34. Chapter 34
Chapter 34
Melanie
My hands won't stop shaking, so I slide them between the cold wooden chair and the bottom of my thighs. The coffee cup in front of me is empty. I downed it, burning my tongue in the process. Later, I'll blame it on my nerves. Now, I'm just trying to concentrate on remembering to breathe. From my table at The Last Drop, I have a clear view of the parking lot, the front entrance, and the ordering line. No one's getting into this building without me seeing them. Farris is three tables away, earbuds in place, casually bobbing his head to nonexistent music while he monitors the same feed I hear through my concealed earpiece.
A man sitting alone sips his coffee while reading his phone. He glances at me as I reach over and throw my coffee cup away. I can't let Michael see me with it, that would ruin everything, but I couldn't help myself. I desperately needed the caffeine. My fingers unconsciously trace the outline of one of the three tracking devices Law insisted I wear. “Better paranoid and prepared than dead,” he'd said while placing them. Given those choices, I'd have to agree.
“Everyone's in position.” Law's steady voice is in my ear. “Stay calm, Melanie. You're safe. I promise, we've done these lots of times.” I eye Farris, who nods along as if enjoying a song, his relaxed posture betraying nothing of the tension and anticipation thrumming through all of us.
Earlier this morning, Farris and I sat in a parking lot outside a grocery store in the next town. From there, I'd made the call that set the trap:
“Michael. It's me.” My voice is barely above a whisper
“Aww, if it isn't my little escaped bunny?” The sound of his voice makes bile rise in my throat. “Aren't you a crafty one? To what do I owe this unexpected surprise?”
I fucking hate him. I hate his voice. I hate that he's hurt people. I hate him for what he's done. And I hate that fucking nickname.
Michael chuckled, “it seems my little bunny’s forgotten how to talk.” Michael chuckled.
“I... I need money.” The thought of needing anything from this monster makes me want to scream. Instead, I bite my lip. Farris puts his hand on my arm, nodding for me to continue.
Slimy bastard.
“Oh?” Amusement colors his voice. “Figured out it's hard being on your own, did you?” I hear him set the phone down and put me on speaker. “What about your job?”
“Lost it. I can't work without dedicated internet.” I force vulnerability into my tone. “But you must have known that.”
I have internet, you pompous ass.
“Aww, you weren't built for being on the run, were you?” He practically purrs.
Condescending prick. “I underestimated the costs. I'm broke.” I draw out the last word, letting desperation seep through.
“I'm very angry with you.”
Yeah, I don't like you either. I heave a dramatic sigh. “I thought I could make it on my own.”
And I damn well can, you piece of shit.
“I told you to answer the phone. Instead, you threw it away.”
“Yes, I did. You should have known I would do that. Now, please, I just need money. I'm starving. I haven't eaten in days.” I inject irritation into my voice, the kind that comes from swallowed pride.
“And how do you propose I get it to you?”
“I don't know, maybe leave it somewhere and I can pick it up?”
His laugh is exactly what I expected. “Oh, silly, silly bunny.”
Farris rolls his eyes as he grips my hand.
“I just—”
“If you want my help, you'll do it my way. Now beg.”
“What?” The word escapes before I can stop it.
“You heard me. Beg for it.” His voice drops lower, hungrier. “Make me hard.”
I swallow hard, forcing myself to play his game. “Please Michael, will you help me?”
“More!” He snaps.
“Please Michael, I was stupid thinking I could make it alone. I failed. I need your help. Please.”
His breathing has grown heavy. “Call me Emperor.”
My eyes fly to Farris. He nods encouragingly, mouthing, “It's okay.”
“Emperor?” I manage to choke out.
“Say it again. Beg your Emperor for help. Now!”
Farris tightens his grip on my hand as I force out the words: “Please, my Emperor, save me. I was a very foolish little bunny. I can't survive without money anymore. Please... Emperor...please.”
“Yes.” He's practically panting now. “God, your voice does things to me. Fuck, my balls are so tight.” A grunt. “From now on, you will only refer to me as the Emperor. Understand?”
My teeth grind together so hard my jaw aches. “Yes, Emperor.”
He lets out an audible groan. “Where are you?”
“I just got to town.” The lie comes easier now.
“Good, that makes it easy. Park in my parking lot and I'll come out.”
“Emperor...” I inject a plaintive note into my voice. “Ah, could we maybe meet at The Last Drop instead? I haven't had a coffee in so long.”
I might actually throw up.
“You know what to do.” In my mind, I see his face, the small smirk in the corner of his mouth, his eyes narrowed. The girls are right, he really isn't attractive.
“What do you mean?”
“Don't be such a dumb-shit, Melanie. You want something from me.” The tone of his voice tells me he's enjoying this.” I know you do.”
I roll my eyes at Farris, who nods his agreement. “Please, Michael," I correct myself. "Sorry, Emperor, could you please see your way to allowing me to get coffee at my favorite coffee shop?”
“Ahhh, fuck, little bunny, now I don't know if I should stroke one off with you on the phone or save it for later.” He laughs, causing my skin to crawl. “I think I'll wait; the anticipation will make it all that better. Be seated on the left side by the door at two o'clock. Make me wait or contact Cameron and there will be hell to pay. Remember, you've earned punishments, little bunny. Don't do exactly as I say and I promise they - will - hurt.” Michael disconnects the call.
After that, we proceeded as planned. I erased everything in my phone, then Farris ran it over. I threw it in the dumpster next to the store. Farris and I positioned ourselves across the street in the McDonald's parking lot. Sure enough, just like Law said, thirty minutes later, a grey van pulled in next to the dumpster. Mr. Daggers and another man I don't know got out and looked around, circling the dumpster. The other man climbed over the side and emerged with my phone, which he handed to Mr. Daggers. The two got in the van and drove off. We waited, then went to Law's mother's house until the meeting.
Now, hours later, I sit watching the door, remembering Law's final instructions: “If anything goes wrong, immediately drop like dead weight. Don't struggle—it will make it harder on him.”
Maxwell's voice comes through my earpiece. “Black Lexus pulling in.”
My pulse spikes.
“Stay calm, everyone,” Law cuts in. “Sebastian, visual confirmation?”
“Target confirmed. Getting out of his vehicle. Black pants, white shirt, black suit coat. He's on his phone.”
“Copy. Tobias, you copy?”
“Ten-four, I copy.” Tobias's deep voice fills my ear. “We'll move as soon as you make contact.”
“Here we go. Places everyone. Melanie, remember your role, you're exhausted, desperate, and scared. Let him think he's won.”
The bell above the door chimes. Every muscle in my body tenses as Michael walks in, predatory grace in every movement. His dark sneer finds me instantly, a shark scenting blood in the water. Seeing me, he breaks into a mischievous-looking smile.
“We all have eyes on him, Melanie. You're safe. We're here,” Law murmurs in my ear. “Let him come to you.”
I watch Michael order, bile rising as I overhear him say his name is “Emperor” to the barista with that smug little smirk. He stands at the counter staring at me while he waits for the coffee.
“He's just trying to make you uncomfortable,” Law says. “This one's got an ego the size of Detroit. Let him play it out.”
After “Emperor” is called, Michael steps to the condiment station, making me wait even more. I shift in my seat for his benefit, at least that's what I tell myself. Essentially, I know Law and the guys are here. And I know that they are four of the biggest muscle showcases I've ever seen, but this is Michael, the man nightmares are made of. Who knows what he has up his sleeve?
“Melanie, do not drink the coffee, it's laced,” Sebastian warns quietly.
That bastard. He wouldn't be able to handle me getting away again, so this time he'll drug me. Fucking jerk! How many other women have you drugged and taken, Michael? I force myself to look up as he walks toward my table. The expression on his face is triumph mixed with cruelness. He makes my skin crawl.
“Aww, my poor, disheveled little bunny.” He talks to me in baby talk as he circles the table slowly, examining me from every angle. “You look... so desperate, needy. Do you need me, Melanie?”
“Michael—” I start.
“Who?” His voice carries a warning edge.
“Sorry,” I duck my head submissively, “Emperor.”
“Trust me, you won't make that mistake again.” He sets a coffee in front of me. “Not once I'm done with you. Aren't you going to thank me for the coffee? And invite me to sit with you?”
Blowing out my breath and keeping my eyes on the steaming coffee in front of me. “Thank you, I've missed coffee. Please, have a seat.”
Michael seats himself across the table from me. “So, how ya been?” His laugh fills the room. “Naughty, that's how. You've been very, very naughty. But it's alright, I have a special treat in store for you tonight. Tell me, Melanie,” he takes a drink of his coffee, “do you know what an Emperor does to a disobedient woman?”
I shake my head no.
“Well, I certainly don't want to ruin the surprise. Let's just say, when I'm done, you'll be needing the cane for walking.” He winks at me. “But don't worry, I'm a fair man, I make sure there's always pleasure in pain.” He peers from me to my coffee, then back to my face. “Drink up.”
I pick up my cup, swirling it around. “It's hot.”
“I don't care. You wanted it.” his jaw clenches. He sets his cup on the table and leans forward. “Now. Drink. Up.”
Locking eyes with him, I slowly lift the cup. Seeing Sebastian and Law walking toward the table, I keep my eyes on Michael.
“Michael Thorne,” Law says clearly, suddenly right behind Michael. “We have a warrant for you.”
The change in Michael is instant. From predator to caged prey, in a heartbeat. He starts to rise but Sebastian's already there, one hand on his shoulder. “Going somewhere, Emperor?”
“What?” Michael's eyes dart wildly. Farris steps to the side of Sebastian, Maxwell fills in next to Law. The coffee shop has gone eerily quiet. “Who are you?” Michael's hand twitches toward his jacket.
“Don't,” Law says eerily softly. “Just don't. Keep them where we can see them.”
For one frozen moment, nobody moves. Then Michael explodes into action, at least he tries to. Like a spring, he shoves back from the table, but Maxwell's ready. Shoving his leg under the chair, he tilts Michael off balance. As Michael windmills his arms, Farris and Law catch his wrists, yanking them behind his back. The cuffs make a satisfying click.
Knowing he's caught, Michael goes berserk, pushing back and bringing his leg up to catch the table. I grab my coffee before it goes flying. Farris intercepts the table and shoves it back down. Michael is frantically winding and twisting his body like a caught snake.
Sebastian steps behind Michael's head, his fingers finding pressure points behind Michael's ears as he pushes on both sides. Michael yelps and stops moving.
“The more you struggle, the more I'll push.”
“What the fuck is this?” Michael's voice cracks with rage and disbelief. “Who are you? You can't.”
“Actually, we can.” Law produces the warrant. “Emperor Maikeru, Michael Thorne, you're under arrest. Melanie, would you please step away from the table?”
The color drains from Michael's face. “YOU! You bitch did this.” Michael thrusts himself forward toward me, but the guys restrain him.
I quickly stand and step out of the way, throwing both coffees away.
Farris and Maxwell grab his legs while Sebastian and Law control his upper body. Michael thrashes like a landed shark, screaming about police brutality, about his rights, about being a karate expert and being able to take them all.
“Congratulations, Emperor. I'm a Grand Master, and you'd be passed out before you even touched me.”
Michael stares at Sebastian. “You can't take out one of your own. Let me go and we'll work together.”
“I got his phone,” Farris says calmly, placing Michael's phone on the table. “This is now confiscated under the parameters of the federal warrant.”
The realization of the last two words Farris said dawns on Michael. “You!” Michael's eyes lock onto me, filled with murderous rage. “You worthless bitch! You think this changes anything? Cameron hates you now, he'll never—”
Sebastian does something that makes Michael shut his mouth and stare forward.
Noticing me watching, Sebastain states, “the effects are only temporary.”
“To bad,” I said giving him a smile.
“Time to go, on three. One. Two. Three.” Law orders. They lift Michael bodily, zip-tie his legs together, carrying him toward the door like a trussed animal. His continued thrashing only makes him look more ridiculous.
I follow them out, pausing to address the stunned onlookers: “Federal warrant being served on a monster of a man. Thank you for your cooperation.” Several of them nod.
Outside, before they load him into the Suburban, Law does a pat-down. He pulls a gun from the left side inside Michael's suit coat. He also produces a clear glass tube with white pills. He motions to the guys and they load a now-screaming Michael into the vehicle, Farris and Sebastian flanking him on the seat.
“Nice work, young lady.” Law strides across the parking lot to me. Once in front of me, he smiles, then engulfs me in a hug. I return the hug with a deep breath, feeling like it's the first oxygen my lungs have had since all of this started.
“Law,” Tobias's voice echoes in our ears. Law and I step apart, each wanting to hear what he has to say.
“We're clear, Tobias,” Law says. “He's in custody.”
“Clear here too. Ambulances have seven. Three in my cars. Daggers not among them.”
“Interesting. Good job. We're heading to lockup.”
“Ten-four. See you there.”
Law turns back to face me, genuine pride in his expression. “You're a very brave woman, and because of you, seven women are now safe. And Michael won't be able to hurt anyone again.”
Tears roll down my face; it's hard to swallow. “Thanks.”
“We're going to the jail. I'll be in touch for your final statement of what happened today, but it can wait. Oh, I arranged a ride for you. Evelyn and I filled him in on everything last night.” He points to the opposite side of the parking lot.
That's when I see him. My Cameron, standing by his car, looking uncertain but determined. The world fades away; I want to run to him, but my feet won't move.
He closes the distance between us. “Law told me everything. He and Mom, last night at the church. The whole family knows. His guys went through the house.” His hands settle gently on my arms. “My God, Mel, I'm so sorry. I understand, I do. You did what you had to do. I know why you ran, what you did.” He puts his hands on either side of my face. “Did he hurt you?”
Unable to find my voice, I shake my head no.
“Melanie, I love you. And if you'll have me, I'll spend the rest of my life showing you how much.”
The sob tears out of me as I collapse into his arms. This isn't pretty crying. All the fear, isolation, and trauma pouring out. Cameron just holds me tighter, kissing the top of my head, telling me it's going to be alright.
“I'm so sorry,” he whispers. “I had no idea Michael was capable of such horrific things. I'm so, so sorry.”
Raising my head, we gaze at each other. “How could you have known? He fooled everyone, even Tobias.”
“I know, but I should have.”
I cut him off. “We can't play the would have, should have game. Michaels on his way to jail where he belongs.”
“He is. Let's go get Moses and your stuff, then if you want, we can go home. We have a lot to talk about, but we have time. Mom's already planning a celebration dinner. Everyone wants to hug you.”
“Home sounds great.” I step back and take his hand. “I love you.”
I'm free, finally free.
The End.
Maybe.