Gary loved to taunt her. He would entertain her with tales of everything that he would do to Lind once he came. Eve would always let him know that Lind would not come, and that sent Gary into a rage. He would slap her then, hard across her face. By the third day (because Gary also made sure to always let her know exactly how long she had been his captive), the only taste Eve knew was that of her own blood that ran down to her lips from her nose. The hours dragged by, meaningless.
Eve had long lost hope that anyone would come to save her. Her knight in shining armor had long since abandoned his metal mount in favor of a bottle, becoming the most pitiful of peasants. She had no hope that Lind would miraculously come back to his old self now that she was in danger.
She spent the time drifting in and out of consciousness, her confused mind filled with dreams and nightmares. Circulation in her wrists and ankles came and went in waves because she was tied to Gary’s spare wheelchair. There was something sinister and poetic about it.
Whenever consciousness came, Eve would often wonder about Alec. She wondered if the ambulance had found him, if they had made it in time. She wondered if he was alive, and if he had awoken and told Lind what happened. She wondered if Lind even cared.
She looked up, as the door to the room in the back of the nightclub where she was held opened and Gary wheeled himself in. He stopped right in front of her as usual, as if he were just an old friend settling down for a chat, but she thought there was something different about him today. His eyes were meaner, sparkling with a dark light that chilled her to the bone.
“How is my beautiful captive today?” He addressed her with a cheerfulness that froze the blood in her veins.
Eve stared at him but said nothing.
“Not very talkative, are we?” he teased her. “I think you’ll be pleased to know that I’ve had one of my men check in with the hospital. Alec Moore is going to make a full recovery.”
Eve watched him carefully, trying to decide whether he was feeding her a lie.
“It’s the truth,” he said, guessing her doubts. “I was never after him. After all, people shooting at him is what got me into this mess to begin with.”
“Exactly,” Eve said, unable—and unwilling—to remain silent any longer. “And I had nothing to do with that.”
“No,” Gary admitted. “But you could have saved me.”
“I didn’t know they would come after you.”
“Didn’t know, or didn’t care?” he said in a raised voice, his eyes wide.
Revenge and having his life destroyed had driven Gary pretty much insane.
Eve sighed. “Just let me go. Can’t you see? No one is coming for me.”
“Perhaps,” Gary conceded. “But I’m not letting you go. You’re not walking out of this unscathed.” He rolled a little closer to her still. “I’m going to make sure you know what this means.” He gestured to his wheelchair.
Dread filled Eve so quickly that she thought she would throw up with the sheer force of it alone. “What…” She swallowed hard and tried again. “What do you mean?”
“I’m going to cripple you, my darling. Then, you’ll know what I’ve been through. What I’m still going through. What I’ll go through every day and every night for the rest of my very miserable life.”
Eve’s overwhelmed brain kicked into motion. She thought frantically about something, anything, she could say that would make him see reason, but she couldn’t find anything. This wasn’t a man capable of reason. This was a crazed man, and for all of the surreal experiences she had been having of late, she didn’t know how to deal with a crazed person.
“You’re a psychopath,” was all she could come up with, and she regretted it as soon as the words left her lips. That’s right, Eve, she commiserated. Insult him. Piss him off.
But Gary appeared unfazed. “You’ve made me one, my dear,” he said.
He made a quick call on his cell phone, and a few minutes later the door opened and two men stepped in. One of them was Vincent. He was holding a baseball bat in his hands.
Panicked, Eve began to struggle against her bonds. “LET ME GO!” she cried in a shrill voice that she hardly recognized as her own. “YOU CAN’T DO THIS! LET ME GO!”
“Oh, but I can,” Gary said, grinning sickeningly. “I can do this and I will.”
Eve was just about to vomit from the terror when familiar, explosive sounds came to her ears. Everyone in the room froze.
“What the fuck is that?” the man who had come in with Vincent said, looking around as if the answer might be written on the walls.
“Go check it out,” Vincent barked at him, and the man hurried from the room.
Vincent went to the window and peered outside. When he turned back, there was a grimace on his face. “It’s the Diamondbacks.”
Relief hit Eve like a brick wall. Her head began to swim as the tension and adrenaline slowly ebbed away from her body.
The next happenings were a blur. Shots were fired in the distance. There was a cracking sound as the word exploded and collapsed within himself. Shapes filled the room, storming in. Voices, cries, shouts. Her name, somewhere in there. Was Lind with them? She couldn’t tell. No one had a face; they were dark, blurry shadows and disembodied voices. She thought she heard gurgling, at some point.
Only later would she learn that it was the sound of Gary Merchant choking on his own blood after Lind had shot him in the throat.