Chapter Twelve
Ada
The darkness of the trunk pressed in on me like a physical weight, my breath coming in short gasps as I fought against the rising panic.
My scalp still burned where Rat Man had grabbed me, the memory of his fist connecting with my face a dull throb across my cheekbone.
I forced myself to think, to focus. Jag was coming.
Knight was tracking my phone. I just needed to stay alive, stay smart, and give them time to get to me.
I made sure my phone was on battery saver.
The screen dimmed instantly, casting an eerie blue glow across the confined space.
I silenced it, making sure even vibrate was turned off.
The last thing I needed was for Rat Man to hear it and take it from me.
Knight needed that signal. He hadn’t searched me yet.
From what I’d seen of him so far, he didn’t seem too stable.
If I was lucky, he wouldn’t think to search me now.
I slid the phone deep into my back pocket where it wouldn’t easily fall out. Not ideal, but better than nothing.
The taillight took some doing in the dark, especially since I had no idea how to go about pulling out the light. I only tried to keep myself from spiraling into terror. The truth was I’d never been so scared in my life as I had been since Rat Man grabbed me.
Sweat trickled down my neck as I shifted position.
We moved faster now, though still not like we were on the open road.
More like a side street or something. The car hit a pothole, throwing me against the side of the trunk.
My head cracked against something metal, and stars burst behind my eyes.
I bit down hard on my lip to keep from crying out.
Rat Man didn’t need to know I was conscious and fighting.
When the spinning stopped, I went back to the light. Took some work, but the taillight finally gave, and I wiggled it free. One final wrench and it came free in my hands, leaving a small hole where the light had been.
Cool air rushed in, bringing with it the smell of river water and a rusty, fishy smell that had me wrinkling my nose. I pressed my eye to the opening, blinking against the light.
Through the small hole, I could see we had stopped moving. The car was parked in front of an enormous warehouse, its metal skeleton old and tired looking. Most of the windows were broken, looking like jagged glass teeth in gaping maws.
Water glinted in the distance, the river probably. I tried to get a better look at my surroundings. The area seemed deserted, no other cars visible, no people moving about. Just me and Rat Man. I had no idea if he had help or if we were alone.
The crunch of gravel snapped my attention back. Footsteps approached the car, heavy boots coming into view through my makeshift window. I pulled back instinctively, even though I knew he couldn’t see me watching. The footsteps stopped right outside the trunk, and I heard a muttered curse.
I quickly twisted around, making sure my phone was secure and completely hidden. I felt it still in my back pocket. I curled my body into a ball and tried to cover my head as best I could while still keeping an eye on whatever came at me when the trunk opened.
The trunk lock clicked. My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I was sure he would hear it.
The trunk flew open with a metallic screech.
Bright light flooded in, blinding after the darkness.
I barely had time to register Rat Man’s silhouette against the sky before his hand shot out, fisting in my hair.
I yelped as he yanked me upward by my hair. My scalp felt like it was being torn from my skull. My hands flew up instinctively, trying to lessen the pressure on my head.
“Wakey, wakey, princess,” Rat Man sneered, his breath hot and sour against my face. “Time to play hostage.”
He dragged me from the trunk, my body scraping against the metal edge.
I landed hard on my knees on the gravel, stars exploding behind my eyes as pain shot up my legs.
Before I could recover, he was pulling me up again, still by my hair, forcing me to scramble to my feet or have my scalp ripped off.
I grabbed his wrist, but he didn’t seem to notice. Or didn’t care.
“Move,” he growled, shoving me toward the warehouse once I stood upright.
I stumbled forward, my legs numb and unsteady, the pain in my knees and hips nearly unbearable. The gravel bit into my feet through my thin shoes as he propelled me forward, one hand still tangled painfully in my hair, the other gripping my upper arm hard enough to leave bruises.
The warehouse loomed before us, its shadow falling across us like a bad slasher movie. The massive doors hung partially open, rust flaking from their hinges. The darkness beyond seemed too oppressive to breathe.
Rat Man shoved me through the gap between the doors, into the dim interior.
My eyes struggled to adjust after the bright sunlight.
The concrete floor was cracked and stained, water pooling in spots.
The space stretched out cavernous and empty except for some old machinery and what looked like a makeshift living area in one corner.
He yanked my head back sharply, forcing me to look at him. His face was all I could see, those small, close-set eyes gleaming with malice, his thin lips stretched in a smile that chilled my blood.
“Welcome to my humble abode, darlin’.” He threw me forward without warning.
I hit the concrete floor hard, my palms scraping raw as I tried to break my fall. The impact knocked the breath from my lungs. Behind me, I heard the heavy doors grinding shut, sealing me inside with him.
As I struggled to my hands and knees, gasping for air, I heard the distinctive click of a gun being cocked.
“Get up,” Rat Man said. “We’ve got preparations to make before your boyfriend arrives.”
I managed to stand again as Rat Man dragged over a chair.
He grabbed my arm again and shoved me into the chair so hard it almost tipped.
Next, he bound my hands in front of me, the zip ties biting into my wrists.
The plastic edges cut deep every time I shifted in the metal chair.
Rat Man had pulled them tight enough to pinch my skin, my fingers already tingling from restricted blood flow.
The steel folding chair was beaten and bent but sturdy.
I tried to move my hands enough to keep blood flowing, but I fought a losing battle there.
I decided then I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing my fear.
My ankles were secured too, bound to the chair legs with more zip ties.
The plastic dug into my skin through my socks, another point of constant pain to focus on instead of the terror threatening to overwhelm me.
I forced myself to breathe slowly, deeply.
I needed to stay vigilant and wait for an opening when Jag and Knight came for me.
Because I knew without a doubt both men would come for me. So did Rat Man.
The warehouse stretched around me, vast and decaying.
Water dripped somewhere in the distance, a steady plink-plink that marked time in this nightmare.
The air hung heavy with the stench of mildew and rust, with undertones of something chemical.
Shafts of light speared through holes in the roof, illuminating dust motes swirling in the stagnant air.
I could make out the shapes of old machinery, hulking metal carcasses pushed against the walls.
Piles of debris, broken wooden pallets, and scattered tools created a maze around the central area where Rat Man had set up his little command center.
A folding table with maps spread across it, a couple of camping lanterns, and what looked like an ancient coffee maker plugged into a portable generator. Because, why not?
Two men lurked in the shadows near the large sliding doors.
One, tall and rail-thin, a shotgun cradled in his arms. The other was squatter, muscular, constantly checking his phone with twitchy movements.
They took turns peering through cracks in the boarded windows, muttering to each other in voices too low for me to hear.
“Nice place, right?” Rat Man’s voice came from behind me, making me flinch despite my best efforts. He circled around into my field of vision, his boots scuffing on the concrete floor. “Not exactly five-star accommodations, but it’ll do for what we need.”
He stopped in front of me, leaning down until his face was level with mine. His breath washed over me, a nauseating mix of cigarettes and stale coffee. His eyes were bloodshot, his pupils pinpricks even in the dim light.
“You’re pretty,” he said, reaching out to touch my face. I jerked my head away, and he laughed, a raspy sound like sandpaper on metal. “Spirited too. I see why Jag likes you.”
When I didn’t answer, Rat Man’s smile widened, showing yellow teeth. “I thought we should talk about him. After all, he’s the reason you’re here.” He straightened up, beginning to circle my chair like a shark. “Did he ever tell you about our history together?”
I kept my mouth shut, eyes forward. Every instinct screamed at me not to engage, not to give him anything.
“No?” He snorted. “Probably don’t like bein’ reminded of how fuckin’ stupid he is.
” Rat Man stopped behind me, his hands landing heavy on my shoulders.
I fought the urge to squirm away from his touch.
“Your boyfriend’s a real hero, sweetheart.
Spent his whole fuckin’ adult life in prison for something I did. ”
Despite myself, I tensed. Jag had mentioned taking the fall for someone, but he’d never gone into detail.
“Oh, that got your attention.” Rat Man came around front again, dragging another chair over to sit directly across from me. “See, back in the day, Kiss of Death was a different club. More my style.” He gave me an evil grin. “And Jag, well, he was just a kid looking for a family.”