My nostrils flared, my heart almost leaping out of my chest.
Breathe, Alexander. Figure a way out of this.
“I was paid ten grand to deal with Cane. You’re just going to be a sweet bonus.”
My entire body raged with fury, and I had to clap a hand over my mouth before I yelled out in frustration. I paced a circle, pulling on my hair, trying to release some of the energy that was threatening to bound up the stairs.
The joists creaked again as he made his way to the other side of my office and away from Jada.
I was still standing beneath where I thought she was, and I heard a small whimper.
My throat closed tight, nearly suffocating me.
Think, Alexander. Fucking think.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and set it to silent. I found Max’s name in my text box.
Me: Call the police and send them to my house. Can’t answer questions. Now!
JADA
Tears flowed down my cheeks, getting caught in the bandana in my mouth. My hair had escaped my ponytail and was now stuck to the sides of my face, glued to my skin by the tears.
My head was so heavy, the pain so bad that I had to force myself to stay awake. I had to be present.
I had to find a way out of this.
Cane will be home soon.
The thought made me cry harder. I had no way to warn him.
I felt beyond helpless, completely and utterly useless. I couldn’t do anything but be tied to this chair and pray that somehow Cane would not walk into this unknowingly.
The man in front of me was leaning against a wall in the shadows, watching out the window. He was watching the wrong way for traffic to be coming in, but maybe that would benefit Cane somehow.
I gave up trying to openly struggle. I could barely concentrate. The pain was so bad, my energy so sapped, that I could barely move anyway. I did work my hands back and forth, side to side, against the restraint. It was sharp, thin, and really hard. It felt like the zip ties my dad used to hold For Sale signs to posts. It probably hurt, but everything hurt, so it was hard to tell.
“Bonita, you may as well stop. You won’t be getting away.” His voice was placating. His shadow moved against the floor as he changed positions, staying encased in the shadows.
I tried to move the bandana in my mouth with my tongue, but it was useless. My tongue was swollen and dry somehow, despite the soaked fabric of the gag.
“Your boyfriend will not take me long to sort out. I didn’t get paid to dispose of his body, so I just need to end him, and then you and I”—he laughed—“you and I will have a little fun before I go.”
Vomit surged up my throat, and I began to choke. The acidic taste of the bile made my eyes water again, causing me to panic. It was the one thing I had tried not to do.
I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t see, I couldn’t hear anything but the man’s awful laughter getting closer. He pulled the fabric out of my mouth, and I spat the fluid all over his shoes, my tears now mixing with the vomit dripping down my chin.
I tried to drag air into my lungs as my face hung pathetically forward, the fluids still dripping out of my mouth.
“You little bitch,” he said in a very controlled tone. He took a step back and slapped me across the face, the loud smack against my eardrum causing it to pop and feel wet.
My eyes began to close again, unable to deal with the pain.
I’m going to die tonight …
FORTY-NINE
Cane
