Chapter Twenty-Eight:
Giving Up
When I awoke, I was lying between the wall and the floor with my limbs flailed in all directions. I struggled into a seated position; my face was pulsating with pain. I brushed my fingers against it and felt the dried blood under my nose, and a hardening fist-sized sphere of heat took up most of my cheek. There was something salty, blood, against my teeth. I was otherwise intact—and immensely grateful for it. I had escaped Victor, but for how long? I crawled back into my defensive ball and rested my aching head on my knees, crying, sobbing.
The tears hadn’t long dried up by the time Mickey slid my tray of food over to me with his foot. I didn’t look up, and he didn’t ask how I was. We had an unspoken understanding. He closed the door and left me alone again.
This time my meal consisted of processed cheese slapped between two pieces of bread and two juice boxes. I had gone up in the world. I got to my feet and started pacing about the room, drinking my juice box. I stopped in front of the door; ridiculously hopeless, I tried the doorknob … because you never know.
“Don’t even think about it, girl,” a cold voice from the other side answered my attempt. “The door is locked, and I’m right here waiting for you if it isn’t.”
I decided to break the code of silence. “Mickey, is that you?” I whispered.
I heard him shifting about but no answer.
“Mickey, you need to help me get out of here. He’s going to kill me.” I added after another silent lapse, “There’s a lot of money attached to it if you help me escape.”
“Eat your food and shut up,” Mickey finally answered.
I had no allies here. I finished my juice box, picked at the bread, and sat on the bed, listening for my maker’s footsteps.
I didn’t have to wait too long. A fresh-faced, clean-shaven Victor walked through the door and sat on the bed.
“Feeling better now?” he asked.
I glared.
He glanced over my face. What he found made him shake his head disapprovingly at me. “I wouldn’t have had to do that if you had behaved.”
Nothing but silence from me. Victor continued his monologue.
“I brought you some clean clothes. You can have a shower too. Would you like that?”
I didn’t want anything that he would give me, but I also needed to buy some time. I nodded—and cringed when I saw that my concurrence had pleased him.
Mickey escorted me back to the men’s washroom. I had noticed him slightly wincing as he peered at my face when I had first walked out of the room. I wondered if I would be able to use this, his humanity, to my advantage.
One of the stalls had been converted into a shower; though, from the look of the yellowed floor tile, it seemed that it was also used as an extra urinal. While Mickey stood on the other side of the stall, I got undressed and hung my clothes over the door. I turned on the water, as hot as it would go, and stood under a lukewarm shower. In less than a minute, the water started getting cold.
When I turned around, I saw a pink sundress hanging next to the dirty clothes that I had thrown over the door. I grumbled, grabbing my black frock. Mickey chuckled when I walked out.
“Pink is not your color, eh?”
I ignored him and stood by the sink.
A knock on the door brought one of the guards into the washroom. He handed a bag of ice to Mickey; Mickey handed it to me.
“It’ll make the swelling go down,” he told me.
I glared at him, took the pittance, marched to the shower, emptied the bag on the tiled floor and handed him the empty bag. I spun on my heels and walked myself back to my cell, slamming the door behind me. The cold shower had re-energized me, and I sat on the mattress, determined to plot my revenge or my escape, whichever would come first. But, as I heard the door click locked after Mickey had caught up with me, I knew I had nothing else. So I waited for Victor and readied my attack.
Hours seemed to roll by in this cardboard box of a room, and Victor never came. The warehouse went deadly quiet. Perhaps it was nighttime now. Eventually, I turned off the swinging lightbulb, crawled down the bed, fell asleep and rebooted. There were no nightmares while I slept—I was already in one.
Victor was staring at me in the dark the next time I awoke. I shot up and curled my body to the wall, as far away from him as I could. In the shadows, Victor smiled his sickly smile and moved to the bed, sitting next me.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. I felt his hand graze my hair, pushing it away from my face, like Cameron had lovingly done before him. I was tired of crying, of playing weak. Tears fell anyway.
Victor shushed me. “Lie down.”
I didn’t move. Hypnotized by my fear.
“Lie down,” he shouted. I yelped with fright.
With every muscle of my body shaking, I laid on my back. Victor got up and pulled on the string of the light. I closed my eyes as the light came on. The tears had already soaked the pillow by the time Victor had climbed on top of me. He started to kiss me and didn’t care this time that I wasn’t kissing back. His breath smelled like alcohol or mouthwash. I couldn’t tell the difference. Whatever it was, it made me sick to my stomach.
His kisses became more forceful, and his hands more aggressive. I started to struggle. He grabbed my wrists and with one hand held them over my head. I started kicking and screaming. He put his hand over my mouth and held me down with the weight of his body.
“If you don’t behave, I’ll have you serve your time in one of my whorehouses. Or maybe I’ll just kill you. I don’t need you to be alive to make that boy lose control.” He stared me down. “Now, will you behave?”
I nodded yes. As soon as he let go of my mouth, I spat in his face. “Go ahead and kill me then, because I will never do what you want me to do. I won’t betray him no matter what you do to me.”
He slapped me across my already bruised cheek. Tears of pain leaked out of my eyes. I winced, but I had stopped crying. I continued to try to wiggle away from him, but this only seemed to egg him on. His breaths became excited. He started fumbling with his belt buckle; I started kicking and screaming as hard as I could. I managed to unclench one of my hands and scratched his face. He screamed in anger and in pain and slapped me across the face again. The door burst open. Victor looked up. I used his momentary distraction to struggle away from him and run to cower into a corner of the room.
Mickey was in the doorway.
“I said to stay away,” Victor screamed at him.
Mickey quickly eyed me and turned to Victor. “I’m sorry, sir. I heard you scream. I thought—”
“You thought nothing. Get out of here and don’t come back in!”
Mickey eyed me again. “Sir, there’s someone here to see you.”
I heard short footsteps, and a man I recognized as Rocco’s killer walked through the door. It took everything I had not to jump at Norestrom’s throat to choke him. But, from the battered look of his face, it looked like someone had already beaten me to it. One of his eyes was swollen shut, his nose was bloody and crooked, and he was missing several teeth.
“What happened to you?” Victor asked him.
Norestrom turned all of his attention to Victor. “I got caught by one of Spider’s boys. They tried to beat the location out of me. But I didn’t tell them a thing and escaped before they could kill me.”
Victor half-smiled and absentmindedly said, as he glanced back at me, “Well, it’s good to have you back, son. We’ll need you around for the takeover. Go get cleaned up and make sure that the young lady and I get our privacy.”
“Sure, Shield.” Norestrom had a smug look on his face as he turned to soldier-man. “Think you can manage to follow those orders, Mickey, or do I have to draw you a picture?”
Mickey looked furious, but nodded his head in obedience. The men walked out and locked the door behind them. They gave us our privacy. Victor immediately stood up and swaggered toward me like he had already won. I got up and met him with my fists up. I threw a punch that fanned him. He found this hilarious.
“You and your brother have always been fighters. I never understood what you were so angry about. Bill, I guess, had reason to be upset, what with your father leaving my sister like that. Can’t blame your father though. Your mother was quite the catch.” He laughed again. “Poor Billy. He came to me, thinking he would find an ally against his father. But my sister was nothing but a weak-minded woman. I was ashamed of being related to her. She didn’t deserve to have her honor defended by me or Bill.”
Victor pulled my fists down and brought his smiling face to mine. “Are you still a virgin?”
“No. Cameron already took care of that,” I said spitefully.
His smile was gone. This gave me little comfort. He grabbed me by the shoulders and dragged me to the bed while my limbs flailed in dead air. He quickly resumed his position on top of me and proceeded to fumble with his belt buckle. I thrashed about while he loosened his pants and I wished that I would have found pants to wear instead of a skirt for the funeral—at least it would have delayed him a bit more. As Victor struggled with me and his pants, I felt something cold fall close to my thigh. Suddenly, everything changed for me. I grew calmer and stopped struggling, which mildly pleased Victor.
“There. Now that’s more like it,” he said softly. His grasp on my hands loosened as he took advantage of my change in humor to pull the rest of his pants down. I pulled my hand free and grabbed the revolver that had slid next to my thigh. I brought it to his head.
With the feel of a cold barrel against his skull, I had Victor’s full and undivided attention. But he just laughed.
“You even know how to use that thing?” he teased.
I pulled back the lever, removed any doubt. He flinched when it clicked next to his skin. His eyes grew as big as the bottom of a shot glass.
“Get off me,” I ordered.
He clumsily rolled off the bed and stood in front of me in his underwear with his arms up and his pants around his ankles.
“Just relax,” he said fanning his hands. “Don’t do anything foolish. One scream from me and twenty guards will be running in here.”
“And you’ll be dead,” I added. I got up and demanded that he turn around. I placed the gun against the back of his head and made him walk to the door. He was a lot taller than me, so I had to stretch on my tiptoes to keep the gun pressed at his head while he walked. We got to the door, and, not trusting him to give the right signal, I reached my free hand around him to knock on the door, three times. After a few seconds, I heard someone fumble with the lock and open the door.
Mickey reached for his gun as he saw Victor with his hands laced behind his head and me peering behind him.
“Don’t even think about it. You touch that thing and your boss is dead,” I yelled, surprised by the force of my own voice. I was completely calm. I told him to slowly remove his gun from its holster using his opposite hand—I saw this in a movie once—and hand it to me. Mickey kind of chuckled as he followed my orders. Equipped with two guns, I ordered Mickey to walk ahead of us with his hands up. Victor was hopping and tripping over his downed pants, and I followed him.
With the two large men in front of me, I couldn’t see anything ahead. I looked at the floor and saw that we had reached the end of the carpet and the hall into the warehouse.
I heard hushed voices as we walked out.
“What’s going on here?” Victor exclaimed.
I tried to peek around him, but Mickey was blocking my view.
“Mickey, get down. I can’t see anything,” I whined. I then remembered that I was the one who was holding the guns.
Mickey chuckled and got down on his knees with his fingers still behind his head. Victor did the same, without my order. The view finally opened up, and my knees almost buckled under me. I was trying to confirm what I thought I had seen, but my vision was being blurred with tears. I couldn’t wipe the tears away because my trembling hands were still holding onto the two revolvers.
“Emmy!” I heard Cameron say with exasperation. I didn’t need to see that it was indeed him.
I heard hurried footsteps and through the blanket of my tears saw Mickey and Victor being brought down to the ground by a group of large figures. I couldn’t move beyond the uncontrollable trembling of my hands. My legs were as stiff as a board now, and my head was swimming.
I was still pointing the guns ahead of me, at Cameron’s guards who were cowering away from my trembling aim as they tried to drag Mickey and Victor off. But I was looking at Cameron, who was standing next to me.
“We got them. It’s okay,” he said softly in my ear as he tugged my arms down and took the weapons away from me. He wrapped me in his arms, and I started weeping. I was bringing my hands to my eyes, trying to keep up with the tears so that I could see his face.
He was joyfully, and at the same time sadly, laughing in my ear. “I came to save you, but I guess you didn’t need me to save you after all.”
I wanted to tell him that I did need him, always, but nothing but tears came out. I gave up trying and brought my face to his and pressed my lips against his, grimacing when his lips brushed the cut on my mouth. Cameron pulled me away and glanced over my face, passing his hand over my lip and bruised cheek. His faint smile was replaced with anger.
“Did Shield do this to you?” he shouted, shooting his arm straight out and pointing at Victor, who was on the floor face down. Suddenly Cameron noticed the pants around Shield’s ankles. His face went pale. “Jesus, did he—”
“He hit me. That’s it. I got to him before …” I couldn’t finish. Before what? The could-have-been was too hard for me to admit.
Cameron was enraged. He lunged for Victor, spinning him around, mounting him, and punching him in the face, over and over again. Victor cowered in a ball, covering his bloodied face with his hands. Spider came running up behind them, yelling.
“Cameron, stop! You’re going to kill him!”
“Good!” Cameron yelled back.
With Spider’s order, the guards pulled Cameron off of Victor. It took four of them to finally manage to get him away from Victor. Spider made the guards drag Victor away from Cameron’s sight, while a seething Cameron watched from the sideline. I rushed to him and threw my arms around his neck. I whispered that I was fine over and over while I held on.
He calmed down after a while and crushed me in his arms.
“How did you find me?” I asked, trying to wiggle out enough to look at him.
He smiled, almost to his eyes. There were bags entrenched under them. He looked twenty years older. “The guards caught Norestrom a couple days before Rocco’s funeral. We were going to sell him back in pieces to Shield for what he did to my brother, but when you went missing, I tried to beat the location out of him … before we killed him. He wouldn’t talk fast enough. I let him escape, knowing that he would be stupid enough to come find Shield and lead us to you.”
His eyes were locked on mine, but mine started tearing up again. “Cameron, I didn’t mean to abandon you at the church. Uncle Victor convinced me to go with him. They started shooting outside. The window exploded. I thought—”
“One of Shield’s men shot at the church window when he heard you warn me through the radio. They weren’t shooting at us. They couldn’t. If they killed us in an ambush like that, the leaders would have hunted all of them down. It took us a little while to figure out that they were shooting at anything but us. They were warning Shield. I should have known it was a trap and never left you. I completely screwed up.”
He held me, and then pushed me away, holding my shoulders in his hands. “I had no idea Shield was your uncle. If I did, I would have warned you.”
“He was my brother’s uncle.” I really didn’t feel like explaining my family’s history at that particular time, but Cameron didn’t push for more.
“That explains a lot, like where Bill got all his ideas from and his extreme dislike for Shield,” he said. “Though, I wished Bill would have told me.”
I smiled up at him, and he gently kissed me, on the good side of my mouth.
When we turned around, the warehouse was practically empty, except for Spider and Tiny, who were standing by Victor. Tiny was holding Victor up by the shoulders while Spider was waving his finger at Victor and speaking to him with a low voice. Victor looked terrified.
We made our way toward them. Victor glared at me, and I glared back.
“Let him go,” Spider, who had his back to us, said to Tiny.
“What?” Cameron yelled out. “Tiny, keep hold of him.”
Tiny held onto Victor and looked confusedly from Spider to Cameron.
“We’re letting him go, Cameron,” Spider said as he turned on his heels to face us.
“After everything he’s done? No, he’s a dead man.”
“We’re letting him go, Cameron,” Spider repeated with more force.
Cameron dragged Spider away from us, and, in arguing whispers, they decided Victor’s fate. I watched Cameron’s face turn ashen in the midst of their argument. After a while, Spider was doing all the talking, and Cameron was listening with his head bent in defeat.
“Let him go,” Cameron said dejectedly to Tiny when they had returned. He was blanched. I swallowed hard.
Tiny held onto Victor for a few seconds, to see if Cameron was going to change his mind. When he didn’t, Tiny let Victor go. Victor’s knees buckled under him as he fell back to the ground, and he rushed out of the warehouse. Spider meaningfully glanced at me and Cameron, and then he walked out with Tiny at his side.
“Why are you letting him go?” I wondered accusingly as I turned to Cameron. What I saw in Cameron scared me more than anything Shield could have ever done to me … tears had welled up in Cameron’s eyes.
“Cameron …” I had lost my breath.
He grabbed me in a hug and whispered, “Emmy, you need to run. Now.”
I pushed him away. “What? No. I’m not going anywhere without you.”
He was in agony. Pain had carved deep fissures in his forehead.
“Tell me what’s going on. Right now,” I demanded and bit my lip, trying not to cry, trying to fight the dread that was swarming in.
“Please,” he begged, “you need to go. Don’t look back. I love you.”
I took a step toward him, my arms reaching out. He stepped back and turned his face away from me.
“Cameron, don’t. You’re scaring me.” I wasn’t just scared; I was petrified. “Tell me what’s going on. Please.” I lunged into his arms before he could react and latched my arms around his neck. I heard him sigh, and he held me for a few seconds. Footsteps came from behind us. He unhooked my arms and pushed me away. I followed his frightened gaze. Spider and Tiny were standing a few feet away.
Spider had his gun pointed at us.
“What’s going on?” I asked, my voice shaking with the rest of my body.
Spider was staring coldly at Cameron. “You said your goodbyes, now we finish this.”
Cameron turned to Tiny. “Get her out of here.”
Tiny nodded and started walking toward me.
I pleaded to Spider. “Please don’t do this, Spider. We’ll leave. You can have it all, and you’ll never have to see us again. You don’t need to do this. Please …”
Spider kept his eyes on Cameron. Tiny came to grab me from behind and started to drag me away.
I screamed through my tears at Cameron. “Cameron, do something! Don’t let them do this. Please.”
Cameron glanced at me with eyes of pain, and then he took a breath, his jaw tightened and he looked away. His face became expertly unaffected as he stared back at Spider’s gun, waiting. I was in a nightmare. I needed to wake up. But the throbbing in my chest was too real for this to be a dream.
By the time Tiny had dragged me to the door while I kicked and screamed, the first shot rang out. I watched in horror as Cameron fell to the ground. Tiny had jumped too and momentarily let go of me.
I ran back to Cameron and crouched to the ground, putting myself between him and Spider’s gun. I looked down. The shoulder of Cameron’s shirt was already soaked through with blood. His eyes found me, but they were dulled. Life was sapping from him and dragging me with it.
“Get out of here, Emmy,” he said too calmly, like he didn’t feel the gushing wound in his shoulder.
“I won’t let him do this to you. I’m not leaving you. Why are you letting them do this?”
“I have no other choice,” he said. “It has to end this way.”
“I won’t say good-bye to you,” I resolved. “You can fight. Why aren’t you fighting?” I was furious that he was giving up so easily. “Don’t let him win, Cameron.”
I could feel him vanishing. I put my hand over his wound and turned his face, forcing him to acknowledge me. Tears were burning my cheeks.
“I love you,” I told him in a desperate whisper. My eyes homed in on his, but Cameron had squeezed his eyes shut. It, love, was no longer enough.
Cameron pulled my hands away and yelled, “Get her out of here!”
Tiny had come back and, this time, picked me up off the ground, threw me over his shoulder, and carried me out.
The last time I saw Cameron, he was staring at the ceiling and a tear had rolled out of the corner of his eye.
I was still screaming and crying uncontrollably when Tiny finally set me down. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and held onto me with one arm while I continued to fight him off.
“There’s nothing you can do, Emmy,” Carly’s shaking voice said. She had been standing next to us outside.
Three more gunshots successively fired from inside the warehouse and then all was quiet.
Carly put her hands to her face. I lost myself and fell to my knees.