Chapter Twenty-One #2
Holden nodded his head and that was all the confirmation Colton needed before he and his men turned and headed in the direction of Bitterman’s Electronics.
I’m on my way, baby. Just hold on.
*
“Is it ready yet?”
Seneca didn’t look up from the laptop screen.
Python had finished downloading a while ago and she was already inside the financial institution’s firewall.
If she wanted to get Hastings his money this second, she could.
But instinct told her she was only useful as long as she could help him.
Prolonging delivery was the only way she could keep things going in her favor, so she kept tapping on keys and changing screens to keep Hastings at bay.
“I’m not gonna ask you again.” The sharp edge to his voice set her internal alarm off.
It scraped like metal against the stone walls of the prison they’d both inhabited together.
The last time she’d refused him when his voice was this cold and exacting, she’d ended up in a prison infirmary.
Smart money said things would be worse for her this time if she continued.
She took a wary sidelong glance at him to see his wide pupils locked on her.
She looked more closely, facing him to get a full view of him.
His brow shone with perspiration even though they were in an electronics shop where the temperature was kept routinely cool for the health of the inventory.
His fingers kept tapping against the glass countertop they were standing in front of as if he was counting every precious moment she took to get him his cash.
She tilted her head, taking in the anxious picture he made as she tried to figure out what she was missing.
Him being anxious didn’t do much for her nerves.
She had to keep calm or this little plan of hers would blow up in her face.
Pretending she was looking at something in the glass display, she gave a quick glance at her watch to make sure it was still voice recording.
Her freedom depended on getting Hastings to incriminate himself on her recording.
She was almost there. She just needed to complete the transaction, and she would be able to be rid of this parasite of a man.
When she glanced up again he was still looking like a man running from death. His pasty complexion, his sunken eyes, they all pointed to a man who was fighting for his life.
“What’s wrong, Hastings? You know I know what I’m doing. I’ve done this for you before with success. Why are you crowding me like this?”
He swallowed hard, then dropped his gaze for a moment before bringing it back up to meet hers.
“That boss of yours put me in a real bind. The money I was making before she showed up wasn’t mine.
And the people it belonged to are real keen for me to make up the difference to what they’ve lost.” He sniffed, poking his tongue on the inside of his cheek as he focused his eyes on her.
“Let’s just say, these are the types of folks you don’t argue with. You just do what they say.”
He unhooked the latch on his hip holster before removing his pistol and pointing it directly at her. “So, if we both want to make it out of this alive and get back to our usual lives, you’d better stop stalling and get me that damn money. You hear?”
Her heart rate kicked up another notch for each moment her eyes lay fixed on the weapon he was pointing at her.
Dammit.
She’d quickly formed this plan when she’d run away from Colton.
She realized they’d never be able to get from under Hastings and live their lives if she didn’t stop him.
Holden was trying to hang her out to dry, and Colton had to drag his feet with an unofficial investigation or risk compromising his job.
That left her little choice but to take matters into her own hands.
After seven years under Hastings’s thumb, she refused to spend another second under his tyranny.
Unfortunately, while constructing this great plan, she didn’t consider there was a bigger, more dangerous person involved in this ridiculous mess she’d found herself in.
Whatcha gon’ do now, girl? If this goes sideways, it’s over.
The thought kept her ramrod still. She’d fought through seven years of prison, had spent the last year toiling on Restoration Ranch to fight for the future Aja made her believe she could have.
She couldn’t let it end like this. Like her shellfish allergy when she accidentally ate something contaminated with shrimp, the thought of losing it all at the hands of this man made her throat tight and her skin itchy, a clear sign that a threat to her wellbeing was imminent if she didn’t do something quick.
She took another sidelong glance, pretending to look at Hastings, but really searching for anything she could use to defend herself if things got any worse.
Her life was worth fighting for. Her future was worth it.
And as fear swelled in her chest, she realized there was one last reason she wanted to fight: Colton.
She wanted a future with him. A future free of secrets and fear where she didn’t have to worry about anything but loving him and him loving her.
A small precision screwdriver Mr. Bitterman probably used to repair electronics caught her eye atop the glass countertop tucked under the discarded packaging from the laptop.
Even though it was tiny, it had a wide-grip handle.
In the right hands, it could be as deadly as the firearm Hastings was pointing at her.
She pulled her gaze back to her screen, before turning to look at Hastings.
“We’ve been over this already,” she stated calmly.
“If you hurt me, there won’t be anyone else you can trust to get you your money without the heat falling back on you.
I’m working on the firewalls for the financial institutions I need to pilfer from.
All I need you to do is give me an account I can forward the funds to once I’m in and you’ll get your money. ”
He kept the gun trained on her with one hand as he pulled a folded piece of paper out of his breast pocket, sliding it across the counter to her with ease.
She picked it up, taking one final glance at him before slowly unfolding it.
She read the numbers, tapping them in and hitting enter to begin the transfer.
“The transfer is in progress. Once it’s done, you’ll have your money.”
Before Hastings could respond, a creak on the stairs grabbed her attention.
“Ssh-sheriff,” Mr. Bitterman stumbled over his words when he saw Hastings’s drawn weapon pointed at Seneca. “What’s going on here?”
“Everything’s fine, Mr. Bitterman.” Seneca prayed her voice was calm enough to alleviate the man’s worries. “Why don’t you go on back upstairs? We’ll be finished here in a moment.”
The old man shook his head. “I don’t know what’s going on, but whatever it is, don’t seem right. Why are you pointing a gun at her, Sheriff? Seneca’s good people. Surely, we can work whatever this is out.”
“Old man, you better listen to what this here gal has to say. Get back up them stairs if you know what’s good for you.”
“Let her alone, Hastings!”
Things happened in slow motion. Hastings straightened his gun arm as he pointed it in Mr. Bitterman’s direction. She lunged at Hastings, her hands grabbing his arm as he fired. She knocked the gun out of his hand, but watching as Mr. Bitterman fell to the ground she realized she was too late.
“Nooooo!” She went to run to Mr. Bitterman but she was yanked back and thrown against the counter with force.
“You stupid bitch.” She didn’t have time to respond before Hastings had her pressed against the glass counter with his hands clamped tightly around her neck, his fingers pressing against her airway, trapping the breath caught inside her burning lungs.
She fought to push him away, grabbed at his hands frantically, clawing at his skin, but nothing worked.
Her vision was beginning to blur. She knew if she didn’t do something soon, she’d lose everything.
She’d lose everything she’d worked for and the love she deserved.
She deserved to build a future with Colton.
And more importantly, she wanted one with him.
Nothing else mattered. Not his job, not the lies, not her past, none of it mattered.
God, if you let me survive, I promise I’ll never take another moment of my life for granted. Please, help me.
As darkness bled into her vision and unconsciousness tugged on her mind, she heard two simple words. “Help yourself.”
She glanced toward the left and saw the screwdriver handle peeking out from under the boxes on the counter. In their struggle, they’d somehow ended up closer to it. She stretched out her hand, her fingertips grazing the handle.
A little more…
She used her fingernails to drag it from beneath the boxes until her palm closed tightly around it. Hastings was still squeezing her throat with a sinister smile plastered onto his face.
“Die, you fucking bitch.”
She couldn’t speak the words because of his hands on her neck. But her mind screamed, You first, as she swung her arm, shoving the screwdriver as hard as she could into his left eye.
And as Hastings dropped to the floor and she slowly collapsed alongside him, she caught a glimpse of Colton rushing through the door. She didn’t know if he was real, or just a comforting image her imagination drummed up.
“Seneca! Seneca! Baby, hold on!”
But as she succumbed to the darkness she’d been fighting off, her soul was thankful. Witnessing the man she loved call her name as she slipped away from life was an eternal gift she’d spend her afterlife being grateful for.