Page 104 of Rex

Opening the door and walking in, the first thing I notice is Marti. I stare at her blankly, my eyes seeing but my brain not processing the image. She’s sitting in her chair behind the front desk, and there’s blood everywhere. It’s dripping down the wall behind her, and the pool of blood is spreading across the floor. It’s even coming out from under her desk. As soon as my mind realizes what I’m seeing, I reach for the handgun in my waistband. I took too long, and it’s too late now.

“Don’t do that,” a male voice says, and I don’t since the barrel of his gun is now touching the back of my head. “I’ll take it so you’re not tempted to do something stupid.”

I keep my hands out to my sides while looking directly at Marti. She has her eyes half open, but she’s as dead as a body can get. There’s a large red hole in the middle of her forehead, and I’m guessing the guy behind me or the one standing next to Marti’s desk put it there.

“What do you want?” I ask while not moving anything but my mouth.

I know the man standing next to Marti. I’ve been tracking him for a while now, and other than looking a little older than his mugshot, he hasn’t changed much. It’s Dave Mishan, and it’s not a big stretch of the imagination to assume the one behind me is his partner, Gary Lechner. Why they’re here is the big question I need answered.

“You,” Dave says with a crooked grin. “Let’s go before any more of your coworkers show up and have to be put down. Unless you’re into watching that.”

I glance toward the camera and know it’s recording everything. I also know I’ve taught the guys well, and they’ll pull up the footage immediately. Turning, I see I’m right, and it’s Gary standing there.

“Where are we going?” I ask, wanting that information on tape.

“Some place where you’ll have plenty of privacy to do some work for us. You don’t need to know anything else,” Gary says before waving toward the door.

Glancing at the clock above the door, I know the guys won’t be here for at least thirty minutes yet. I also know going to a new location is always bad for the person being kidnapped. I gather my thoughts, take a deep breath, and grab Gary’s wrist.

I push his arm up so the gun isn’t pointed at me and throw a punch at his face with the other hand. It makes his head snap back, but only for a second. Shoving with everything in me, I pin him against the wall by the door and continue throwing punches. I hear the gun hit the floor, and I bring my knee up ashard as I can, but it only catches him in the thigh. Gary and I start throwing punches at each other, and I take a few to the face. So does he.

When Dave joins in, the room explodes in chaos. I throw fists, elbows, and feet. Using everything I’ve learned from Cash, Pooh, and Axel, I fight, and I fight hard. When I strike Dave in the jaw, I have a moment of victory as it drops him to a knee. Gary’s punch takes the air from my lungs, and I feel a rib crack under the pressure of it. Whirling toward him, I throw an elbow aimed at his nose. It finds the target, and blood sprays from it instantly. At this point, Dave’s recovered enough to join back in, and he knees me in the thigh, deadening my leg momentarily.

Hobbling, unsteady on my leg, I swing for Dave’s jaw, and it connects perfectly. When he stumbles back, I tackle him. Rolling around on the floor, we kick, hit, and claw at each other. Gary, still standing, starts kicking me in the back and ribs. The pain from them is intense, but I continue trying to get Dave in an arm bar. Just as I accomplish it and he starts screaming in agony, I take a blow to my head, and things turn blurry. When I hear the gun exploding a round, I know who’s being shot. It’s me, and the pain is indescribable. My hold on Dave loosens enough that he stops screaming.

Scrambling on the floor, I feel something hard and grab it. It’s an ink pen, and without thought, I swing it at Dave. It embeds in his shoulder, and his whole body contorts violently, jerking away from me. When I bolt to my feet, I find standing causes pain to slice through my thigh. Grabbing at it, my hand finds blood.

Gary’s foot slams into the gunshot wound, and I go back down to the floor in a heap. Dave is still rolling around on the floor, but he’s out of the fight for now. I buried that ink pen as far as I couldthrough the top of his shoulder, and that arm is now useless. I roll away when Gary tries to stomp on my injured leg, but I have nowhere to go. Dave’s in the way on one side, and Gary’s on the other.

I push my body in a half-circle so I’m on my back but facing Gary. When he gets close, I kick with my good leg. I catch him in the knee, driving it backward, and it’s Gary who’s now hollering and cussing in pain. He takes a step back, raises the gun, and points it directly at my head.

“Don’t! We need him alive,” Dave shouts. “He’s no good to us if he’s dead.”

Gary hesitates for a few seconds, then lowers the gun until it’s pointed at my good leg.

“I’m done fighting with you! Get up and get moving, or your other leg’s getting filled with lead, asshole!” Gary hollers.

I slowly struggle my way to standing, pain slamming through my head, ribs, and thigh. Dave stands with as much difficulty as me, and I almost grin at seeing only a small amount of ink pen showing from his body. When he points to the door, I shake my head.

“Might as well kill me because I’m not leaving any other way,” I state and prepare mentally for the gunshot.

Before I can turn my head enough to see Gary, though, everything goes black.

When I start to wake up, I realize my world is full of pain. Everything hurts, top to bottom. I slowly open one eye and thenthe other, but my left eye doesn’t open enough to see from it. My head feels like it was split open as pain ricochets through it so bad I gasp. Gasping is a mistake because that starts pain bouncing from one broken rib to another.

Taking in small amounts of air at a time, I do a mental checklist of what’s injured and how bad. The list is long, with injuries of one sort or another throughout my body. I try to reach down to check my thigh but discover my hands are tied to the arms of a chair. Trying to move my legs, I find they’re tied to the chair also. I’m immobile.

I look around at my surroundings, but there’s not much to see. I’m sitting on a chair in what looks like a basement with cement walls. Two tiny windows on each side wall, and that’s it. There’s a table in front of me, nothing on it. Stairs off to my left, but nobody is here with me. The windows tell me it’s still daytime, but that’s all I know. Looking down, I see my watch is gone, and I’m guessing my phone is too.

Fuck me. This isn’t good. Testing the ties on my wrists, I find they’re tight with no slack. Same with my legs. I’m trussed up better than Ava’s Thanksgiving turkey. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. The only thing left for me to do is to try to figure out why these two men want me, where I am and to sit here in pain until I get some answers. At least my leg is only leaking small amounts of blood now. I know the club will be looking for me and won’t stop until I’m found, but I have no idea how long that could take and if I’ll be alive when it happens.

My thoughts drift to Aria. I’m wondering if she knows I’m missing, and I find myself hoping the club hasn’t told her yet. I know they will at some point, but I want her to have as much of the day as possible, smiling like she was this morning when Ileft. I don’t want to be the reason that causes her pain or fear. I know, with every part of me, this is going to bring her down low. I know this because if the situation were reversed, I’d be losing my mind.

“Be strong, Aria. I’m not giving up the chance to spend my life with you,” I murmur before saying a silent prayer for a path back to her.

Chapter 14

Pigeon

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