His eyes immediately find mine,and my heart skips a beat.
Cross strides farther into the old factory, seemingly as casual as if he were strolling through campus. A duffel bag hangs in his hand, and I bet if I listen hard enough, I’ll hear bundles of my father’s cash shuffling around inside.
“‘Bout time,” Alex says, coming to stand in front of me.
“Yeah, ‘bout time,” the other one repeats.
My heart is in my stomach, and the closer Cross gets to us, the more my eyes water.
“Let her go.” His tone is eerily calm, and I cling onto it like his voice is my protection.
I look past the men and their broad shoulders at the door, wondering if the police are going to come. Or maybe my father. But there’s nothing except a vast area with dormant factory machines and a dirty concrete floor.
“We will let her go when you hand over the money you owe us,” Jason sneers.
“This is more than I owe you,” Cross says. “What’s the other fifty thousand for?”
Jason’s shoulders tense. “For pain and suffering. Your bitch of a girlfriend stabbed me in the leg.”
I lean to the left and catch a glimpse of Cross. His jaw is clenched tight as he pulls the duffel bag higher in his grip.
“Have something to say, boy?” Alex asks. “Or can we get this over with?”
Cross glances at me, his brown eyes full of an apology. He tosses the bag across the room, and it lands with a thud. Dust kicks up in between them as Cross attempts to get to me, only he stops abruptly, his shoes slipping against the dusty floor.
Alex pushes something onto his chest. “Not so fast.”
Cross’s arms immediately go up in surrender.
My eyes widen.
I catch sight of a gun, the barrel long and shiny. I plead through the duct tape on my mouth and pull on my wrists again.
Cross looks at me instead of the man pointing the gun at him. Time stops as a tear slips over my cheek. Cross’s neck bobs with a swallow, his cheeks hollow with worry, his hands remaining in their upright position.
“Count it,” Alex barks.
Jason quickly unzips the bag and mutters numbers under his breath.
The longer it takes for him to finish the task, the more impatient Alex seems to become. I stare at the barrel pressed against Cross’s chest, and my heart thumps so quickly I think it’s trying to reach his.
“Hurry up,” Alex presses, digging the gun into Cross’s chest even harder.
I clench my eyes together, too sick with worry to stare any longer.
It’s fine. It’s fine. They’re going to take the money and run.
“It’s all here,” Jason announces.
I open my eyes at the sound of the zipper and watch Alex slowly lower the gun away from Cross.
Oh, thank god.
Cross finally shifts his gaze from mine and looks at both men. “This settles my debt.”
It isn’t a question. Instead, it’s a statement.
Alex chuckles darkly. “You’ve got the confidence of someone who already knows how this ends.”
