Chapter thirty-four #2
Pieces of me splattered all over the parking lot mixed with twisted metal.
My first thought is Violet and our baby.
Without me, she’ll be more exposed, more vulnerable to him.
“Russ,” I say, sheer terror I haven’t experienced since a child consumes my body.
“If the worst happens, make sure that bastard never gets near them. Keep them safe.”
“We’ve got you, brother,” he replies firmly. Brother. At least if these are my last minutes on earth, I’ll leave knowing we’ve fixed our relationship. “Meet us at the warehouse. We’ll get you out of there, and you can look after them yourself.”
Every mile takes an eternity. The heap of junk I’m driving moves at a painfully slow speed.
“Don’t overdo it,” Hunter says—he’s coaching me as we drive.
If I get out of this alive, I will never attend a sting again.
I’ll be staying firmly behind my desk and becoming a pen pusher.
“Keep the pressure on the pedal constant. When you get to your destination, do not switch the car off. Put it in neutral and park on a flat piece of land so you don’t need to apply the handbrake. Limit all movement. We don't know how sensitive that pad is.”
My eyes are trained on the road in front of me.
My heart beats so hard it could break my ribs. “Answer me,” he barks.
“Yes, I understand,” I snap. Damon is following behind in his Focus. He stays fifty or so meters away, keeping a safe distance from the effing bomb I’m driving. You couldn’t make this shit up.
“It’s polite to reply,” Hunter says with a chuckle.
“Manners are not exactly top of my priority list,” I bark back.
“For a privately educated man, Waite, your attitude leaves a lot to be desired.” Hunter snorts with laughter. I scowl at him though he doesn’t know it. Nothing about this situation is fucking funny.
“If I get out of this…”
“When you do,” he interjects.
“I’m going to kick your ass.”
“That I can’t wait to see,” he replies. “I look forward to it.”
The warehouse comes into view. I drive toward it; the gates are already pinned open for me.
My friend’s cars are parked to one side along with a few other dark vehicles I don’t recognize.
The group of men stands in the center of the vast space, and Connor lifts his hand, signaling for me to drive to him.
I come to a stop beside them, and the car cuts out. Everyone takes a collective breath.
“I told you not to fucking switch it off!” Hunter blares, storming up to the car and dragging open the door. He grabs my throat. “Do what I fucking say!”
“I didn’t,” I argue. “It cut out. Stop being a bloody neanderthal and help me out of this mess.”
I dig my nails into his skin, and he snaps his hand away.
Another man I don’t know approaches the car.
He’s tall and slim with glasses perched on the end of his nose.
A computer nerd by the looks of him. Without a word, he crouches down at my side, then moves to his knees and peers under the seat.
“There’s a timer,” he says. “We have five minutes.” He looks up at me, and I blink back at him.
“Who are you?” I ask, my voice harsh.
“Dan,” he replies. “And as much as I’d love to introduce myself further, I’m sure it can wait until we’re on safer ground.”
“Fuck,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair.
“Mr. Waite, please don’t move. I haven’t got time to do a full inspection of the device but considering it didn’t explode when you sat down, I can assume removing pressure from the pad will cause it to detonate.”
“So, it won’t explode when the timer counts down unless I get up?” I ask, hopeful.
“Oh no, it will most definitely explode then.”
“I’m fucking mincemeat no matter what,” I growl, infuriated to be caught like this. To have been one-upped by a man I hate.
Dan ignores my outburst. “Mr. Waite, I am going to attempt to rebalance the pressure as we move you off the device. Hopefully this will stop the detonation. But as soon as you are out of the car, you need to run.”
“Can you not deactivate it? You know, cut a wire or something?”
“Unfortunately not, it’s too risky. I’ve seen too many people blown to bits by an incorrect wire being severed.”
He stands and walks around to the passenger side of the car, opening the door and kneeling on the seat.
“I want you to move slightly to your right. I am going to apply weights to the pad as you move in an attempt to trick it.”
“Have you completed this task successfully before?” As soon as the question leaves my lips, I regret it.
“Once,” he says, not looking at me, too busy laying out small weights in the storage compartment between us.
“The other times, well, let’s just say most of them survived. I’m still here anyway.”
He looks me straight in the eyes. “We have around three minutes. We will get you out of here if you do everything I tell you.”
I nod, take a breath, then turn to Hunter who is standing at the driver’s door. Russell and Connor behind him. “Now fuck off,” I tell them. “Get clear of this heap of shit.” Without a word, they all turn and walk away.
“What’s that?” Dan asks, distracting me by signaling to an envelope on the dashboard I didn’t notice.
He reaches for it and passes it to me. My name is written across the front.
“Read it once you’re out of here. Now, start moving very slowly.”
Another man has appeared at my side, crouched down watching what must be the timer.
“Two minutes,” he advises. “But it's speeding up.” Dan is placing a weight onto the seat each time I move.
“Now, I need you to step your right leg out of the vehicle and put half your weight on it.” I do as I’m told. “Timer,” he asks. The man beside me squints around my leg at the bomb below my seat.
“One minute.”
I glance over. He’s holding the final weight.
“When I place this down, you run. We all run.” I grunt in response. The man watching the countdown stands. With the mystery envelope firmly in my grasp, I rise and run when the small piece of metal is placed on the seat.
Those of us still in the vicinity of the car scatter like marbles.
Within seconds, the explosion erupts, throwing us all forward.
I land on the hard ground on my hands and knees.
Gravel punctures my skin. Everything stings.
When I turn around, I see the sad little shit-mobile already burning bright, ashes flying up into the sky with the flames.
My men and friends stand around the outer edges, watching on.
They all move toward me, surrounding me like I’m a sacrifice.
The envelope is still clutched in my fist, somehow.
“A love letter, Waite?” Marshall says, gesturing to the paper in my hand.
“It was in the car,” I tell him. “My name is on it.”
“This is all fucking freaky.”
“Well open it,” Russell says. When I glance up, he’s standing above me staring down. I push myself up to sit, and the men gather in closer as I pull a photo from the now grubby white casing.
A picture comes into view. A woman. A naked woman lying on a bed with her legs spread wide. It takes me a moment to process who it is. Violet smiles sexily into the camera, her eyes aroused, ready to be taken. Across the bottom is a message.
Remember, I’ve been there too.
I rip the image up and throw it away. “What was in the envelope?” Connor asks firmly. He’s standing at the back, watching silently. He’s too far from me to have a look at the image.
“Something you wouldn’t want to see,” I say, my heart beating hard in my chest as my anger explodes.
“This bastard is going down,” Russell growls. “I saw that photo, and no one does that to my sister.”