Page 80 of Bullet

I’m virtually ignored, but I do hear one officer say to another, on the far side of the warehouse, “They tried to set the place on fire, but all the gasoline did was burn up on the floor. I guess they didn’t have time to do a proper job.”

I suppose securing the area and catching Harold and his men is more important than untying me. I force myself to wait patiently, though on the inside I’m like a bottle of shaken champagne, about to explode. The only thing keeping me upright are the ropes tying me to this pillar.

Finally, I lose the battle to keep silent, watching the frantic scurrying of a small officer, a woman with her hair spun into a tight brunette bun under her hat, and I start begging. “Please.” My voice is drowned out by the chaos, and she rushes right past me.

I have the most disgusting urge to scream. This isn’t the rescue scenario I imagined it would be. Where is Bullet? The club? Willa? Are they safe? They called the police, I’m certain, but maybe it was someone else, just a regular, concerned citizen who saw something.

I try to call out again, but my voice comes out nothing more than a feeble croak.

A few minutes later, when a group of officers heads my way, surrounding me, and they start cutting at the ropes and finally snap the zip ties at my wrist, I stagger forward, rubbing at the raw, bloody marks, trying to chafe the burning pain out of my arms.

Two middle-aged officers corner me as though I’m going to race out of here now that I’m free. Their faces burn with questions, and like the officers who came to the house when mymother died, there isn’t an ounce of sympathy or compassion there. Anger bubbles up in me, but I force it back down. I don’t know who called them. I don’t know how much they know. I’m not going to implicate the club if I can help it.

“Do you have a phone I can use?” I channel my inner badass, the woman who wouldn’t allow herself to be kidnapped and hog fucking tied, who was utterly helpless against Harold and his evil, bound and used as bait. “Please. I’d like to call my sister and make sure she’s alright. Those men said they’d taken her, but I haven’t seen her.”

“I’m Officer Daniels,” the first cop says, at least offering me a forced small smile. “I’m afraid we’ll have some questions that we need to ask first.”

I want to explode at this man. I want to scream and yell and be hysterical. I want to fucking shatter into pieces, but just like when my mom was murdered and no one seemed to be doing anything about it, I have to glue my pieces together.

“I’m extremely worried about my sister. She might have been kidnapped as well. I’ll answer your questions, but I need to reassure myself that she’s okay.”

After sharing a look with Officer Daniels that speaks more to the fact that he wants to be anywhere but here, dealing with anyone but me, the second officer slides a phone out of his pocket, unlocks it, and passes it to me.

I dial Willa’s number, fear like razor wire digging its barbs into my flesh. Her voice is the sweetest sound I have ever heard.

“Hello?”

“Willa! Oh my god. Where are you?”

“I’m at the club. Oh, thank god, Lynette.”

She knows I’m calling from a private number and can probably hear the chaos in the background. My sister is smart enough not to say anything, especially over a phone that isn’t mine.

“The police are there. Thank sweet fucking goodness. Are you okay?”

“I-I’m fine. You’re okay. That’s all that matters.”

“That’s not all that matters!” she shouts indignantly. “It’s so like you to worry about everyone else before yourself. You’ll be better soon. Hart’s too far from Seattle. There was only one option, but I promise, you aren’t going to have to deal with this yourself for much longer. I’m safe and I can’t wait to see you. I love you so fucking much.”

Tears prick my eyes. I squeeze them shut, narrowing the warehouse down into non-existence, picturing Willa’s face. “I love you too. See you soon. Bye.”

I hang up and pass the officer back his phone. He crosses his arms and they both stare me down. I don’t know why they’re trying to intimidate me, but maybe it’s just force of habit.

“I’ll answer whatever questions you want. Here or at the station. I’m a lawyer, and I’ll be representing myself, so I don’t need to call one. You can read me my rights or whatever, if that’s what you’re going to do.”

The one who gave me the phone blinks. “You’re not under arrest.”

“Right. You both have the bedside manner of a fucking body snatcher straight from the pages of history who can’t wait for someone to die so they can get them to some secret lab, fresh and warm.”

Officer Daniels actually cracks a real smile. “I apologize if we appear gruff. Why don’t you walk us through what happened tonight?”

Determined I wouldn’t say anything about my prior knowledge of Harold, I take them both through, step by step, getting kidnapped from my house, put in a van, and brought here. I drag it out just long enough that by the time Officer Daniels is asking me why it was me in particular who was targeted, I hear the thunderous rumble of bikes slowly stealing up on the warehouse.

Everything and everyone around me pauses, holding a collective breath to listen to the sweetest sound I have ever heard. It’s far, far sweeter than the sirens from earlier, though they drove Harold and his men off. They’ve probably found them and gotten them into their cars outside already.

Hopefully.

Even if they didn’t, Harold won’t manage to evade arrest for long, and Donny, who probably came back here with his dad, won’t evade justice either.

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