The cops are knocking on the doors of Hazel’s neighbors, asking questions. Detective Thomas walks next door and begins talking with the woman there. Tired and shaken, she speaks as she points at Hazel’s apartment, and then down the street. The detective takes notes the entire time. Other cops are doing the same thing.
“Come on, babe.” Erick lays his hand on my shoulder and turns me around. “Let’s go find Bobby.”
I follow him into Hazel’s apartment, once again filled with cops. We spot Bobby on the couch, clutching the back of his head. An officer hands him an ice pack, and Bobby accepts it, placing it against his head.
“You alright?” Erick asks him.
“Yeah. They rocked me pretty good. Enough to knock me the fuck out.”
Bobby scoots over to give us room to sit. I don’t want to sit; I want to find my best friend. What the fuck is going on around this town? How could crazy shit likethis happen repeatedly? It’s one fucking thing after another, and I don’t even know what to think right now. Bobby was here. He was right fucking here and couldn’t protect her. If it’s not Phil, who the fuck are we up against? I don’t feel sorry for Bobby one bit. Hazel has been through much more than him, and who knows what those bastards are doing to her now. If my eyes could kill, Bobby would be begging for his life.
“I’m sorry, Cady. We will find her.” Bobby winces and adjusts the ice pack.
“Oh, yeah?” I spit. “How the fuck are we supposed to do that?”
Bobby waits for the cops to move away from us. “I may have an idea.”
HAZEL
Voices boom in my head, making me want to cover my ears. I attempt to pull my hands up, but I can’t move them. When I can finally wake up, I see why. My body is strapped down to a bed. One across my chest, one over my waist with wrist restraints, one over my thighs, and the last one over my shins.
Two men chasing me.
I jerk my head around and check for them but see no one. The room reminds me of a clinic. All white, with plain walls and laminate flooring. A table sits near the bed, and there are things strewn on it. The mainthing that catches my attention are the syringes. I do not want to be injected with whatever shit is in those.
A speaker outside the door crackles and a loud voice muffles through it hurting my head. That must be what woke me. I lie here and try to slow my heart rate, but it’s no use. Fear of the unknown rules me. Twisting my wrists, I pull at the restraints with the hope I’ll slip free. They seem to only get tighter the longer I fight against them. I drop my head against the pillow to ease the ache in my neck from craning to get a better view. The sound of my frustration echoes in the quiet room.
How the hell am I supposed to get out of this?
I hear the thumping of footsteps right outside, and then a shadow appears under the crack of the door. My heart pounds faster as my hands automatically make fists. I hold my breath as keys rattle in the door before the knob turns. When it opens, two men wearing suits step inside, closing the door behind them.
The men in black.
The black-haired man smiles tightly at me as he clutches the strap of a bag. He seems nervous—out of his element. He’s waiting for his cue. The blond man stands tall and confident, with a stern expression. He’s the one that grabbed me. He must be in charge. What he’s in charge of, I’m scared to know. Phil had to have something to do with this. He’s the only reason I’d be kidnapped.
We watch each other for what feels like forever before they approach the bed. I go to scoot away, but I’m trapped by the restraints holding me down. Blondie pulls a chair from the table to my bedside and sits down. Leaning forward, he rests his elbows onhis knees and laces his fingers together. Not once does he look away from me.
“You were brought here because we believe you have information that is of use to us. We do not wish to harm you,” he pauses for a moment. “Butwe will if we have to. Behave, and tell us what we want to know, and you’ll go free. Understand?”
I look between the two men who are waiting for an answer. I don’t know what information they need, but I’m pretty sure I’ve got nothing for them. They will never believe anything I say. If I leave here, it’ll be so they can dispose of my body.
I tremble under Blondie’s sour stare and wish that Phil had killed me when he had the chance. Who knows how much worse these guys are than Phil. I can’t survive another beating right now. And if I’m being honest with myself, I don’t want to experience another one and live to suffer through the agony again. They say third time’s a charm. Maybe this time will be the time I die. I nod, already knowing what’s coming for me. Maybe they’ll make it quick.
“I am going to remove these.” He tugs the strap on my arm. “Stay still until I am done.”
The dark-haired man reaches for a syringe and uncaps it. I keep my focus trained on him. The straps over my body loosen, and Blondie tosses each one onto the far side of the bed. When he’s done, he scoots the chair backward and lowers himself on it.
“Sit up.”
I roll to my side, to hide the wince, and ease myself up. The men watch my every move with narrowed lids as I struggle to get comfortable on the bed. Once I stop shifting, Blondie snaps his fingers. The dark-haired man pulls a laptop from his bag and sets it up on the table. A moment later, an image of us in this room appears on the screen. They are going to record our little chat. I wonder if they are going to record killing me as well.
“How long have you been working with Phil Jenkins?”
My brows draw together as my eyes snap from the screen, locking with Blondie’s. What the fuck is he talking about? He thinks I work for Phil? I don’t understand how he could come to that conclusion. I don’t have anything to do with that bastard.
“Wait…. What? I’ve never worked with Phil.”
“Let me rephrase. How long have you been working with Phil to sell drugs?”
