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“Do you have somebody looking out for you?”
Rachael doesn’t know about the brick through the window or the meetup. This is a weird question for her to ask. “I’m fine, Rach,” I tell her. “Really.”
“You’re alone?” she presses. “Or is somebody there with you?”
I listen more closely to her tone of voice. I should’ve heard it initially, but all my thoughts are on Duke, vicious imagery filling my thoughts when I think about all the things that could happen to him tonight.
“Rach, are you okay?”
“Just answer the question,” she snaps, then tries to laugh it off. “I mean, sorry for being concerned for mybestie. There’s no reason to…Get out of there, Molly. Get out of there now!”she yells. It sounds like she’s been hit.
“Rach?” I yell down the phone. “Rach?”
There’s no reply for a moment, and then Rachael’s voice is torn with tension. It’s like she’s choking on something. “Back… yard… two… minutes… alone… or… they… will… kill… me…”
The call ends. A moment later, Tim bangs on the door. “Molly? Why were you yelling?”
I should tell him right here, but if they’ve got Rachael, and if I don’t go alone… My chest hurts, tightening. My belly twists with even more anxiety. Everything feels as if it’s falling apart, and that’s because it is.
“Sorry, yeah,” I reply. “I’m talking to my friend on the phone. Her boyfriend cheated on her. She said she was going to do something drastic, but I think she’s calming down a little now.”
“Okay then,” Tim replies. “I’m downstairs if you need anything.”
I wait until he’s gone, forcibly slowing my breathing down. Duke’s voice is in my head, telling me to stay, telling me I can’t risk our future, but Rachael isn’t part of this. If she gets hurt, it will be because she’smyfriend, and that’s it. There’s no other reason for them to target her.
Creeping to the door, I open it and walk down the stairs as quietly as possible. The entire time, it’s like Duke is watching me, telling me to turn back and tell Tim what’s happening, but I can’t let them hurt Rachael. I should’ve guessed they might go for her to get to me and through me, to get to Duke.
Turning away from the living room, I walk to the backyard. My breath catches when I spot the two men standing on the other side of the fence, their shoulders and heads visible. Both of them are wearing masks. One of them gestures at me, waving a leather-gloved hand as if telling me to hurry up.
I swallow and turn back to the house. This is my chance to tell Tim, but then I think about Rachael’s voice, the choking, the fear. Opening the back door, I move toward the men.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR
Duke
I stand in the center of a cage. Not a cage like I used to fight in, but an actual cage. It’s big enough to move around, bright lights glaring at me from above. As soon as I arrived at the warehouse, several masked men emerged, aiming guns at me. I barely had time to react. Anyway, there was nothing I could do before they shoved a black bag over my head.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been waiting here. I can’t hear anybody else, but it seems clear that they want to put on some sick show. Maybe if I play along, but that could be wishful thinking on my part. There may be noplaying alongwith these men. Maybe Ethan was right. I should’ve worn a wire or even brought a gun.
Finally, the lights dim, all but one. A spotlight shines on the other side of the room beyond the cage. My throat gets tight as I see my son standing in the light, fear streaking his features, a patch of blood on his neck. For a second, the light distorts, and it’s my five-year-old Ryan standing there, blood in the same spot, the same fear in his eyes. I rub my face and focus.
“Are you ready, Dad?” Ryan calls over. The words sound strange. It’s not how he usually talks. He’s been forced to say this. “You acted like a real big shot back at the bar with your pathetic little sucker-punching b-bullshit.” He stutters at the end, like an actor forgetting his lines. “Now you’ve got a choice to make. For each person you sacrifice, you get to keep a hand free, but if you want to keep us alive, you’ll have to sacrifice both hands.”
I turn around, looking into the darkness of the warehouse. It’s pitch black, impossible to make out. No, I see the end of a cigarette, an orange glow in the dark. I wonder if there are more men out there. There must be.
“Which one of you am I fighting, then?” I roar, slamming my hand against my chest.
“Dad,” Ryan says. “Please listen. You have to choose. Are you going to sacrifice me? Or are you going to sacrifice Molly?”
“M-Molly?” I clench my hands into fists, my chest heaving, staring at my son, trying to figure this out. “Molly isn’t…”
“Ah, right on cue,” a voice says from the darkness with a cruel, mocking twinge.
Two masked men appear in the spotlight beside Ryan and, between them, fear making her eyes wide, stands Molly. My woman. The moment I see her, my instincts kick in. I spring toward the wall of the cage and leap into the air. It’s like how I’d sometimes celebrate fights, sitting in the cage.
I’ve clambered to the top when one of the men pushes a gun against Molly’s head. The other man presses the barrel of his pistol against Ryan’s head.
“Climb down, big man,” the voice says, the same one from the phone, the leader who stood up at the poker table. The fuckingcoward.
