Molly

I think three days have passed.

Shooter has brought me two more meals since my first club sandwich. She brought me a wax crayon and a notebook after my second meal—at my request.

I asked for a pencil, but I guess that was too close to a weapon. Whatever.

She told me someone’s looking for me, which is simultaneously thrilling and heartbreaking. Who is it?

The only person I know for sure Renee will contact is Stas. Joshua doesn’t know where I am. Mark and Lara don’t know—unless Renee contacts them. Would she? I suppose she might if she inherited her father’s files… If she studied them all the way back to the beginning.

Of course, I would never tell her what I know about her father’s shooting or who pulled the trigger. It’s best if she thinks I don’t know anything. And if that’s the case, will she assume Lara and Mark are equally clueless?

I’m pretty sure Renee will have done her homework. We’re all on the hook in this scenario.

Sometimes when I’m going crazy with boredom, I imagine Joshua somehow manages to track me to this house, and Renee tells him she doesn’t know anything about me.

Alternatively, I imagine Stas comes here to find me, and she kills him. More likely, Stas will kill Renee, but still, he doesn’t know I’m down here. He’d leave…

Would anyone let me out?

Would they all go away and let me die here?

My heart beats too fast when I have these thoughts, and it’s difficult to breathe. I feel like I’m suffocating, and I get panicky.

The fucking door to this place is impenetrable. I’m in a concrete room underground with no windows and a door that’s not only bolted but sticks.

I cross my legs and do another meditation ritual. I’ve gotten to where I do them a lot. I have to keep my hope alive. I can’t fall into despair. I have to think of my baby.

When I’m not meditating, I sketch pictures of Joshua to calm my nerves. I draw his hands, large and strong. Joshua has beautiful hands with short fingernails and the lightest dusting of hair on the back…

Or I’ll sketch his dark hair, his square forehead, his brow dropped low over his light gray eyes. If I take my time and do it right, it feels like he’s looking at me, and my heart squeezes. His expression heats my eyes, and I trace my finger along his cheekbone. I miss him so much. I promise his drawing I’ll never make him wonder.

I’ll never leave again.

Once, I decided to try sketching a little girl with his eyes. I softened the shading on her baby cheeks, her rosebud lips, and I added her daddy’s smile… I’m starting on her halo of blonde hair when a tear hits the page.

I’m dreaming again, praying I’ll live to see her.

Praying in spite of all I’ve done, I might get another chance.

The loud slap of the bolt unlocking startles me. I don’t know what time it is, but it feels too early for Sheryl to visit. I’m not hungry yet…

I lower the sketchpad as the sticky door shimmies and finally blasts open with a loud noise.

“Fucking door,” Sheryl growls, looking around the frame. “It must swell with the humidity.”

She’s dressed all in black, and her dark hair is in a high ponytail. A butterfly tattoo is on the back of her neck. Her hands are empty, no food, nothing.

I’m confused. “What’s going on?”

She enters the small room and puts her hands on her hips. “I just wanted to check on you. See how you’re doing down here.”

“Going crazy as usual… Trying to distract myself.”

She nods, walking around the small space. “It’s tough… I thought you might like to know… something is happening.”

I swallow the tightness in my throat. “What does that mean?”

She shrugs. “My eyes outside have picked up movement. We might not see each other again.”

A tremor is in my stomach. I’m not sure if it’s happiness or dread. “Is Renee going to kill me?”

“I don’t know.” She takes a step to the side and crosses her arms as she studies the concrete. “She doesn’t tell me her plans.”

“I thought you were her girl.”

“Renee’s a meal ticket. A means to an end. I just follow the money.”

“So you’re a mercenary?”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing.” She tosses me a smile, but it doesn’t encourage me. Mercenaries are only loyal to themselves. “Anyway, I might have found what you wanted. The intel on your mother.”

Pushing against the floor, I stand on my still-bare feet. “Okay…”

“I found something about a girl who came to the city from somewhere in Tennessee. Some little small town near Memphis. I couldn’t find a reason why she moved here, but Gavin Hudson pimped her out several times. After a while, she went off the radar, disappeared. It all happened about the time you showed up, when someone named Lara took you in.”

My heart had initially beaten faster with every word, but the more she speaks, the more I realize it’s not my story she’s telling.

“Thank you for that.” I don’t have the heart to tell her she just described our friend Evie’s background. I’m pretty sure the tale she recited has nothing to do with my mother.

“No problem. I was bored with waiting, and I figured I’d want to know if it were me.”

Glancing up, I frown at her. “Why are you helping me? What are you getting out of it?”

The slightest grin curls her lips, and she tilts her head side to side. “I have my reasons.”

“Care to share?”

She stops pacing and faces me. “Have you ever seen the movie The Princess Bride?”

I nod. “Everybody has.”

“I don’t know about everybody, but do you remember the part where Wesley, the farm boy turned pirate, is taken to the Pit of Despair?” Again, I nod. “He asks The Albino why they’re taking care of him, and The Albino says it’s because Count Rugen likes his opponents to be cured before he breaks them.”

“You’ve watched that movie a lot,” I quip. “So you’re the six-fingered man? You’re keeping me well so you can break me? I’d like to see you try, bitch.”

Shooter’s chin lifts matching my cocky attitude with her own. “I did just fine in your hotel room.”

“You did nothing in my hotel room. I didn’t fight you because I didn’t want to risk getting shot.”

“But you admit I could’ve shot you.” Her expression is smug.

My eyes narrow. “Not at all. Gun fights are unpredictable. Anything could happen, and I wasn’t prepared to risk it with a baby onboard. I’ll be glad to have a rematch once I’m sure my baby is safe.”

She laughs. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

All my recent prayers and promises hit me in the stomach, and I shake my head. “No… if I get out of here, I’m retired. I’m not doing this anymore. I want a different life.”

“But you’re a killer.”

“I’m a mother.” Sliding down the wall, I sit on the floor with my legs bent. “I’ve laid my weapons down.”

The sketchpad is beside me on the floor with my baby’s innocent face staring at me. I trace a finger down her cheek, thinking when Shooter breaks the silence.

“So maybe I’ll see you again on the deep web. A battle of wits is more my speed when it comes to you.”

“What do you mean?”

We’re interrupted by rapid popping noises from upstairs. We both instinctively duck at the sound of gunfire, and she holds up a finger in a quiet motion. “I’ll see what’s happening.”

She’s out the door, slamming it shut behind her, and I’m left looking at the empty space where she stood, waiting for the noise of the bolt to latch.

It never happens.

Another sharp pop sounds, and I’m on my feet, running to the door. My heart thuds in my chest, and I hesitate. I have no idea what’s out there. Cave Man could be waiting to shove me back in here by my face—or worse.

It’s a chance I’ve got to take. I won’t be forgotten in this tomb. Grabbing the handle, I jerk it open. It unsticks with a loud blast, and I look out. No one is there. Voices echo from above, and I realize they must all be on the first floor dealing with whatever is happening.

Carefully, I creep across the larger basement room to the foot of the gold-carpeted stairs. The door at the top is closed, but I can’t just run out there unarmed. Looking around, I don’t see anything to use as a weapon, and even though I’m not a shooter, for the millionth time, I wish I had my little gun. It’s locked in the safe in my hotel room along with my necklace.

My pulse is racing, and I reach for the handle.

I turn it slowly and give it the slightest push…

It doesn’t budge.

“No!” I whisper-cry, trying again.

I give it another push, and it’s locked.

“Fuck,” I hiss, looking all around the cracks.

I see an old-fashioned little sliding bolt thingie holding the door shut. If I had a coat hanger, I’d have it open in ten seconds. I’m about to dash down the stairs and search for one, when I hear a voice that stops my heart.

“I’m not leaving without her.” It’s Joshua!

I want to cry. I want to scream to him I’m down here!

Just as fast, my stomach plunges. Renee has a gun, and she’s a career criminal. Joshua is not. I’ve got to get out there and help him. I run down the stairs into the larger room and search. Oh, thank the baby Jesus in heaven and all the angels! I spot a wire hanger.

Snatching it up, I dash up the gross, sticky gold-carpeted stairs again, untwisting it and straightening it out. I form a small hook on one end and wedge it through the crack in the door, fiddling with the lock. I’m moving too fast. My hands tremble, and the metal hook slips off the bolt.

“Come on,” I whisper taking deep breaths, steadying my nerves.

I try again… and I hear Renee speaking. “Stas Volodya. I’ve been waiting for you.”

I freeze, eyes wide as I look up through the crack. I’m at an angle where I can’t see a thing, but I can hear their voices bouncing off the stone floor and walls.

“Once again you’re standing between me and what I want.” My old mentor’s voice is calm and focused. It makes me smile.

“What you want? Oh, right. You want to know what happened to your precious wife and child.” Her voice is sarcastic.

Fuck you, Renee.

“Where are they?” Stas’s voice is a low growl.

“Maybe they’re back in Russia. Maybe they’re living it up on a Caribbean island. Maybe they’re at the bottom of the Mississippi River. I don’t know, and I don’t give a shit.”

Mark’s voice comes next, and I sit back on the top step. Mark is here? “You inherited your father’s computer, all his files. I think you know more than you claim.”

“Go to a judge and get a search warrant. I’m not giving you anything, pig.”

Stas’s voice rises in volume. “Your father was a cheating, lying river rat…”

The hook catches on the latch, and I slide it apart. The door falls open with a loud squeak, and I fall out onto the stone floor. Shit!

“Molly!” Joshua starts for me, but another loud pop stops him.

I’m jerked off my feet by a meaty hand I recognize. Cave Man has me, and he starts for the basement when Renee stops him. “No! Bring her to me.”

I’m roughly dragged across the kitchen where I quickly take in what’s happening. Renee has a gun pointed at Joshua, who is closest to the basement with his hands raised. Stas and Mark have their backs to the front door facing Renee, and Stas’s small pistol is in his hand.

Renee turns the gun she had pointed on Joshua to me, shoving it hard under my chin. My teeth clench, and I close my eyes.

“Wait!” Joshua shouts. The panic in his voice squeezes my heart. “We’ll give you what you want. Just let me have her.”

“Isn’t that adorable?” Renee’s sarcastic voice is right in my ear.

Hate burns in my veins as she jerks my head by the back of my hair, shoving the gun harder against my jaw. My arms are pinned by the massive man at my back. Air explodes through my lips and nose, and I manage to grit out a Fuck you.

Her dark eyes slide my way only briefly. “Fuck you, too, bitch.”

“You assholes have five seconds to tell me who killed my father or I blow her head off. Five, four, three, two—”

My eyes squeeze shut as my heart pounds in my chest. I’m breathing so fast, and I try to clear my mind. If this is the end, I want to be ready.

“I did it.” The confession is loud, and my eyes fly open.

“I did it,” they say again, and I realize both Mark and Stas are speaking.

They look at each other confused.

“You think this is a game?” Renee’s fists my hair, jerking my head to the side and jamming the gun so hard against my neck, I let out an involuntary cry.

Mark speaks fast. “I went to his house in Algiers. I met with him… I was trying to get his files, the video he has of my wife, and he pulled a gun on me. I was hit, but I know I shot him. I went back and saw the blood—”

“When was this?” Stas lowers his weapon and faces Mark. “I was at his house in Algiers. He wanted money in exchange for information, and I shot him.”

“Stop this bullshit!” Renee screams. “I’ll kill you all!”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Joshua lowering slowly. He does something to his pants, and I catch a flash of pink.

“Molly, drop!” he shouts, and I go limp, bending my knees so fast, Cave Man’s grip slips.

I hit the floor just as the popping of two guns sounds. Renee hits the floor, and I scramble away from her body. One black dot is in the center of her forehead and another is in the side of her neck. Another pop and Cave Man goes down. He’s shouting and groaning, and I see his injury is in his shoulder. Blood is everywhere, and I’m crawling away when I’m scooped off my feet into Joshua’s strong arms.

“Fuck, I thought I’d never see you again.” He breathes into the side of my hair and I throw my arms around his neck, lifting my feet off the floor.

“Joshua!” My voice breaks.

His hands are under my butt, and I’m holding him, joy vibrating electric in my veins. It’s so good. He’s so good. I kiss the skin of his neck, breathing in his scent.

“Oh, Joshua,” I whisper. Adrenaline is the only thing keeping me from crying like a baby.

Mark rushes toward the bodies when Shooter’s voice shouts loud and clear, “Get out of here now.”

He starts to argue. “But, I should—”

She steps between Mark and the bodies. “You should go back to your wife and daughter. I’ll clean up this mess.”

My cold body is pressed against Joshua’s warm one, and I look from him to her. “You both shot her.”

“Come.” Stas speaks in a low, firm voice. “It will take us ten minutes to drive to your home. We’ll report it from there.”

Shooter nods, and Mark looks pained. Still, he backs away, going to the door. Joshua lowers me to my feet, taking my hand as I follow him out. I take one step on the gravel walk and let out a little cry.

“Come here.” Relief, joy, love are all mixed together in his low voice. “Hop on my back.”

I gladly jump up, wrapping my legs around his waist and my arms around his shoulders. I bury my nose in his neck and inhale another deep breath of juniper and citrus.

Warmth ripples from my beating heart to the tips of my toes, and I hug him closer.

It’s so good to be home.