My blood boils as I rush through traffic minutes away from the hospital in my 2001 Oldsmobile. I grabbed my junker to be nondescript since this Nick guy seems apparently to be the mastermind of all evil villians, in spite of how desperate he appears in person.

My grip on the steering wheel is iron tight.

The motherfucker.

I said I’d kill him and I will.

Pulling up to a red light, I tap the glove compartment. I’ve got my SigSauer in there.

It’s loaded. That’s not legal. Not like I give a fuck about the legalities of the whole thing right now.

Fuck it. I take it out and put the thing on my car’s passenger seat.

I’ve been in a scuffle or two over the years. Nothing like what this has the potential to be. Knowing what Nick’s done to Krista, I might just explode on him. Maybe it’s my dark side coming out to play. Maybe I’m not totally over my sister’s death. I’ve got issues a psychologist would probably take years to uncover. But I still wouldn’t pull anything close to the pathological shit Nick is apparently capable of.

I squeeze the steering wheel and grind my teeth as the left turn signal light turns green.

A black grey Ford speeds in front of me.

I’m about to swear out loud when the street lamp’s light flashes just so on the driver and I recognize him.

Nick.

Holy shit.

My heart starts to thump so loud it’s like a tribal drum beating under my jacket. The car behind me honks, and I impulsively turn right, after Nick.

I’m gonna take this son of a bitch down right fucking now.

I follow two cars behind him, adrenaline pumping through me. Never in my life have I been so alert. Every second that passes feels like a minute, all my senses on hyperdrive.

The inside of the car is cool but my skin feels hot and tingly. I turn the music off to concentrate on following the son of a bitch.

He weaves through a couple of cars but I don’t lose him, and we end up on the west side in a semi-shady area of the city, Humboldt Park. Nick pulls off to a side street, and I follow him about ten car lengths behind.

I glance down at my gun, and he pulls over to the side of the road. I do the same, a few car lengths behind him now, and a couple of cars in between us. I shut down my lights. I uncheck the safety on the gun. Make a fucking move, motherfucker. You tried to kill Krista, prepare to die.

My palm sweats against the heavy metal. I roll down my window, the car still running, squinting for aim.

Time to die, you piece of shit.

“Better put that gun down.”

A shock runs through me at the grizzled voice behind me.

“I said, fucking drop it.”

I let go of the weapon, letting it fall to the concrete, and turn to meet the face of none other than Nick. His face is stressed and frowning as he steps toward me, gun pointed at me. My blood runs cold. As crazy as Nick is, apparently he’s still got the capacity for a calculated attack. Which is as scary as it is shocking.

“Hands up. Get out of the car. You’re coming with me.”

I say nothing, stepping out of the car as Nick points his gun at me. I search in vain for a point of entry to take Nick down, but he keeps two arm’s lengths away as he guides me to his car, where he’s got a driver waiting.

“Backseat,” he says. “Open the door and get in.

I do as he says. Nick gets in and closes the door, never wavering from pointing the gun at me.

The driver starts off down the road.

“Where are you taking me?” I ask, trying to keep my cool.

His frown turns into the slightest of evil smiles.

“Oh, we’re going to a place I’m sure you’ve heard of. It’s called Midnight Ride.”

I swallow hard. “Midnight fucking ride.”

“That’s right. And put these on behind your back.”

He flings a pair of handcuffs at me.

Reluctantly I do as I’m told.

Twenty minutes or so later we pull up to the back entrance of the club. Over the years, Midnight Ride has had a mix of mobsters, sex workers, drug runners, and other shady characters coming in and out and utilizing the back entrance for various reasons.

Hell, I used to use it not to get mobbed or hit on by the girls who were in the shows I was doing.

But as Nick waves for me to get out of the car, a very bad feeling settles in my gut.

A doorman I’ve never seen before opens the back door for us, and we’re not seen by a soul. It’s just Nick and me as he ushers us into the back room, and my heart hammers hard in my chest when I see the numbers above the room we walk into.

Room B296

Such an innocuous name for such a symbolic, infamous room. As we walk in, I’m reminded of its utility. It’s the viewing side of a double-sided mirror. In earlier times at the club, it was used for high-rolling guests to pay a mint to watch a stripper with a client, in an unsuspecting voyeur-type sex show. Hey, I don’t judge. I was mostly on the other side of the glass. Some of our other, shadier clients used the room to view their “interogated” clients, aka women would seduce men into giving up secrets in the throes of passion. Then an enforcer would head in and interrupt their sex session mobster style.

So as Nick points to one of two steel chairs in the mostly empty room, I’m wondering why he’s chosen this room and location.

“Sit,” he says without emotion, nodding in the direction of the chair.

“I can stand.”

“I said sit, you piece of shit.”

I stare at Nick blankly. Adrenaline pumps through me, and I feel as though I’ve got the strength of ten men.

“Why don’t you fucking make me?”

“All right.” He whacks me across the face with the butt of the gun, knocking me down.

“That’s all you’ve got?”

Whack again, across my face.

My head burns from the hit and I fall to one knee.”

“And stay the fuck down.”

“Why are you doing this Nick?” I gut out, as I spit up blood. “And why Midnight Ride?”

“Who the fuck cares? It’s no business to you.”

“You’re going to kill me, right?” I say from a knee.

“Yes,” he says, grabbing me by the hair and flinging me at the chair.

I spit on ground again as I slide onto the seat, reluctantly.

“So what the fuck does it matter if you tell me? I’m curious. I just want to know, man to man, how we got to this point. Come on Nick, grant a dying man one more wish.”

Nick paces back and forth in front of me with the gun. “Oh, your phone,” he says and I see my phone fall out of my pocket and slide onto the floor.

He slides the phone to the other side of the room with his foot, cautiously.

I stare at him unwaveringly. We both know if I have even a tiny opening I’m going to snag it.

The question is, why is he letting me live?

“Nick,” I say firmly. “Tell me why I’m still alive.”

“Your code. Tell me the code to your phone.”

“I don’t know what kind of fucked-up shit you have planned, but I’m not going to tell you. You’ll have to blast my brains out and get the code from my brain matter, how about that?”

My chest tightens at the words that come out of me, but it’s true. Who knows what he’d do. Text Krista. Text Axel to come here. Some other fucked-up shit. I can’t take that chance.

His frown turns into a smile, and he starts laughing manaically. It’s a horrendous, high-pitched sound.

He walks up to me, and, smirking, he slides his finger around to form the correct pattern, and my phone home screen appears.

Recently changed to a hot-as-fuck picture I took of Krista when we were out at the beach on the last day.

“Great picture by the way. She does look hot in a bikini.”

My face muscles strain with anger, and my wrists tense up against the steel of the cuffs. I stand up but Nick takes a step back and points the gun at me again.

“Sit the fuck back down, you animal. What, you didn’t think I was smart enough to tap your phone? You’re surprised I already knew the code? Just fucking like you. You and everyone in my fucking life!”

He throws an open hand palm against my face, and I don’t even give a shit anymore about the pain.

Even in these cuffs, if he didn’t have a gun, I’d be attacking him right now.

Instead, I’m helpless.

Well maybe not totally. But the odds are stacked against me here. I know several ways to kill a man with my bare hands, but a crazy drug addict with a gun is a wild card.

I give myself a fifty-fifty chance to win this battle, once I start it. But even then, I’ve still got a chance.

Nick types on the phone as I sit up again on the chair. He reads out loud: “Hey baby, it’s me. I have a really special surprise for you tonight. Come into the back room at Midnight Ride—You know, the entrance on 11th street. My friend will open the door for you. And please, don’t tell anyone. This is a super secret. Can’t wait to see you babe, xo.”

“Don’t fucking send that,” I growl.

“And...sent. See Damien, the thing about Krista is she’s a good, trusting girl with those she loves. You’ve really lucked out. Of course, she never loved me like she loves you, I’m sure of that.”

I clench my teeth and take deep breaths, almost ready to burst. To fucking hell with it. I won’t let Krista be lured into a trap she thinks I set for her. Nick nonchalantly keeps the gun pointed at me as he continues talking.

“You asked why I’m doing this. How do you think it feels to be me, Damien? How do you think it feels to be number two? Since Krista and I broke up, I vowed I’d get her back. I’ve tried everything. She’s the girl for me. I’m going to have her back, and I don’t care what I have to do to get her. She’s perfect in every way, and I need her. But—yes, there’s a big but. She doesn’t love me like I love her. She never has.”

“Fuck you, you don’t know shit,” I growl.

“Oh? I don’t? How do you think it feels to be me? I’ve followed you closely, I’ve followed all of her relationships after me. I’ve tapped her phone, I’ve read every message. I can’t do what you do, Damien. I can’t fuck her as good as you can. Did you know she never even came with me? Ha! Not once. And then you come into the picture, and in one night, one fucking night!”

I’m a ball of tension, rage, and fire, set to explode.

But through the haze I’m finally starting to understand Nick’s incredible inferiority complex. “You’ve tracked...every relationship she’s had?”

“Yes. Every one. Usually, the guys are easy to deter. One whiff of a weird ex-boyfriend like me, and they stay the fuck away. You, however...you didn’t fade away. Quite the contrary. You swept in harder. You took your time. You teased her and even refused to have sex with her for ten dates.”

“You fucking know about that…” I start the phrase as a question, but halfway through, all of the pieces of the puzzle make sense. Nick had literally technologically tapped into our phones, and there was no telling all of the information he’d seen or recorded. He probably got off on knowing all of the intimate details we talked about.

Maybe even saw us have sex.

“Fuck you,” I say, launching a loogie that makes it onto Nick’s shoe. “You should have grown the fuck up and found another girl. Moved on. But now—” I swallow.

“Now what?” he half-laughs, throwing his hands up toward the ceiling. “What the fuck are you going to do about it?”

Maybe Nick’s insanity transfers to me. Who knows.

But I let out the howl of a wolf as I charge toward him, bull rushing him as he brings the gun down.

“Stop! Stay there!” he yells.

But I don’t care anymore. Can’t care.

This is my one shot to save Krista from the same fate, and I’ll be damned if I don’t go down swinging.

Nick’s eyes are wide, probably shocked I’m bullrushing him head first, with my hands handcuffed behind my back.

Figures. He wouldn’t die for Krista—which is why he’s so fucking shocked.

I would.

His dumb face is the last thing I remember before the shot rings out.