“There’s always a way.” I whisper the sentiment. I’m slow as I sit cross-legged facing the door. Someone will come through that door. That person, although a villain on the surface, will be my saving grace. He’ll open the door and prove it can be done; he’ll bring a weapon … which I could take from him. Something, some shred of hope will be delivered with the creak of the door.
It’s a soothing thought as I lay my head back against the hard brick and ignore the screams of pain from every inch of my body. My head is dizzy, my throat dry. I’m starving and I have no idea how long it’s been since I was taken.
I told myself I wouldn’t cry anymore, but damn if the tears don’t spill easily while I wait for whatever it is to come.
Marcus
Three days total have gone by since she’s been taken.
Two hours have passed since the video was first sent via a link to an old burner phone that Charlie Riggins discovered. Without him, it would have taken far too many hours for me to discover the video had been sent. It was sent along with a threat but no demands: You killed mine, I’ll slowly kill yours and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it. Brass gets off on pain. He wants to torture me and he’ll use her to do it.
I gave him no response. No threat, no reaction whatsoever. Anything I give him will only fuel his desire to get back at me by hurting her. What I want, though, is to slowly choke the life from him. To watch terror fill his eyes as I squeeze until the pumping of blood halts and his lank body goes limp. My fingers twitch at the possibility.
There are some men who are fueled by wealth and power, others by delivering consequences. Brass and I share this one thing in common: we’re both men who fit into the latter category.
Too much time has passed and we have two locations. The addresses stare back at me like the wires to a bomb, one red and one black.
Riggins is right. If we go to the wrong location, we’ll tip Brass off and he could flee before we get there. We could split up, but then we’re even more outmanned and outgunned.
Fuck! There’s no easy choice and we have to make a decision. Risk going to the wrong location and losing the element of surprise, or split up and risk being overrun. I slam my fist down on the cheap nightstand, and the particleboard splinters beneath the impact at the same time that my phone goes off.
I already know it’s Walsh, asking me a question I don’t have an answer to: Which address do we take?
Each second that ticks down on the clock is torturous as I scan the video for any other clues and come up empty. Delilah’s cries for help drown me in those moments. She wouldn’t need to cry out if I’d been there. If I’d protected her.
Once I decided I wanted her, I should have stolen her away.
I shouldn’t have trusted my brother. I should never have let him lay a hand on her. She was always mine to have. And I belonged to her.
I haven’t slept, I haven’t eaten. I’m a shell of a man without her.
Staring at the phone, at Walsh’s question I already knew was coming, I picture the two wires yet again. I can’t risk the wrong choice, not when her life’s on the line. There’s never been a moment since I made the decision to be the person I am where I’ve felt such despair and uncertainty.
A moment passes without a response from me and Walsh calls, the phone ringing in my hand. Swallowing thickly, I answer it.
I don’t know what to say, so I don’t say a damn thing.
“You there?” he asks and at that I respond, “Yeah. I’m here.”
“My partner is on his way. We can take the farthest address. Backup has been called. They’ll be coming in from the south, so taking the northernmost option will cover our asses if she’s at the south location. We’ll call it in and they’ll be there quicker than we can get there.”
The very thought of men I don’t know getting to Delilah first, risking they aren’t corrupt and needing to have faith that they’ll be able to save her … I can’t and won’t risk it. I can’t risk her simply being passed into the hands of another enemy.
“If you’re going north, I’ll take the south address.”
“What? No, we can’t split up.”
“We can and we have to,” I say, staring at the map Riggins laid out. He goes north while I take the south location. It’s on us to save her. Not a man I don’t know. She is everything to me, and who are they? They’re no one I know or trust.