CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
HUNTER
I watch the city pass by outside. The handcuffs are digging into my wrists, I’m sandwiched in the back of this patrol car by Bobby and one of the others I recognize from the precinct, and I can’t imagine we’re off to buy ice cream and talk sexual conquests.
As expected, they haven’t taken me out. No, they want to enjoy it, take their time.
It’s incredible. I’ve barely been in New York a week, but I can already make out where we are, where we’re headed. It’s not towards the precinct, at least not the one we belong to.
“What’s she like?” the Captain asks, his beady eyes in the rearview.
“Who?” I reply, knowing the answer full well.
“Siddell,” he smirks. “I know you’re fucking her. I can smell her sweet, ripe pussy from here. She likes it rough, I bet, doesn’t she?”
I look away.
The Captain starts to laugh, nodding with satisfaction. “I fucking knew it, didn’t I, Bobby?”
“Yes, sir,” he replies, fishing for his ringing cell.
He answers while the Captain continues to speak. “You shouldn’t have asked questions, son. I brought you in because you seemed like a solider, a ‘yes, sir’ type like Bobby here, and let me tell you that is no bad thing in this world. Siddell? I didn’t take her for the questioning type either, thought your stiff, country thinking would shift her onto the straight and narrow, but I guess I gone and fucked up, didn’t I?”
“Fuck,” says Bobby, drawing the cell away from his ear. “We got a problem, Cap.”
The Captain’s eyes return to the rearview, but this time there’s concern within them. “What kind?” he asks carefully.
Bobby pulls in air through his nostrils before delivering the news. “They’ve got your brother.”
“Fucking who?!” shouts the Captain, his composure coming apart.
“Siddell… and the Feds,” adds Bobby, eyeing me.
I can’t help but smile. Regardless of what happens to me, justice will be served, and Grace’s safe. That’s the main thing. I couldn’t live with myself is she was hurt, injured. I’ve been with her less time than I have this city, but already our connection and bond is so unbreakable I’d happily go to hell and back to keep her out of harm’s way. Fuck the Captain. Fuck the consequences.
As we pull down a side street, where we’re headed becomes crystal clear.
Looks like you might get your wish, I think.
The Captain’s silent. With Nathan in custody, he knows he’s next.
“Drop me off,” I tell him. “It’s not going to serve you well if you’re picked up with me in tow.”
Bobby’s fist strikes me in the side of the jaw, snapping my head sideways. I taste blood in my mouth. “You shut the fuck up, pretty boy.”
“I’m not planning on keeping you around,” says the Captain, a sneer on his face that speaks of all kinds of trouble.
It’s all on Grace now.
We pull up at the abandoned precinct, the Captain parking the cruiser in the underground carpark. TNT is long gone, parked a few blocks over.
I’m hauled out by Bobby and another officer I don’t recognize, forced into the very same cell Grace and I made love in last night.
Bobby kicks my legs out from under me. “Get the fuck down, you piece of shit.”
I go down grunting to my knees.
I let my eyes take in the cell. It’s small, especially with the four of us in here. I can use that to my advantage.
I know what Grace said, but I’ve got to run under the assumption the cavalry might not make it here in time.
The Captain stands in front of me and takes out his piece, lining it up with my head.
I force myself to remain calm, to draw on that focus I found on the football field, during my treatment, ramming it all into a pinpointed evaluation of what I’m up against.
I attempt to buy time. “What are you going to do with me?”
The Captain looks to Bobby puzzled. “Do with you? I’m going to put a slug in your thick skull and drop you off in the Hudson for a midnight swim. How does that sound?”
“You really want to add another murder charge to your rap sheet?”
“Another?” the Captain laughs. “Oh, you think Bobby killed that bitch? He’s a good soldier, like I said, but no, I handled her personally, kind of enjoyed it, actually.”
“Rachel deserved better.”
“She was nothing, a nobody,” continues the Captain. “And she won’t be missed.”
“The murder weapon?” I ask, knowing I’m pushing my luck.
Now it’s Bobby’s turn to laugh. “You and the fish can look for it later.”
“Enough chit chat,” says the Captain.
There’s a sound from the basement. It’s enough for the Captain’s attention to be drawn, his head turning sideways.
Go.
Using all the strength I can muster, I snap forward like this is the most important offensive play of my life, using my head to drive as hard as I can into the Captain’s chest.
It takes him by surprise. I drive him all the way into the bars at the back of the cell, his piece clattering to the floor as he slumps to the floor winded, gasping for air.
I spin and see Bobby to my left, the other asshole to the right, both of them in the process of drawing their weapons.
I come up and kick out with everything I’ve got, managing to strike Bobby in the knee, the terrible crunch of bone echoing off the walls. His gun goes wide, swinging past my head and firing… the bullet finding its mark almost perfectly centered in the other guy’s forehead. He drops, instantly lifeless.
Bobby fires again, but I kick his arm, pinning it against the wall, the shot collecting in the far wall.
I can’t let up for a single second. I bring my knee up into his chest, leaning over his shoulder for leverage. He crumples and I deliver a final kick to the head that puts him down for good.
I crouch and start fishing for the Captain’s gun on the floor… until I realize it’s gone.
The Captain’s got it in one hand, standing at the back of the cell, holding his chest with the other. I’m too far away, the element of surprise gone.
The Captain attempts a smile. “Sweet dreams, son.”
I’m not going to close my eyes. I’ll face this down like everything else in my life—head on and without regret.
A brief consideration of what I’m leaving behind flashes through my head. Grace, my brothers…
There’s a shot, the Captain’s head thrown sideways as if pulled by an invisible string. He drops, just like that, to the floor.
I look past the bars and see Grace standing there with weapon raised, a wisp of smoke curling out from the barrel.
I breathe out, rocking forward.
Feds swarm in around her, funneling into the cell and checking on the others.
It’s done.
It’s over.
Grace pushes her way through and gets down to the ground on her knees, my face in her hand and tears in her eyes. And here I was thinking she was incapable of crying, a cyborg sent from the year 2029 to steal my heart.
“You really cut it fine.” I smile.
She shakes her head. “Any finer and you’d be wallpaper.”
“I’m never being the bait again, that’s for sure.” I glance up to the corner of the cell where the camera is fixed. “Tell me that thing was recording.”
“It was, though I made sure to, ah, erase certain recent ‘activities’ that may have taken place down here prior to today”
I squint, the effects of my head ram starting to filter in.
“You alright?” asks Grace, her silky voice thick with concern.
“My head feels like it’s been replaced by a pressure cooker.”
She scoots closer and reaches between my legs, squeezing. “Good thing I know a remedy for that.”