Chapter 48 Jade
Randall drags me all the way to the parking lot with the damn collar still on. He usually takes it off before we leave, but I guess his rage is getting in the way of his brain's ability to function.
It’s annoying. It’s pitch black out now, and with this place being typically abandoned, there's no light in sight. Being dragged around in these fucking heels might just kill me before anything else can at this point.
Wouldn’t that be tragic?
Randall has been mumbling to himself since he told me we were leaving, and when two figures come out of the shadows, one on each side of us, I blame him for not having heard them sooner.
I can’t make out any features of either of them, between the distance and the darkness. But it doesn’t matter.
Two shots ring out loud enough to make my ears ring, and for a moment, I freeze to take stock of my body. I don’t think I’ve been hit, but I know the brain does strange things, and sometimes it blocks out pain when you're in shock.
A tug on my throat pulls me from the shock, and I have to brace myself to stay standing as Randall stumbles back with the chain still in his hand, before he lets it loose as he drops to the ground.
The little bit of moonlight that breaks through the clouds is just enough for me to see that both bullets hit him, and I let out a sigh of relief that I don’t have to worry about being shot tonight. Or I guess that I haven’t been shot… yet. Who knows whether they plan to shoot me or not?
Randall lies on his back, looking up toward the sky, just a few steps away from me.
As I look over him, a cough wracks his body, causing blood to spray out of his mouth, and I take a step back.
My movement catches his attention, and he turns his head slightly toward me even as I retreat.
When he raises his hand to reach for me, I can’t even find it in myself to feel bad.
This man is a monster. He made my life a nightmare, and it was bad even before him.
I only regret is not making him suffer more, that I hadn’t been the one to kill him. Or better yet, Zander and I together. We would have made his death a work of art.
“Pe….”
I know he’s trying to call for me, and when his pleading eyes finally find my own, I know he wants my help.
Too fucking bad.
I take one last step back to make sure he can’t possibly reach me.
“I hope you rot in hell!” I hiss before I spit on him like the piece of shit he is.
His fingers never get the chance to even come close to me, though, as his hand drops to the ground and his eyes glaze over. A smile curls my lips, knowing that in his last moments, he was in pain, and he didn’t get what he wanted.
He was alone.
I know I need to run. The guys who shot him are still around, I’m sure, but I can’t make my feet move.
I need to imprint this moment in my mind.
Know every last detail so that when memories of how he ruined my life creep up, I can use this to remember what he lost. It doesn’t matter that I didn’t get to kill him.
He can never have me now! Can never hurt the people I care about again.
“Oh, Randall, I knew it was only a matter of time before it came to this.” One of the dark figures says, and when I look up, I find only one of them is still there. “My father sends his regards,” he says with a dark chuckle.
I assume he’s the one who shot Randall, based on the fact that he still holds a gun, the moonlight catching the metal like a beacon. My head snaps around, looking for the one that’s missing, but it’s almost impossible to see anything past a couple of feet in front of me.
“Now, now, don’t be stupid, Jade,” he says as he takes a step forward, and I match him by taking one away from him. No way am I letting him get any closer.
“I’d hate to have to shoot you, too, but I will. And you won’t get the easy way out either.” He takes another step forward as he turns the gun my way, and this time I stay put.
He knows my name.
“Unfortunately for you, you’re needed alive. So how about you just come quietly….”
My brain finally catches up, and I take off. I have no idea what he was going to say, but I don’t care.
No way in hell am I going to just ‘come quietly.’
With him in front of me and mystery guy number two missing, I take off back toward the building. My best bet right now would be to get back inside and hopefully lose him in the chaos of the machines, or, better yet, among the people, if I can make it that far.
“Stop her.” The same voice shouts from behind me, but it’s not as far away as it should be, which means he’s given chase. Him, I can deal with. It’s the other one I’m worried about.
My legs burn as I push myself, my heels making me unsteady and causing me to lose precious time, but I can’t get them off without losing even more.
Damn these straps.
The chain of my stupid fucking collar hits the back of my legs as I go. Without stopping, I reach back and grab it, wrapping it around my hand a few times. Not only is it annoying, but if these guys get their hands on it, it could be deadly.
Of course, this would be the one time Randall didn’t take it off!
The warehouse is close, maybe fifty feet away, and when the door comes into view, I push with everything I have in the last sprint to it.
A hard body slams me to the side, and I go down hard, rolling to the side a few times before my hand can grasp the handle.
Fuck.
Whoever just hit me goes down too, and as we roll across the ground, I hear them groan as well.
It’s the second guy.
He doesn’t say a word, but his grunts of pain sound completely different. If I can just get on my feet, I can probably still make it to the door. The first guy is still a ways behind us. I can hear his shoes slamming against the concrete as he continues to run this way.
As soon as we come to a stop, I’m pushing to my feet. Something warm and sticky runs down my face, stinging my eye and impairing my vision. I know it’s blood even before I wipe it away, but when my arm comes back red, I’m slightly concerned about how much blood.
The world spins as I stand, but I shake it off. Head wounds always bleed more, which would explain the dizziness, but I don’t have time to worry about that right now.
When I step forward, the world spins again, but this time my stomach rolls as well, letting me know the hit is probably worse than I thought.
I keep moving; the doors are right there. I just need to get inside.
The moment my fingers close around the handle, cold metal presses against the back of my head, and I freeze.
“I really wish you had just come quietly. I told you not to be stupid,” Gun guy says, and I can hear it in his voice; he thinks he’s got me.
“You also told me I was wanted alive,” I say as I drop low and sweep his legs.
Had he put the gun anywhere else, this would have been different, but you don’t shoot someone in the head if you want them alive.
Hell, if he hadn’t told me I was wanted alive, he might have had me, but everyone loves to talk.
As he goes down, I grab the door and yank it open, running inside as quickly as my feet will carry me.
The sound of the door clicking closed behind me lets me know that, for now, they aren’t chasing me, though I doubt they're about to just give up. It also takes the small sliver of light from the moon, throwing me into darkness so dense I can’t see my hand in front of my face.
I blink and rub my eyes, hoping they will adjust as I spend more time in the dark, but I don’t stop moving.
I can’t.
I slam into something, and when my hip makes contact, I have to resist the urge to cry out in pain, instead biting my lip to stay quiet.
My eyes don’t adjust the way I’d hoped, but the dark gets less suffocating as I move through the giant open space and find a hallway.
I don’t think it’s the same one because it’s not as well-lit, but there is a light at the very far end, and I head toward it on instinct.
I stop dead right before I can head down it, though.
The dark might be making it hard for me to see, but that means it will be doing the same for my would-be captors.
I can use the dark to my advantage.
I turn away and find one of the bigger machines near the hallway opening.
The dim light and my outstretched hands are enough for me to make it out to a decent place to hide.
Crouching down, I make myself as small as I can before I reach for my fucking shoes and pull them off as quickly and quietly as I can.
The door opens and snaps closed a moment later—the sound echoing around the room. Distant whispers and shuffling feet start to get closer, and I hold my breath as I listen, trying not to give my hiding spot away.
“She’s probably gone.” One of them says, and I think it’s the one who fucking body slammed me. His voice is deeper than the guy with the gun.
“No, she’s here. She always did love hiding.”
“Isn’t that right, Jade?” he yells the question to me, and it echoes around the room as he laughs.
Who the hell is this guy, and why is he acting like he knows me? It’s starting to piss me off, but something about his voice is familiar. I don’t have time to worry about it now, though, as their steps continue to bring them closer to me.
“Let’s go.” Gun guy snaps to the other one, his voice a lot closer than it was a minute ago.
“I’m fucking trying. She doesn’t exactly walk fast.” The body-slamming guy snaps back at him from closer to the entrance.
She?
She who?
As if an answer to my question, a female whines, and my brain short-circuits.
“Come the fuck on. We don’t have all day. Move your feet, brat.”
The sound of feet shuffling hits my ears right before the sniffles do, and I know without even looking who they have.
I’m moving from my hiding spot so fast that I trip over my discarded shoes in my haste to get to her.
As I round the corner, I put my hands up.
But they aren’t paying attention; instead, they’re focused on getting her to move faster.
I can just barely make out the shape of all three of them, but I don’t miss the gun that’s pressed to the back of her head.
“Stop!” I shout, the command clear in my voice. All three of them turn to me. “Leave her alone.”
“Ah, I knew she would come in handy.” The asshole with the gun says, the gun still pressed to her head as her eyes land on me. I can feel the weight of her gaze.
“Grab her,” he tells asshole number two, and he makes his way toward me.
“Jade...” Charlotte’s voice cracks, and I know she’s crying. I’ve heard it enough times to know, even without being able to see her well in the dark.
“It’s okay, Char, don’t worry,” I tell her just as the asshole comes up behind me. Yanking my hands back and zip-tying them together.
It’s stupid, really. Any moron can get out of a zip tie if they know how. But it doesn’t really matter, considering I’m going willingly.
Once he’s secured my hands, he pushes into the center of my back to get me moving. We make it about halfway to the gun guy before he grabs the chain still attached to the stupid collar, and when we reach him, he gives a tug on it to stop me.
The urge to break the ties just to punch him is strong.
“Let’s get them in the truck.”
The one with the gun tosses something to his buddy, and he catches it with ease. A second later, Charlotte crumbles to the ground. I move for her out of instinct, but there's no slack on the chain, and the sharp poke of a needle in my neck stops me.
They drugged her. The very thought pisses me off, but at least she’s okay. She’s not hurt or bleeding.
She’s not Zander.
I shake the thought from my head as my vision blurs.
“Don’t worry, семья. I know you have a good tolerance, so we made your batch especially for you,” the gun guy says with a chuckle as he bends down to scoop Charlotte up and over his shoulder before heading to the door.
I sway on my feet as spots begin to dance in my vision. Arms come up behind my legs, knocking me backward before lifting me up bridal style, and I can’t stop my head from lolling to the side against my captor's chest.
They mumble something, but I can’t quite make it out as I fight desperately to hold on to consciousness.
I steady my breathing, hoping to slow the drug's effects, but all I do is inhale his scent.
He smells of tobacco and vanilla. The scent makes my stomach roll, but that might be from the hit I took to my head earlier.
I need to stay awake for Charlotte.
My eyes fall closed against my control, and as I breathe, something nags at my brain. I’ve smelled this before. It’s the same feeling I had earlier when the gun guy was screaming my name, and I felt like I knew his voice.
They’re both just slightly off, not an exact match, but enough for me to push against the drugs and pry my eyes open.
Please let me be wrong.
I look up into the eyes of my captor. Green eyes, so much like my own, stare down at me from the holes in his face mask, and I know exactly who this is, why he’s familiar.
I open my mouth to ask why, how…something…anything. But the drug they made is strong, and darkness takes me under before I can so much as utter a word.
Fuck.