The old truck rumbles along the interstate, the street lights casting an intermittent glow across the cab. Tor fidgets nervously beside me. Her hand is in mine, her leg bouncing anxiously.
"Tor," I say, and she glances up at me. She's biting her lip; worry etched across her face. "When Marney drops me off, that girl is going to get in the car with you. Do not fucking untie her."
She closes her eyes. I know that is going to be hard for her to deal with, but there is no way around this. "Just don't even look at her, okay? Pretend like she's not even here."
She nods. "Okay." Her eyes dart to mine. "Please be careful." She closes her eyes again and takes a deep breath.
"When am I not careful?" I smile as I brush a fingertip across her cheek.
Her eyes flash open, the steel blue of her irises searing right through me. "The second anything happens, you get out." Her fingers trace over my jaw. "I will not lose you to him too," she whispers.
"Nothing's gonna happen to me." I take a quick breath as I glance out of the window.
We're pulling off the interstate. I need to quickly make sure she understands this all before I leave. "You don't get out of the car. If Marney tells you to leave, you do it. Don't argue."
The truck sputters to a stop. She looks utterly terrified and grabs onto my arm.
"Tor, I'm coming right back."
She releases me and I climb out of the truck. I hear Rich coughing, and see the interior lights to his car come on when he opens the door. He lumbers around to the trunk and opens it. I come up behind him and my stomach knots. Sofia is crammed into the trunk, arms and legs bound, mouth gagged. All I can think about is that this is how Tor was brought to me. I shut that thought out.
Sofia's eyes are wide, her face soaked with tears. Rich reaches down and grabs the restraints, yanking her up, and I shove him out of the way. "Don't fucking hurt her," I shout, and Rich steps back.
I gently pull her out of the trunk and carry her to Marney's truck. She's shaking in my arms and whimpering. My chest tightens. I make a conscious effort not to look down at her as I approach the car. Rich walks ahead of me and opens the back cab of the truck.
"This will be over soon enough," I say as I place her in the back seat.
Marney glances back at me. "We'll be waiting on you," he says.
I make my way to the front passenger side. Tor's gaze is fixed straight ahead. I know she doesn't want to look back. I know that girl being in the car with her is probably killing her. I open the door and lean in. Tor turns her face towards me, her fingers brushing over my jaw. Her brows pull together in a frown and fear masks her features.
"Don't worry about me, doll," I say, taking her face in both hands and pressing my lips to hers.
Her fingers wrap around my wrists and hold me in place. She kisses me back harder, desperate to keep me there, but I pry myself away. And damn, is that hard. I force a smile onto my face.
"You gotta let me go." I step back, my eyes locked on hers. "I love you," I say before I shut the door. I watch the taillights disappear as Marney speeds off and inhale deeply.
"Now what?" Rich asks as he lights a cigarette.
"We hope to fucking God this guy's alone when he shows up."
We stand on the side of the road, guns in hand, and wait for the limousine to drive up. I've spent fifteen years imagining what the hell I would do when I finally get my hands on Joe Campbell, and now that I'm so close, it's a strange mix of excitement and fear. Headlights appear in the distance, and my heart drums into my throat.
"Alright, you check the back when he pulls up, okay?"
"Yep," Rich says. I hear the click of the gun cock.
The car slows and veers over onto the shoulder, dust flying up in the red taillights. I keep my finger on the trigger, stepping back into the tall grass as the black car rolls to a stop. I point the gun at the window as I reach for the passenger side door handle and open it. "You better be fucking alone," I say, staring in at Stan.
He glares at me, hatred written all over his face. "Where's my daughter?"
Rich moves to the back and opens the door. I see him climb inside out of the corner of my eye. "It's empty," he says.
"Roll the partition down," I order Stan before shutting the front door and getting into the back seat with Rich.
"Where is my daughter?" Stan asks again.
Ignoring his question, I press the barrel of the gun to the seat and glare at him through the opened glass. "I have this 45 Magnum buried in the seat behind you. You piss me off; I pull the trigger, and that bullet will rip right through your intestines. You do exactly as I say, or I will fucking kill you, and then your daughter doesn't stand a chance. Got it?" I exhale.
He doesn't say anything. "Got It? I shout.
"Yes," he growls.
"Good, now, drive. Don't stop until you get to the airport. You don't answer your phone if it rings."
His jaw ticks as he puts the car into drive and pulls off. It's silent, only the low hum of the tires rolling over the pavement. All I can think is this can't be so easy. If this guy said anything to Joe, tipped him off at all, this will not go as planned, and really, I don't expect it to. Nothing ever goes as planned in life. Nothing. I play out various scenarios of what may happen. Thinking maybe we're being driven to some abandoned house where fifty of Joe's men are waiting on us. The uncertainty causes my pulse to race. It's not that I'm scared to die, because I'm not. I'm afraid to leave her. I don't want to leave her. I can't leave her... I promised.
We pull up to one of the gates at the airport, and Rich shoves his gun into the waist of his jeans, flipping the bottom of his shirt down over it.
I push the door open, and he clamors out. "Get your fucking ass down to his gate right the fuck now," I say before slamming the door shut.
The limo navigates the airport drop offs. I glare through the partition at Stan. "Don't do anything stupid." I scoot, placing myself in the corner of the limo so Joe can't see me until he's inside. The car comes to a complete stop, and my heart immediately burst into a full-on sprint. While we wait, I watch the swarm of people pouring through the airport doors, my gaze frantically searching for Rich. I locate him standing to the side of the sidewalk, both hands shoved in his pants pockets.
Time seems to drag on; my body is pumped full of adrenaline. It's only been a half hour, but it seems like a fucking eternity, and then, I spot Joe exiting the doors. He's dressed in a black suit and red tie, briefcase in hand. My body heats the second I lay eyes on him. Each step he takes toward the car seems to be in slow motion. My heart violently slams against my chest, the sound of each hard beat is nearly deafening. I swallow when Joe reaches for the handle. Someone comes chasing after him, waving something in the air he must have dropped. Rich makes his way toward the car, standing directly behind Joe.
CLICK. The door opens, and Joe gets in the car. Rich lunges for the door grabbing onto it and slinging his body in behind Joe. Joe goes for his gun, but I point mine at his head with a resounding click.
"You fucking underestimated me," I say.
Joe looks up, and a sly smirk falls over his lips. "Did I?"
I use my free hand and tap over the glass. "Drive," I tell Stan.
The limo pulls away from the curb, bumping over the speed bumps. Rich grabs Joe's shoulders and forces him to turn around. Rich forces his hands behind his back, binding them with rope. Once he is finished restraining him, Joe laughs and slinks back into the seat.
We drive for miles; Joe and I sit glaring at each other coldly. He lifts a brow, a dark grin spreading over his mouth. "So, this is how it all ends is it? How are you going to kill me, Jude?"
I swallow hard as I stare at him. Even though he's at my mercy at this moment, he is completely calm, collected, unaffected by any of this, which makes me worry. "Slowly," is my only reply.
He laughs. "Always with the dramatic, your father was the same. Me, I like to kill emotionally before physically, it's more difficult, more agonizing. You see, I didn't kill your father physically, but he was already dead years before his heart gave out, wasn't he?" He chuckles again. "He hunted me until the day he died, trying to right something that couldn't be fixed, and now you're doing the same. I guess I should be flattered really."
I grit my teeth. The amount of sweat building in my palm is making the handle of the gun slippery. I will not acknowledge this piece of shit. I want to fucking put a bullet in his head right now; my finger twitches over the trigger. I could do it. I should do it. But he deserves to fucking suffer.
"Of course, I knew your father would come for me after I sent him that video." He grins. "I made him watch his virginal daughter get fucked again, and again."
Tension builds in my chest, my pulse going so wild I can feel it ticking in the end of my fingertips.
"You're having a daughter, right, Jude." His smile deepens. "I've already fucked her mother, so if you think about it, I've already fucked her while she was barely a thought in her mother's womb." White hot rage simmers beneath my skin. He leans forward slightly. "I've fucked every woman you ever cared about," he breathes.
Heat floods every last fucking inch of my skin. My heart is hammering against my ribs like a wild animal determined to escape, forcing the blood through my veins so hard black spots impair my vision. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying desperately to fight every fucking urge in my body. I have to do this the right way so we can leave this shit behind us.
"She's a good woman that girl of yours, her pussy is even tighter than your sister's and seeing as mine was the first dick to have her, that's saying something."
I pull the trigger. Joe grunts as the bullet rips through his shoulder. "Shut the fuck up!" I hiss.
He laughs maniacally, and then everything happens at once.
"Drop it,” Rich shouts, panicked. "Drop it!"
I turn and Stan has a pistol pointed at my face. BAM. Blood splatters the windshield as Stan slumps forward against the steering wheel. The car violently veers off the road. Tires squeal, and we fishtail from side to side. I try to brace myself, but the sudden jerk throws me against the side of the car, my gun flying from my grasp. There's a bang, and a moment of weightlessness, and then all I can hear is metal bending and glass shattering. There's a loud crunch as the car flips over, and I'm tossed around like a rag doll inside the cab as it rolls over and over again.
Suddenly, everything stops. My head spins as I try to find my bearings, and I attempt to blink away the dizziness. My ears are ringing so fucking loud.
The car is upside down, the windows all smashed out, the door frames buckled. The dim interior light casts enough of a glow that I can see Rich sprawled out in front of me, his neck twisted at a horrible angle, broken. Fuck. I try to sit up, but pain splinters through my leg. I glance down. My thigh is impaled by a jagged piece of glass, blood oozing around its edges. I grab the slick material, my hands shaking as I yank it out. A nauseating wave of pain courses through me, and blood spurts from the wound. I yank off my belt and strap it around my thigh, cinching it tightly above the gash. I frantically feel around me, moving debris as I search for my gun. Movement catches my eye. Joe's scrambling out of the broken door. He leans back against the window frame, the snapped hinges creaking from his weight, and moments later, I hear his heavy footsteps as he jogs away from the car.
That motherfucker is not getting away. I'm so close.
I happen to spot the gun at the far end of the limo and crawl over to it, shove it in the back of my jeans as I drag myself through the crushed door. My leg hurts like a bitch. I pull myself from the wreckage, tripping as I go to stand. I catch myself on the ground, and my hands brush against a piece of rope lying beside the doorway. Shit! Joe was cutting the rope on the broken glass.
It's dark as fuck outside. I can hear the hum of the traffic on the highway above us, and I glance around, trying to see if I can spot Joe. I walk blindly after him, the pine needles crunching unevenly under my boots as I limp into the darkness. With each slow step pain radiates down my leg and warm blood trickle down my thigh. I have to stop and lean against a tree. I grab my thigh, squeezing in an attempt to dull some of the pain. After a few seconds, I pull in a hard breath and continue through the woods until I come to a small clearing. There's a break in the trees allowing a trickle of moonlight to filter through. It sheds just enough light to make out vague shapes. I stop, listening for even the faintest sound, but all I can hear is my racing pulse and heavy breaths.
I panic. I cannot go on with my life if he is not dead.
The clouds sweep over the moon, utter darkness swallowing everything around me. My head is pounding. The ringing in my ears is so loud I can barely make out the sound of a footstep right behind me. A thick arm wraps around my throat, pulling back and crushing my Adam's apple into my windpipe.
"I didn't underestimate a thing, JP," he growls in my ear, tightening his grip around my throat.
I choke for air, clawing at his hands to get him off of me. I tuck my chin and use all my strength to throw my elbow into his stomach. His grip loosens momentarily, and I'm able to twist out of his hold. I swing my fist in his direction, hitting him in the side of the face. He stumbles, and I grab my gun, but before I can aim, Joe's kicked it from my grasp. There's a soft thud as it land in the brush behind me.
"No, JP," Joe pants. "You are going to fight me like a man. I want to kill you with my bare hands."
I lay into him, throwing punch after, which he meets. My face is throbbing, and my mouth is filled with blood. I've never fought a man as strong as him. Joe punches me hard in the face, knocking me to the ground. When I stand back up, he grabs me by the throat again, but this time, I latch onto his. We stand face to face, our eyes locked as we choke one another. His eyes narrow and his nostrils flare as I squeeze harder. His fingers dig into my neck, his thumbs pressing beneath my chin. I can feel everything draining from my body, and my hold on him grows weak. I think of Tor and my clutch on him tightens. His eyes flutter as my vision blurs, and then, his hands drop from my neck and he falls to the ground. I bend over my knees, gasping for air.
I stare at his limp body sprawled out on the ground. "Fuck you," I breathe and walk toward the brush to search for my gun.
The clouds slowly roll away, and the light from the moon brightens just enough that I catch a glint. I reach down, relief washing over me as my hand wraps around the handle of my gun. My heart pounds relentlessly as I turn to put a bullet in that worthless fuckers head, but something collides with my temple. The force knocks me sideways, and I lose my grip on the gun when I land on my knees. My head throbs while my vision swims in and out. A large shadow falls over the ground beside me and feels the cold end of the gun press to the back of my head.
"Really, I am sorry for this to have to end," Joe says.