“What the fuck? Mike, is that you, or Darth Vader?” Definitely not Mike.
Kane had gone to the precaution of putting the mask on, even though we figured she wouldn’t see his face when he leaped on her from behind, and shoved her into the van.
We’d heard of too many bungled crimes because the idiots trying to pull them off had failed to account for the things that might go wrong. We weren’t those guys. I had a Plan C for my Plan B, all way to Z.
If it turned out she was also a black belt in karate or some shit, and put up a worthy fight, for example, and he couldn’t get the hood on, or she somehow managed to get it off, we didn’t want her to be able to ID him. Not initially, at least. Not only that, but the voice changer was built into the masks, so if we wanted one, we had to have the other, and I was fine with that. It all added to the element of surprise.
For my part, even though the windows of the vehicle were heavily tinted, I was wearing a balaclava as I drove. I figured the Anonymous mask was too much of a red flag, but I wanted something just in case we were somehow caught on camera some step of the way, even with the tints. I had literally every base covered.
Kane laughed. I always found it exceedingly freaky when anyone did that wearing one of the masks. Not only was the sound eerily incongruous—yet at the same time totally fitting with the facial expression of the mask—but it really just sounded bizarre. “Less Darth Vader, more Grim Reaper, so I’d watch my mouth if I were you.”
“Well you’re not me. You’re some dipshit coward who gets off on scaring, and now hurting, women, but you don’t even have the guts to show your face while doing it. It’s so easy to hide behind the keyboard, or phone, or a hood. Such a big man. Not.”
“I said, shut up.” I watched in the rear view as Kane jerked Rose’s arms roughly further behind her. I still didn’t quite know what was going on with him. When we’d put the finer details of the plan together, he’d asked to be the one who physically grabbed her from the street, and held her in the back on the van until we got to the warehouse, while I drove. When I’d said that it should be me who got my hands dirty, so to speak—it was my vendetta and score to settle, after all—he’d flatly refused.
His reasoning was that any issue I had with anyone was also his issue. It was part of being my best friend and always having my back. Even still, I insisted it should be my role, but he pushed the fact that he wanted to do it.
I was trying my best not to question his motives, but I couldn’t silence the little voice in the back of my head that did exactly that. It wasn’t that I thought he was going to do something out of order, but I did suspect that he didn’t trust me not to use undue force in capturing Rose.
He had it all wrong. Some force was necessary, of course—after the video debacle, she was hardly going to come with us if we hadn’t grabbed her from the street—but this whole thing was less about the physical, and way more about the psychological, and he knew that.
I wanted her to suffer mentally, and emotionally the way my whole family had. The way Jules had, before... I wanted her to live a waking nightmare, the same torment that had plagued my sleep ever since…
My mind raced as I drove through the city streets toward the warehouse, and I watched the scene unfolding in the back of the van. With my concentration focused elsewhere, I almost didn’t see the red light until it was too late, but not wanting to run it, and risk drawing undue attention, I slammed on the brakes just in time to come to an extremely abrupt stop, right on the line of the intersection. The commotion in the back was so loud, I wouldn’t have been surprised if it could be heard from the street.
Again my attention was drawn to the back, instead of focused on the road ahead, though at least this time we weren’t actually moving.
“Jesus Christ. What the fuck are you doing? Do you want to kill us?” Even with the metallically distorted voice from the mask, Kane’s fury was obvious.
I grabbed my mask from the passenger seat next to me, and pushed the mouthpiece to my lips.
“I couldn’t run the light, and I was so focused on you guys that I almost missed it. Speaking of killing people, what the hell is happening back there? You’re supposed to be holding her. That’s the whole point of you being in there. Otherwise, you could have just bundled her in the back and left her to her own devices while you rode up front with me.”
“Shit. I don’t think she’s okay.”
“What?” I turned around even further, straining to see what the fuck was going on. “What are you talking about?”
“I think she hit her head. She’s not moving.”
“Fuck’s sake, man. You had one fucking job.” A heavy feeling hit the pit of my stomach, flooding me with nausea. Honking horns behind me alerted me to the fact that the light had changed again. Fuck. I pulled away from the intersection reluctantly. If I stayed any longer, I’d risk drawing more attention to us than I wanted to, which had been the exact reason for stopping on a dime the way I had in the first place.
“Get the fucking hood off her. Now, you idiot!”
“Quit the attitude. You’re the one who hit the brakes hard like that. I’m not a magician, or a fucking superhero. We were both thrown around like rag dolls.”
“Whatever. Just make sure she’s okay.”
“She’s breathing, but I think she’s out cold.” I craned my neck around to get a better look. “I’m guessing she hit her head on the wheel hub.” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. An unconscious captive was not part of the plan. My mind raced—I was torn between carrying on, or abandoning the whole thing in favor of driving to the nearest ER, dropping her off, and hoping she’d be okay.
“She probably just fainted.” Kane was crouched over her with his back to me, obscuring my view of her. “Sit down and put the hood on your thighs, folded to make a pillow, then roll her onto her side, into the recovery position, and lift her head and lay it in your lap. Try to keep her still for the rest of the journey.
He sat down, complying with my instructions without argument. I did my best to observe the situation and drive safely. When he reached down and stroked her bangs away from her forehead, I damn near smashed the brakes again, but on purpose this time, just to end the hell of watching him be so tender with her. It was killing me.
“If she’s breathing and has a pulse, she’ll be fine. Like I said before, she probably just passed out.”
“Is that your expert medical opinion, Doctor? Oh no, wait. You’re not a fucking doctor, and you have no goddamned idea what you’re talking about.”
“Trust me. She’ll be okay.”