Chris’s phone. “He has a tracking app, but I can play with it.” Shortly after, he said, “We’re on I-95, Danny. When did you last visit Connecticut?”
Chris remained silent, trying to think of another way to make the car stop. Trevor leaned into his face. “You know how I feel about the silent treatment.”
“I went there earlier this year.” He usually visited Ethan’s parents every few months with Melissa and the twins. Going there always felt like coming back home, although he never technically lived there.
“Turn right at the next intersection,” Trevor told Dima.
“Where are you taking me?” Chris asked.
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
“Trevor, you’re making a mistake. People will find out about this. Powerful people.”
“Yeah, Dima told me all about your powerful friends. Under normal circumstances, I might’ve been worried, but I have bigger problems on my mind. Cut to the left over there.”
The car shook when they moved from the paved road to a dirt one. The sun quickly disappeared behind tall and clustered trees, making it feel like evening rather than the middle of the day.
“Stop next to the car over there.”
“Is this your brother?”
“Yes.”
Chris’s panic soared, cold sweat breaking across his skin. He shouldn’t have been surprised, but Andy’s presence made this nightmare all the more real.
The car stopped, and Dima and Trevor got out.
Chris jerked at the sudden appearance of Andy in the window. From the low angle of the seat, he appeared disfigured with his nose pressed against the glass. “Hello, Daniel!”
Dima walked around the car and told Andy to move. He opened the door and roughly pulled Chris from his seat, dumping him on the ground.
The three of them loomed above him, high as buildings, their faces shadowy under the trees.
He opened his mouth and screamed for help.
All three watched him in silence.
He forced himself to stop and swallow down his panic. This was not the time to lose his shit. Outnumbered and bound, his brain remained his only weapon, and so far, it was shooting blanks.
“Dima, I don’t know what Trevor promised you, but you won’t ever get it. And Oscar will get you for this.”
“Why? I was attacked. Poor little me.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Dima ignored him and told Trevor, “Let’s do this.”
“Sure thing, but it’s gonna hurt.”
“Only if you do it right.”
They walked a few feet away and faced each other, both equally tall, with Dima looking twice as broad. Trevor stretched his neck and shook his hands, a spark of excitement in his eyes.
Chris gasped when Trevor smashed his fist into Dima’s face. The man barely budged, but Trevor cursed and held his hand. “Are your bones made of iron? I didn’t sign up to injure myself!”
“You are a baby.” Dima walked to his car, and with no hesitation, smashed his head against the door.
Trevor laughed. “Now, that’s a committed man!”
Chris used the opportunity to glance around, but all he could see was trees and grass. Birds chirped loudly from all directions, and he couldn’t even hear the distant sound of traffic.
Andy crouched next to him, smelling of Doritos as he reached for Chris's face.
“Don’t touch me!” He tried to crawl away, but Andy grabbed his jacket and held him in place. The zip tie dug into his wrists, already causing small cuts.
A loud shout pierced the air. Chris jolted and turned to see Dima holding his ribs. It seemed like Trevor had kicked him.
This cannot be happening.
Andy stroked Chris’s head, running his thick fingers through his hair. “I missed you, Daniel. Did you miss me?” He sounded like he really meant that question, as if missing him was a true possibility.
Chris shut his eyes and tried to think, but his brain was stuck on static. In the background, Trevor kept hitting Dima until the man finally blurted, “Stop!”
Chris cracked open his eyes to see Dima spitting blood onto the ground, his face a mess that would likely worsen later.
“Now do the car,” Dima said and massaged his jaw.
“I’ll fetch a crowbar from my trunk. Andy, how’s Danny?”
“He’s great!”
Trevor snickered and went to take a crowbar, then walked over to Dima’s car and began to mercilessly hit it.
“Andy, watch this!” Trevor smashed one of the windows, and Andy clapped.
Dima leaned against a tree, holding his head back and pinching the bridge of his nose, his other hand pressing the side of his body.
“You okay?” Trevor asked as he walked away from the wreckage.
“Dizzy.”
“Just dizzy? I’d be dead if I were you.”
“True.”
“You know what to tell your employer, right?”
“Yes, I’ll handle him.”
“If the cops ask you—”
“He wouldn’t involve the police, but I will say that you knocked me out before I could see your face.” He spat more blood onto the ground.
“Make sure to stick to that story no matter what. I got away with many lies because I was stubborn. Come help me get my treasure into the trunk.”
Chris tried to crawl away when they came for him. “Help!”
“Jesus, Danny, you used to be smarter. You think I would’ve chosen this place if there was anyone to hear you?”
They pulled him up and shoved him into the trunk. Trevor used duct tape to block Chris’s mouth, then used a knife to cut the zip tie from around his wrists. “Hands behind your back.”
Chris shook his head and tried to send a punch at Trevor’s stomach, but Dima grabbed his hands and pulled them back, twisting them painfully until Trevor finished duct-taping them together.
“How long are you going to drive with him?” Dima asked, blood dripping down his nose and lips.
“A couple of hours, but I can’t tell you where we’re going.”
“I don’t need to know.” Dima gave Trevor a warning glare. “Don’t make mistakes, and only speak with me when you have my share.”
“It will take some time.”
“I can wait.” He looked down at Chris. “You helped kill Tobias. You deserve this. Once I get the money, I’ll take care of Oscar.” He grinned, his teeth stained crimson. “Maybe I’ll take care of your friends as well.”
The trunk door slammed shut, covering Chris in thick darkness.