They’ve underestimated me from the beginning. That was their mistake.
***
It’s seven when I get home and already dark outside. I should be feeling good, but I’m just anxious to get this part over with. I would’ve preferred to grab her myself, but Bardil deserves a role in this. He deserves to be part of it. The reason I only told him so much later in the plan was that I was almost hoping he’d say he wasn’t available to help. But given his levels of anger, I guess it was presumptuous of me, because if I were him, I would cancel anything else and rather do this.
The next two hours are going to be agonizing unless I do something to take my mind off the waiting, so I dump my things down in the kitchen and head upstairs to change into sweatpants and a t-shirt.
There is a gym in my mansion, and I can’t think of a better way to release the tension than a workout.
***
Sweat is soaked into my t-shirt, my muscles straining and shaking as I finish the final rep with the heavy iron weights. With a loud huff, I drop them down onto the rubber mats and lean over to grab my water bottle, gulping three mouthfuls.
Quarter past eight. Perfect.
Just enough time for a quick shower and a bite to eat.
Checking my phone, I nod, satisfied, reading Bardil’s text to confirm he’s arrived at the theater. It takes me five minutes to shower, another five to throw on some fresh clothes, and another five to grab some leftovers from the fridge.
Sitting at the dining room table, I press the earpiece into my left ear.
“You there?” I ask.
“Here,” Bardil replies. “I’ve located her car and scouted the theater. I’m waiting at the corner street between her car and the entrance.”
“Good. Let me know when…”
“Shit, they’re coming out!” Bardil sounds excited.
I fall silent, listening intently.
Between sniffling sounds, Bardil’s grunts, and the occasional spoken update, I follow along as he stalks Nikita toward her car. In the distance, I hear female voices, “See you at the bar, order me a Sherbet Glitter if you get there before me.”
“It’s her,” Bardil whispers.
My heart beats faster, my skin tingling with anticipation.
Bardil’s breathing changes; everything goes quieter.
Without realizing it, I’m also holding my breathe. The food on the dining room table next to me is untouched.
A sharp scream pierces through the earpiece, and I wince.
It’s cut off, and Bardil growls something I can’t make out.
A car door slams, banging, another scream, but muffled.
“I have her, she’s in the trunk, we’re on the way,” Bardil snarls, as tires skid against tar.
“Come straight here,” I demand.
“See you in fifteen minutes.”
Standing up, I’m grinning, unable to believe it’s finally happening.
I grab my phone and dial my lawyer.
“Mr. Killian, you can come around this evening with those papers I had you prepare for me,” I say, unable to hide the excited edge to my voice.
