Chapter Thirty
Margo
“Ithink this would be a great component to add,” I tacked on after Roger finished speaking.
He nodded, adjusted his wired glasses, and jotted down a note.
“Trends come and go as we know, but I think what we need to focus on are the reoccurring trends. If we could come up with a way to predict those specific trends, the business model wouldn’t be playing catch-up for three months. ”
I’d been in the university library for the majority of the afternoon with my project team.
Today was Jake’s day, and of course, he was making good use of the library’s resources.
He had taken up a table in the center of the large open room.
Bookshelves lining the glass walls, and the pale gray light of the day streamed down on him and the other students from the arched glass ceiling above.
My team had booked a conference room for the afternoon.
It was quiet and we managed to make a decent headway.
“I agree,” Jenny piped up from her spot at the far corner of the table, wiggling her pen over her notebook.
I didn’t have to look to know her knee was bouncing under the table, probably to the same tempo as mine.
This was our second in-person project meeting, and so far, everyone seemed to be on the same page.
We all respected Professor Ashley, and each of us was projected to graduate from the program in May.
I was nervous as hell, but with the team’s support of my ideas so far, those nerves were starting to quiet.
I didn’t have to fight for a seat at this table.
I’d earned it already. That was something Hayes had to remind me of this morning as I rushed around his bedroom in search of my thermal tights.
I’d thrown them over the back of his reading chair, and he’d gone in behind me, folding them and putting them in the drawer he’d cleared for me.
The discussion carried on, and about half an hour later, I snuck a glance at Jake.
All of his stuff was packed, his backpack leaning against the leg of his pushed-out chair beside his stretched-out legs.
His ankles were crossed and his eyes were on the book in his hands.
Perfectly content, but I knew he was aware of everything going on around him.
He’d started a new fantasy series, buddy reading it with Sarah, leaving me behind.
I didn’t have time to read for fun this semester, but after graduation, I fully planned to spend the summer immersed in worlds of dragons, vampires, and magic behind the espresso bar.
“Well, we’ve made a lot of progress today. Was there anything else you wanted to go over, Margo?” Emily asked while Roger and Jenny began packing their things. I glanced at the timer on the wall. Our time was up.
I gave them a smile and shook my head. “Nope! That’s it for now. We’ll go more at the next meeting.”
“February tenth, yes?” Jenny asked, seeking confirmation.
“Yes.”
Roger confirmed his research tasks and told us he’d shoot us an email by the end of the week with his findings.
Emily and Jenny invited me for coffee while I reached for the leather folder Professor Ashley had given me a few months ago.
It was soft, the weight of it in my hands a reminder of everything I was capable of.
My eyes dropped to the folder, taking it in once more.
Small Business Blueprints vs. Trends
Professor Mandy Ashley
Project Lead: Margo Bennett
“No, I have to get back to Portland before this snow starts coming down harder,” I told them warmly.
“Do you live in Portland?” Emily asked.
I shook my head and slung my bag over my shoulder, tucking the folder close to my chest. “No, I live in Astoria. My boyfriend lives in Portland.”
“Astoria?” Jenny repeated, eyes widening. “I love that town. Margie’s is my favorite spot.”
I hummed in agreement as we walked out together.
“Her key lime pie is pure magic,” I said, finding Jake heading out the doors.
The sun was already starting to set, but his auburn hair was like a lighthouse in a sea of white and gray.
The girls and I parted ways. They headed back to their dorms, and I headed to the near empty parking lot, the streetlights guiding the way.
My eyes were on Red Snake’s SUV. Jake was on the phone, pacing back and forth in front of it.
He spotted me and gave me a chin lift. No smile.
My brows slowly came together, and as I drew closer, I caught the tail end of his harsh tone.
“Don’t call me again. You lost the right to speak to me years ago,” he clipped, his back to me. He shoved the phone into his back pocket and turned to face me.
I opened my mouth to ask what was wrong, but his body had gone still, his eyes focused on something behind me. He slowly raised his hand out to me.
“Margo, get in the truck,” he ordered.
I started to look over my shoulder, but he reached forward, yanking me toward him. In one swift movement, I was in his arms and lightly tossed into the passenger seat. Heart thundering in my ears, my stomach dropped at the sight of three dark figures prowling their way toward us.
“What the fuck?”
“Put your seat belt on!” Jake ordered as he slammed the door. He was nearly around the front of the vehicle when the figure on the far left raised his arms.
“Jake!” I screamed. “Look out!”
The sound of a gunshot rang, and panic followed. The nearby students scrambled, running for their lives as Jake fell to the ground.
“No, no, no,” I yelled, my hands fumbling with the door handle.
I tried to push it open, but nothing happened.
He’d locked me inside. There was a loud bang on the hood of the car.
A sharp yelp left me as my head snapped in that direction, finding Jake’s bloodied hand pushing him up.
I screamed his name again as he ran around.
Another shot went off. I ducked, curling into myself, using the dash as my shield.
My hands went to the back of my neck. Two more shots were fired as he yanked open his door and got into his seat.
He kicked the vehicle into drive and floored it, sending us both into the backs of our seats, leaving the shooters in the snow-covered parking lot.
I scrambled up, my hands working to get my seat belt on as Jake flew through campus, hitting every speed bump.
Each one would send us into the air, landing with a hard bang.
The tail end of the SUV lost traction as we came up to the science building.
Jake slammed his hand down on the horn, not slowing down. “Get the fuck out of the way!” he roared. Students in the crosswalk panicked, running in every direction. I closed my eyes, bracing for impact, and when nothing happened, I turned to him.
“I need to stop that bleeding,” I cried, reaching over to touch the bleeding hole in his bicep. His dark green hoodie was soaked with blood. “Oh God, it’s so much. Why is there so much?”
“I’m fine,” he grunted, his good arm on the steering wheel. “Hit that panic button on the dash for me. It will alert Red Snake.”
“Okay, okay,” I pushed out in a hurry, hitting the little red button on the screen. He made a sharp right turn, heading off campus as the alarms sounded, blue and red flashing light filling the scene behind us. I reached back, grabbed my hoodie, and pressed it against his bullet wound.
He was bleeding so much.
There was so much blood. Too much.
When Grayson had been shot multiple times, there was a lot of blood, but the amount oozing from this one bullet wound was frightening. “Jake, why are you bleeding so much?” I cried, pressing down harder.
“Don’t worry about me, Margo.”
Dominic’s voice filled the cab before I could answer. “Got your location. Talk to me.”
“Margo and I were targeted on campus,” Jake said, his voice like a robot. He glanced in the rearview mirror. “Got a tail following us,” he added, sounding weak.
“What?” I hissed, looking out the back window.
Sure enough, three blacked out sedans were following, weaving through the evening Seattle traffic.
“Is this Gordon?” I practically shouted. “I thought he went underground.”
“Calm down, Margo,” Dominic softly urged. “We’ve notified the local feds and police. They should be en route. Everything is going to be okay. Jake, debrief.”
Jake told Dominic what happened and then paused, groaning. I looked at him and went back to the screen on the dash. He hadn’t told Dominic about the gunshot.
Oh, fuck no.
“Jake was hit,” I croaked. “They shot him in the arm.”
There was a pause, maybe half a second, and it had fear coiling around my neck. “Copy that. We’re on the way, chopper is ready. Jake, head to the safe house,” he ordered.
Jake didn’t answer.
I looked over, my stomach dropping at how pale he was.
“Jake isn’t—he can’t—Jake!”
My friend’s eyes rolled back, his head hitting the head rest. His arm fell away from the wheel and the car swerved.
“Fuck!” I barked, taking a hold of the wheel.
“Jake passed out!” Once I got control of the wheel and straightened out, I looked back at my friend.
His mouth was hanging open. He was out. “Dominic! I can’t—help! ”
That’s when he lost composure. “Fuck!”
“Ahh!” I turned the wheel toward me just in time to dodge a couple crossing the street. “I can’t…”
The car was slowing down.
Shit.
Shit.
My ears started to ring. “Dominic, the car. Jake can’t press on the gas.”
In the background, I heard a crash and Hayes’ voice.
It was muffled, but the fear in it had my heart breaking.
The black sedans had boxed the SUV in. I looked out Jake’s window and saw a gun pointed at me, its owner gesturing for me to pull over.
We were near Pier 58, the white ferris wheel sparking above the dark water.
I steered the car off the road and onto the curb, and when it came to stop, I frantically grabbed Jake’s face.
“Jake! Please!”