CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
SHANNON
I hear laughter, but it’s distant—way off.
Someone, or something, is slapping the side of my face.
I come to, my head sloshing from side to side, my sense of direction lost.
My eyes start to focus.
Things fill in real fast after that.
I’m groggy, my head is pounding, but I know danger when I see it.
I’m not at lunch with Triss anymore.
I vaguely recall we were having a good time. She drove us to this trendy burger bar with skateboard decks turned into tables and a young, fashionable crowd. I ordered the mushroom burger, a soda. We talked about Gabe… I think. Triss was kind of cool about it all. It gets mushy after that, my memory disjointed.
The burger bar is gone. I’m bound to a metal chair in what appears to be a small warehouse of some sort, holes in the roof and pallets piled high against the walls. Triss is standing in front of me smiling smugly. The scar under her left eye looks darker.
She crouches down to my level. “Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty.”
“What’s going on?” I ask, but the words slur, my tongue thick and numb in my mouth.
She smiles wider, little, sharp teeth showing through. “I guess lunch didn’t agree with you. So we’re clear, though, I drugged you.”
“You what?”
“I slipped something into your drink. Thank God for the dark web, right?”
She’s not beating around the bush. No, Triss seems like the sort of person who says exactly what she means… and means what she says.
She licks her lips, staring down between her boots.
“Please, what’s happening?” I ask.
“I didn’t want to taser you,” she continues. “It’s nasty stuff, leaves a mark. I didn’t club you over the head either. You’ve got to be thankful about that.”
She’s insane, I think.
I go to move my hands, but they’re handcuffed together, my ankles bound to the chair legs. I’m not going anywhere.
“As abductions go,” says Triss, still crouching, “I’d say this is all pretty humane. If you’ve been where I’ve been…. Holy shit. They don’t fuck around in other parts of the world.” Her face folds with concern. “Do you have a headache?”
I nod.
“It’ll pass. I kept the dosage low.” She laughs to herself. “I didn’t want you fucking dying on me. I’m a bitch, but I’m not that fucking nasty. Well, not yet.” She laughs again, a low-pitched ‘ha, ha, ha’ that doesn’t gel with her outward appearance.
Stay calm, stay calm, I tell myself, but I’m freaking out. Triss has training. She’s probably done this before, in the Rangers. She’s killed people, no doubt, and she’s clearly unhinged. Whatever happened to her overseas has messed with her head.
The temperature is mild, but I’m sweating hard, my breathing uneven. What I do know is that I have to figure out what she wants with me, and fast. I can work from there, try to make her see sense.
I come right out with it, my head pounding. “What do you want with me?”
Triss stands, a finger on her chin. “Hmm, what do I want? What do I want?” She clicks her fingers. “Really, Shannon, I’m doing you a favor here.”
“I’m sorry?” The way my back is being forced against the chair hurts. Panic’s pressing to take over, but I force myself to keep it at bay.
“Gabe and I are meant for each other,” declares Triss, calm as if she were reading from a recipe book. “We’ve seen things together, done things together, done things you can’t even begin to imagine. What could you possibly offer him, a fucking civilian? Besides, we have debts to pay, the two of us. Gabe will see that, see what he’s doing here, the mistake he’s making.” She starts to pace. “There’s a question of trust, too, because Gabe’s ultimately going to hurt you anyways. He always does. I mean, fuck, he hurt me worst of all, but then I can take the pain. It’s almost like a friend now. After the shit I went through I’ve got a whole new tolerance for it.” She crouches. “As for you… I’m guessing you can barely stand to break a nail.”
“Triss, please. Let me go.” I know how it sounds, but I have to try.
She ignores me. “I’m here to open his eyes, and yours—literally, if I have to—make sure everyone is on the same, pretty page.”
I wonder if Gabe knows how unbalanced Triss has become, but somehow I think she’s managed to keep this side of herself well hidden. What she’s been through… It’s clearly broken something deep inside her psyche, which is why I have to be especially careful here. Triss has killed people. She’s probably seeing this as another operation.
I press that fear right down as far as I can and swallow, speaking even though my lips are so dry my tongue’s sandpaper against them. I try a different tact. “Why don’t you let Gabe decide who he wants to be with?”
She stands and rounds on me. “Let him decide?” she laughs. “He doesn’t know what’s good for him.”
“But shouldn’t it be his decision?”
I can almost hear the cogs turning in her head, the logic being squeezed aside to be replaced with something far more sinister.
I keep going. “I just don’t see how this is going to help you. If you let me go, I promise I won’t say anything to him. We can all just…” I struggle to get it out it sounds so ridiculous, “sit down and talk it through.”
The laugh that comes back at me is thick and loud, booming in the hollow space of the warehouse. “Talk? Politicians fucking talk, you know. They jabber away while people like Gabe and me, actual feet on the ground, are torn to pieces thanks to bad intel or clear neglect for human fucking life.” She uses her fingers to air-quote. “Fucking ‘talk’ never got anything done in the real world.”
I’m worried she’s gearing up for a battle to the death, hand-to-hand combat. If it comes down to that, I’m screwed.
Triss appears to settle somewhat, crouching again and shuffling a bit closer to me. “Look, we are going to talk. I intend to have a nice, long chat about all of this.” She places her hand on my knee, her tone reassuring. “I’m not completely unreasonable. Don’t worry. Just sit tight here for, I don’t know, a couple of days, maybe a week at most, and we’ll go from there, okay?”
So that’s how it’s going to be—Triss’s masterplan.
“Once Gabe realizes you skipped out on him,” she continues, “once he figures you’re out of town or whatever, you can go back to your boring old civilian life and hook up with someone more appropriate… A therapist, maybe? Something tells me you’re going to need one.”
Triss turns to leave. She’s going to walk right out of here. The panic I’ve been suppressing geysers up into the loudest scream I can muster, my throat burning with the effort.
Big mistake.
Triss spins and slaps me hard across the face. My head snaps sideways. I swear I felt my brain rattle around in my skull from the force of it.
“Tr—” I start to slur, until a great thumping begins between my eyes.
I pass out, my head slumping to my shoulder.