Page 44 of Take A Chance

When I heard the voice, though, I fell to my knees right there, doubled over.

“Blake...”

25

Emma

The car bumped over the uneven ground. I had no clue where we were, some abandoned building on the outskirts of town. I held a loaded gun in my hand, but I didn’t dare point it at any of the men in this vehicle with me. My father hadn’t come along—left the dirty work to his underboss and minions. I’d already thrown up twice, though they hadn’t stopped the car for me. The man my father called Jazz just held a bucket up and watched me struggle to breathe as I dry heaved.

They laughed at me, calling me a sissy. I knew it was the pregnancy, not my nerves. If it meant getting away from them and being free, I’d have unloaded this clip into his brain. I was that scared. It was me or someone else, and my father had given me little leeway. If I didn’t kill Louie’s cousin, it was me.

The car came to a stop behind a dumpster, and Jazz opened the door, grabbing my arm and dragging me out with him. One other man got out with us, but the two others remained in the car. It was cold, sort of raining, and dark. Of course, creepy, crawly things only came out in the dark. Of course, they’d do their business at night. They were monsters, the type that my mother warned me about that hid under my bed and preyed upon my fear, and now I was here, alone, being forced to murder someone I’d once cared about.

“You know how to use that?” Jazz asked me.

Numb and cold, I shrugged. He yanked the gun from my hand, pulled the slide action back to chamber a round, turned the safety off, and forced me to take it again. I could have pointed it at him and fired, but I knew by the time I had, the other guy, whose name I didn’t know, would have his out and pointed at me. I couldn’t risk it.

“Now you go in there. You play all nice with the douche, and you get on his good side. Tell him whatever you have to tell him—you ran away, you need his help—whatever. And when you’re alone with him, you cap him. Got it?”

I nodded at him, frightened.

“Don’t fuck this up, bitch. The boss don’t like it when things don’t go as planned. You’re already on his bad side because—”

“Because you lied to him? Told him I was in on the plot to kill him? You knew I had nothing to do with that, and you lied about—” His hand came down across my cheek hard, and I winced and reached for it.

“Shut the hell up and just go do what you’re told. No one likes a mouthy woman.” He pointed at the back of the warehouse.

“There’s no door,” I mumbled, rubbing my already bruised cheek. At least he hadn’t threatened sexual assault again. I was getting sick of that. It was like the only thing my father’s men thought was scary to me was being forced to have sex with them. This guy had a bit more of a head on his shoulders.

“Just around the corner. Now don’t fuck with me. Go do it. Then get out as fast as you can. Run back here, and we’ll get the hell out of Dodge.”

I gritted my teeth and started toward the building. I shoved the gun down the back of my pants the way I’d seen people on television do. The steel was cold against my skin, and so was the rain. I was marching to my death out here. Tony’s men would never let me in, not after the way Louie had died. My father was insane if he thought I could sneak my way into this stronghold and kill one of the highest-ranking members of the opposing family and walk back out like it was a cakewalk.

Or maybe that was his point. He intended to sacrifice me in the attempt to get revenge for something someone else did to him. Being accused of attempting to murder him was hard enough. I loved my father despite his flaws. But this? Being a sheep for the slaughter, it was too much. He’d gone too far. Pushed me past the edge. I’d never be able to forgive him now. Not after this.

I approached the building and peeked around the corner. Jazz was right. There was a door there with a single light hung above it, shining downward at the puddle just outside the threshold. Several black sedans were parked there too, all dark and off. But just beyond that was a wooded lot, a hole in the fence, and freedom. I glanced back at the dumpster. From where I stood, I saw no one—not Jazz, not the other guy, not the car. I knew they could see me, though. Until I walked around the corner.

My heart raced. A plot was hatching in my mind. This was my way out. I could run, hide in the woods. Get away from these guys. They’d come after me, yes, but I could get away from here now, hopefully somewhere safe, where I could get back to Blake.

My stomach churned again at the thought of Blake. I didn’t know whether he’d protect me or reject me. I had lied to him, and I knew I’d have to fess up. He was probably worried sick by now. Katelyn probably missed me. Maybe she was scared. And Greta. I knew she’d be terrified, a straight hot mess. But that was my life now, and my only hope.

With another glance over my shoulder, I walked slowly around the corner of the building. And when I was out of sight from the car, I took off. I ran to the fence, squeezing through. It made an awful racket, but I had no other way out. The sharp metal where the fence had previously been cut scraped across my side, drawing blood, and I cried out softly.

The gash was deep, but it was a small price to pay. I darted toward the wood line and heard something thump on the ground behind me. The gun. I reached to my back and no longer felt the chill of the metal. It had fallen. My only real protection out here was gone, but I couldn’t turn back to find it. It was dark and rainy, and I heard voices.

As I reached the trees, I paused and looked back. In the dim light, I could see men pouring out of the building, shouting. Then I heard shots fired, ricocheting off the dumpster, or maybe the car. I hid behind the tree, trembling and shivering. I had to run, to get farther away from here before they sent dogs out or came hunting with their weapons. So I pushed into the woods.

Branches snapped and clawed at my skin. I ran as fast as I could, sobbing and praying I’d find somewhere to hide. But the voices I thought would be fading away seemed to be getting closer. Like they were following me. I stopped to catch my breath, terrified to hear stomping and snapping of twigs. They were following me.

“Oh, my God,” I whimpered and pushed myself onward through the rain as it picked up. Thunder cracked overhead, and my one saving grace was that they had no flashlights. They couldn’t see me any more than I could see them. So I got smart.

I stopped running, leaning against the backside of a large tree, and thought carefully how to evade them. There was a fallen log, a large one, lying across the path ahead. To its right was a huge mass of tangled branches. I tried to calm my breathing even with the enemy encroaching on me, and I crept quietly toward the old log.

They were getting closer, but they were loud. I knew right where they were. The log was in such a shadowy place, I knew they’d never see me. I lay down beside it and used my elbows to pull myself in between the rotted stump and the brambles. Thorns scraped my face, clawing at my hair. I wanted to whimper, but I knew they’d hear me. So silently, I snuck into the hell that was a copse of briars and held my breath.

I was trembling, shaking so badly that if the raindrops hitting the leaves hadn’t been deafening, they’d have heard me. As they approached, I held my breath. One man screamed to the other, but they never even slowed down. They leapt over that downed log and ran right past me. I sobbed into my elbow, waiting for them to pass. My heart hammered in my chest. I was soaked to the bone, and I was safe for now.

But they would come back.

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