Chapter Thirty-Four

Nina

When the silver Honda pulled up to Redhead, I tried to burst out of the backseat and make a run for it, but the ground was coated in a deep, fluffy layer of snow, and my sneakers dug mercilessly into my blisters from the night before. I couldn’t do it. I burst out, but then I hobbled and collapsed.

Laurence was on top of me in an instant, binding my arms behind my back and hoisting me into the air. I thrashed, but he was still too strong for me. Damn me for skipping the gym all winter!

“D-d-don’t b-be so pre-pre-predictable, N-Nina,” Will snapped at me, scooping my ankles and clasping them tightly under one arm. He was surprisingly strong, too. When did these men all get so strong? Were they hiding their strength from me all this time?

Probably, actually.

Lawrence and Will carried me up the stairwell, toward Dad’s office.

“Don’t get any ideas, now,” Laurence commanded Will. He sounded like he meant it. “This is my future wife here.”

“I’m g-gay, man,” Will replied evenly.

“If I’m your wife for one day of my life,” I swore up at Laurence, “I’ll be your widow the next day.”

Will laughed. “Oh, snap.”

“Shut up!” Laurence snarled. We reached the landing to the second floor and passed good old Uncle Marv, busily shredding documents. I didn’t say anything to him. There was nothing left to be said. “Hey, Hershel,” Laurence called to Marvin. “I left the keys in that Uber driver’s car. Why don’t you take a break and go get rid of it?”

“I wouldn’t call that ‘taking a break,’” Marvin muttered, but he set his documents down and stood the same.

“What happened to the driver?” I asked. “Did you kill him, Laurence?”

Laurence shrugged with one shoulder. “I don’t know.” His voice was casual and honest, like it was the weather he didn’t know about. Not whether he killed a man.

My heart chilled, and I lapsed into a depressed silence as they brought me up to the third level. We entered Dad’s office, me with two pairs of hands on me. They settled me into a chair and forced me to hold position while they wrapped my ankles and wrists to the chair with twine.

“Where’s Dad?” I demanded, trying to act like I was still the princess, even though I was also pretty tied-up at the moment. I held my chin high and refused to look like it.

“Precious Daddy is downtown at the police department, actually. You might’ve run into him if you’d gotten those files all the way there.” Laurence grinned over at Will, and they laughed together, sharing their private joke at my expense. I smoldered.

“What’s he doing over there?” I didn’t acknowledge how giddy and victorious they were acting. It didn’t scare me. These fuckers didn’t know Eli. The battle was beginning.

When they took me from him, they fucked up. I knew that he was coming. And he would bring all the strength of righteous fury with him.

“He needs to speak with the chief of police,” Lawrence answered coolly. He smirked over at Will again. “Let him know what’s going on, in case they get any leads in this direction for right now.”

My jaw clenched, and I exhaled, but not with hopelessness. With annoyance. “The police were in his hand the whole time.”

“Oh, eat-t-t-ing out of it,” Will agreed merrily.

“We never could’ve taken the files to them.”

Laurence beamed down at me and patted my head. “Nope. Now, you rest up, princess. We’ve got a long day ahead of us. You try to relax and have fun.”

Relax and have fun while tied to a chair.

Dad returned later in the day, but he didn’t have much to say to me. He was preoccupied with directing the continuous flow of Freaks through the headquarters, removing boxes and boxes of documentation and other forms of evidence. I didn’t understand why they were moving everything if the police would never act against them anyway, but they were. They were moving everything as soon as the wind changed, like Eli said they would.

The windows grew dark as the sun began to set. I watched the darkness fall. Where was Eli?

He wasn’t hurt. If he was hurt, Dad would’ve come to me and gloated immediately. He couldn’t be “right” about something and let it go. Eli hadn’t been hurt.

Which meant that he woke up in that motel bed. Which meant that he knew I was missing.

I kept my eyes glued to that window.

He was coming for me. I could feel it in my bones. He was coming.

My wrists ached, and my fingers went numb from the hours of being bound. I tried to wriggle loose and escape, but all that did was create a bright red welt where the twine rubbed and cut into my skin. The Freaks milling through headquarters didn’t even give pause to notice me. My obvious discomfort didn’t make anyone flinch, even my “future husband” Laurence or my “assistant manager/work friend” Will. I guess they were all used to this kind of spectacle.

More Freaks came trudging up to the main office. The green-haired one was with them, and he carried a little tin box of lighter fluid.

My thoughts quieted to a screaming hush at the sight.

Was he going to kill me? Did Dad have that depth of darkness inside?

Think, think, think. You’ve got to get out of here.

Mikey sauntered past me, toward the stairs, and I hissed to him, “Hey, Mikey.”

He hesitated and glowered at me uncertainly. The stare lasted a sincere ten or fifteen seconds. “What? What is it?”

“Look down at my feet.”

Mikey rolled his eyes, but he begrudgingly did as he was told. “Jesus, girl,” he said, then laughed a little. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Running from goddamn Freaks all night,” I explained. “They’re killing me, man. I’ve got blisters! I can’t take it anymore.”

Mikey slanted a dubious look at me, and I glared in return. “Oh, what?” I responded to his look. “You want my dad to come up here and see my mangled feet and know that I begged you to take my shoes off for me? Hell, undo the laces for me. I’ll do the rest! Come on. I’m not asking you to untie me. I’m asking you to unfasten my shoes. Please.”

Mikey rolled his eyes again but settled at my feet, gave me a quick glare, and warned me, “Don’t try anything smart.”

He bent down to unfasten my shoe, and as he toyed with the laces, I jammed my heel down as hard as I could, catching the flesh of his palm.

“Damn!” Mikey reared back, shook out his hand, and then brought it behind his shoulder to backhand me across the face.

“Michael,” Dad roared from behind him. “What the hell are you doing?”

Mikey grimaced and glared at me, then turned. Dad was at the top of the stairs, holding a large cardboard box in his arms. He wore a classic black business suit, crisp white shirt, and bright red power tie. I used to want to find a man like him: someone smooth and cultured, if not a touch vain and arrogant. But not anymore.

When I first saw Eli, I wanted him, but I didn’t think that he was my type. Tattooed. Rough. Bearded. Bartender. Callouses and amber eyes…

I didn’t think that hard-working and righteous was my type. I didn’t think that strong and decent was my type. What a spoiled princess I used to be.

“She stepped on my hand, sir,” Mikey whined to Dad. “I was defending myself.”

“Defending yourself from a 120-pound woman, tied to a chair,” Dad clarified for him.

I smirked. It was nice to see that Dad made everyone feel like an idiot, whether they were on his side or not.

“Yes, sir,” Mikey agreed, pouty.

“Did you douse the office yet?”

“No, sir. I was waiting for your command to be sure.”

“Great. We’re not ready yet. There’s a lot of shit in this tinder box I don’t want to lose forever. Just stand guard outside until we’re ready to begin. Thanks to this one…” His eyes slanted toward me and then back to Mikey. “We can’t be sure if we’ll have any visitors tonight or not.”

“Yes, sir.”

Mikey trooped down the stairs, leaving Dad and I alone in the office.

I took a deep, cleansing breath, steeling myself for what I knew was about to come.

Dad’s eyes traveled to me and absorbed me without a single flare of warmth. “Well.” He dropped the cardboard box lightly onto the floor. There was nothing in it. “You look like hell, Nina.”

I choked out a bitter laugh. “That’s what happens when you’re running all night in the clothes you’ve been wearing for days. That’s what happens when you’re afraid to go home.”

“And whose fault is that?” Dad asked, traipsing over to the bookcase and plucking leather-bound editions from the shelves. “I certainly didn’t encourage you to go gallivanting with that… hoodlum.”

“He’s the hoodlum?” My brain was about to come spilling out of my ears. “You’re the one shredding all your files and burning down your own business, you fraud!”

Dad’s pale, crystal blue eyes snapped to me and narrowed, but he said nothing. His nose gave a tiny twitch. “For the insurance,” he replied lightly, returning to his task of sliding his favorite books off the shelf and into their box. “I think we might use the money to finance an even greater business venture in the future.” He glanced over his shoulder at me, and his lip quirked. My guts roiled. I’d struggled for his approval my whole life, and now, he disgusted me. “I think we might move into assassinations, pet. Are you excited?”

“Does excitement make you feel nauseated?” I asked.

“Sometimes,” he answered. “It’s time to expand. That much is obvious to me. I’ve outgrown Montclair.” He glanced toward the window, his eyes becoming dreamy and contemplative. “It’s time to think about the entire city of Hinton.”

“And an assassination will help you control Hinton,” I said.

“Depending on whose assassination it is. When you look at Laurence, can’t you see him sitting behind a big door that says Mayor?”

I took another cleansing breath. I thought I was ready for whatever Dad might say next, and he still surprised me. “Honestly, when I look at Laurence,” I replied with a winsome smile, “I see him sitting behind bars.”

The happiness in Dad’s eyes flickered and died immediately. He turned away from me and threw another heavy book into the cardboard box at his feet. It landed heavily and the entire floor trembled. Thunk.

“Maybe we’ll start lower, then,” he grumbled. “Maybe we’ll start with dull bartenders who have Messiah complexes.” Thunk. “And stick their noses where they don’t belong.”

“I want to have his baby,” I said. “I want to marry him. I want to die beside him when we’re old.”

“Dear god, it’s worse than I thought,” Dad exclaimed toward the ceiling. Thunk. “What about that Neanderthal is attractive to you, Nina? I thought I raised you better than that.”

“You didn’t raise me.” That warranted an ice-cold glare. “I had no idea how it felt to have a man be there for me until I met Eli.”

Dad’s jaw tightened, and his eyes flared, but he still made no move to come toward me. “It’s a stage,” he concluded dryly, returning to his work. “You’re rebelling. You’ll see reason. You’re a reasonable woman, Nina. Always have been.” He shook his head and didn’t look back at me. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. “Given the choice between the role of a mayor’s pampered wife and a dead bartender’s pregnant ex-girlfriend… Think about it, love.”

“No regrets,” I hissed at his back. “I hope he can finish what he started before it’s too late.”

“You mean, before we paint the wall with his brains, pet?”

“Before you destroy this entire city, Daddy,” I grumbled hatefully.

In a second, Dad twisted from the bookcase and stalked toward me. “We will own this entire city!” he roared, looming over me. Impending violence bubbled and boiled in his aura, and I cringed away, waiting for the first blow. When Eli said that Dad abused him, I’d resisted it. It didn’t seem possible. But now, I saw it. I saw it clearly. “And don’t you think that we will treat a traitor kindly when that day comes,” he added acidly. “Even a traitor who is blood.”

Footsteps came thumping up the stairs. I couldn’t make out who it was, but every time movement came below, my pulse quickened in anticipation of Eli’s arrival.

“Would you really hurt me, Dad?” I asked him.

I don’t know why. Maybe the little girl inside of me, the one who always wanted his unconditional love, was still in there. Maybe she had to know that he would kill her if he had to, and then she could lay down and die on her own.

Laurence came to the top of the stairs and crossed in front of me without a second glance. He opened a drawer in the desk and hunted inside. Things rattled as his hands scrambled the contents. “JP, do you have—?”

Without warning, Dad gripped the back of Laurence’s head and slammed his face down into the polished oak desk. He brought it back up, and I could already see the large reddish splotch developing on the side of Lawrence’s face. In spite of my hatred for Laurence, I still gasped and wiggled in my chair, reacting defensively to the sight of his pain. I tried to free myself to help Laurence, but the twine wouldn’t give, and the chair rocked dangerously with my movement. “Stop!” I cried, confused and horrified by this random and senseless abuse. “Stop, please!”

My chair rocked too hard, and I crashed down onto my side. Still, Dad brought Laurence’s face down, then brought it down again, then heaved Laurence onto the carpet. He landed not far from me.

My dad’s right-hand man and old friend sprawled out and didn’t move.

“Is he…?” I whimpered.

The desk dripped with his blood. I could hear it.

“He’s fine,” Dad replied quietly, cleaning a drop of blood from the side of his hand. “You see, Nina?” He came to stand in front of me, but made no move to right my chair. His leather loafers gleamed at the tip of my nose. It felt fitting. It was how Dad saw me. “Anyone is expendable to me,” he hissed. “Everyone is expendable to me.”