“Ignore it. Focus on your own problems,” Carmen coaxed once it was quiet again. “Start crawling down.”
There really wasn’t anything they could do about Nova and the gunshots while the two of them were stuck in this laundry chute, so Brianna decided to trust Carmen.
She took her feet off the ledge on the other side of the Don’s closet and braced them in the corners of the laundry chute.
“That’s it.” Carmen was still shining the burner phone up at them. “You can make it.”
Brianna’s arm was still stabbing her with every small movement, and she stopped trying to use it. Instead, she utilized her back muscles and leg power to slowly inch her way down. She tried to ignore how suffocated and trapped she felt, but on some level, Brianna was sure a fear of small places was being planted in her mind to haunt her later if they lived through this nightmare. She steadied herself with her good hand, still carefully sliding down, and it worked for the most part. It was just very slow work.
Carmen caught Brianna’s ankle once she could reach her. “You’re almost there.”
Brianna was close enough to drop down the rest of the way, and she rested her feet against the ledge above the opening, trying to figure out how she was going to do this with one bad arm.
Carmen touched her thigh and said, “Go ahead and drop your legs down. You’re okay now.”
Brianna realized there was no graceful way to do this. Falling that short of a distance wouldn’t kill her. The arm situation felt more important, but it still wasn’t easy.
She dropped her left foot, braced her right arm harder against the wall, and realized she couldn’t do it. “I think you have to help me. I can’t use my other arm, something’s stabbing it, and?—”
“It’s okay.” Carmen wrapped one hand around Brianna’s left hip. “I’ll help you.”
“I’m bleeding everywhere,” Brianna argued.
“So, bleed on me.” Carmen sounded like she meant it. “I got you, pretty girl.”
It was awkward when Brianna dropped her other foot. She had no choice but to let Carmen bear a large part of her weight,but in that one instant, Brianna realized the other woman was incredibly strong and decided to give in and let her do the work.
Carmen helped her land on the blankets far more gracefully than she would have on her own. The laundry chute ended in one of the large cabinets next to the washing machine. When Brianna peered into the darkened basement, she realized she was about three and a half feet off the ground. Carmen had been standing on a stool and stepped down to give Brianna room. Before Brianna could jump, a beam of light lit up the basement when the door opened. Kneeling there, she had a perfect view of the stairs and tensed with fear.
She saw two men and one gun.
The dim light, shadows, and pain made it hard to sort out the other information. At first, she thought Nova was the one in trouble. He was the one being forced against the wall, choking and grunting in pain. There was just no way Nova could be the other guy. It was the way he had the gun jammed against the back of the other man’s neck, hard and punishing. A part of her mind couldn’t accept it, because she knew instinctively that he was a genuine killer.
“Iwillkill you, motherfucker,” he growled at the bleeding gangster as he pulled the door shut, casting them into near darkness. “I’ll shoot you and leave you dead on the stairs if you even remotely irritate me because I don’t have time to babysit. Do you understand?”
Standing there in the darkness, Carmen grabbed Brianna’s foot and whispered, “Jump, sweetheart,” sounding unconcerned about the villain in the basement.
In those three seconds, Brianna realized Nova was the one holding the gun. He was the dangerous one—the killer.
Brianna jumped down and nearly busted her ass on the cement floor because her sneakers were bloody. Carmen caught her and whispered, “Are you okay?”
Brianna just looked at her.
Carmen gave Brianna a sad smile. “Yeah, I hear you.” She guided her over to a spot next to the washing machine. “Sit.”
Brianna sat heavily, feeling disgusting, sweaty, and bloody.
Carmen stepped back over to the laundry chute and called up, “Come down.”
“Already working on it.” Carina’s voice echoed from above.
Brianna was glad for the darkness. She had an excuse to ignore her arm. Then Carmen ruined it by running over to the bedroom and flipping on the lamp, allowing enough light to prevent them from tripping and falling, but still keeping the basement dark from upstairs.
“Take your shirt off,” Nova told the guy when the two men got to the bottom of the stairs. “Pants, too.”
The other gangster took off his shirt, showing off a cut, athletic body. He was pale, and the blood on his chest made him seem all the more pallid. It appeared he was shot in the shoulder, but it was hard to tell. Taking the shirt off had to be agony, but he managed it somehow.
Nova wasn’t impressed by the feat. He simply told the guy, “Shove it in your mouth, and if I see you take it out, I’m killing you. Pants off.”