Red (Hell’s Jury MC #5)

35. Chapter 35

CHAPTER 35

Stella

Sorcha and I are sitting on the bed, Sorcha tucked into me, sucking her thumb. She’s stressed and it’s making her sleepy. Part of me wants her to doze off so she gets some relief. The other part wants her to be alert in case we have a chance to run.

We’re at the Shawshank hotel. It’s a rat’s nest. Saggy beds, dirty walls and I’m pretty sure I’m sitting on cum stains. Mind you, it’s better than being tied up in the chair next to the assholes I’m gonna kill first chance I get.

I was right about them searching me. They make us remove our coats but toss Sorcha’s on the bed. “Where the fuck’s your phone?” the tall guys says as he rifles through the pockets of my jacket.

I shrug, like I’m confused. “I don’t know. I had it when I left home. Maybe I forgot it somewhere. The ice cream shop.”

“No,” Sorcha starts.

I elbow her hard enough to make her squeak. “This is a grown-up conversation, Sorcha. Mind your own business.”

She stares at me with big glistening eyes, then shifts away as her lip quivers.

The shorter agent, the one with the garlic breath laughs. “The wicked stepmother shows her colors.”

“I’m kinda stressed here!” At least I’ve distracted them from the phone conversation.

I pull Sorcha into me. I need the comfort as much as she does. “I’m sorry, honey.”

She snuggles in again as she sniffles. “I’m sorry too.”

Oh sweetheart, you have nothing to apologize for. “It’s okay. We’re okay.”

I catch the eye of garlic breath. “Could you at least tell me what’s going on?”

“No,” he says bluntly. “Your boyfriend can tell you when he gets here. If he doesn’t go stupid and we have to kill him.”

Sorcha whimpers.

I want to destroy that asshole. I want to pull out his tongue with a pair of pliers. I want to saw off his gun hand, then feed it to his partner.

That’s enough fantasizing, Stella. You need a realistic plan.

Right. I look at garlic breath’s hands; they’re empty. He’s not holding the gun anymore.

But he has one, and the other guy probably does too.

I’m tall. I’m strong. I can take these two.

Not at the same time.

How can I get them separated?

Make one leave the room.

How?

Call for a hooker or something.

C’mon, Stella. Think.

What did they say? They said they might kill Lachlan. I choke on the thought then swallow it down. No time for sentiment, Stella. The important thing is that they told him they have me and Sorcha. He knows.

But why us? Why Lachlan? What do they want?

Sorcha wiggles, then says, “I have to go to the bathroom.”

The two assholes look at each other. “Then go,” the tall one says to Sorcha.

She stares at him like he has two heads. “Not alone. I don’t go by myself. I need Stella to help me.”

I look down at my little liar. I’ve seen her go by herself.

“You can pee your pants then,” garlic breath snarls.

Whoa. Who the hell does he think he is? “No!” I say sharply. “We don’t know how long we’ll have to wait and she’s not going to sit in wet pants. You’ll have to shoot me before that happens. Then you’ll have to do the babysitting.”

Apparently there’s nothing like threatening a grown man with a five-year-old child.

“Go but leave the fuckin’ door open.”

I pull Sorcha off the bed, take her hand and head to the bathroom as she says, “I don’t wanna leave the door open. I don’t want boys seeing me.”

I walk into the bathroom and slam the door.

“You fuckin’ bitch!” garlic breath yells.

I grit my teeth. “There’s no fucking lock. Where do you think we’re gonna go in this termite infested shithole.”

I know I shouldn’t curse in front of Sorcha, but it turns out I have a potty mouth when I’m scared to fucking death.

Sorcha drops her pants and climbs onto the toilet while I search the bathroom for a weapon. The place is toxic. Nothing’s clean, the silicone on the tub is moldering, the corroded shower head drips, the mirror’s cracked. It smells like a body’s decaying. If I could lock those bastards into this room for 30 minutes, they’d die of Ebola.

There’s a hole in the wall under the sink and a gross plunger by the toilet. I could use the stick of the plunger as a weapon. I kneel and look in the hole in the wall. Maybe there’s a pipe inside. Better than a stick if I can manage to loosen it. With a shudder, I tentatively slide my hand inside.

I choke down the bile rising in my throat as my hand encounters cobwebs.

“Shit!”

Take one for the team, you coward.

Sorcha wipes herself and then goes to flush.

“Don’t flush,” I say. “They’ll know we’re done then and we don’t wanna go back out there yet.”

As if on cue, the ugly one says, “What the fuck is taking you so long?”

“She’s gotta poop!” I yell back.

“I don’t gotta?—”

I shush her. “It’s Opposite Day, honey. Tomorrow we’ll discuss why.”

“Oh,” she says, her eyes lighting up in delight.

“I gotta go poop,” she yells, then jumps on the toilet. “In case they come in,” she whispers.

“I love you, kid,” I murmur. I take a deep breath as I shove my hand back in the hole and fish around.

I find more cobwebs and dust. Something skitters away. A bug clambers onto my hand and I swallow a scream as I shake it off. Be brave, Stella. You can do this. My fingers sink into something squishy.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” I repeat under my breath. Then I find something hard. I wrap my hands around it and pull it out. It’s the elbow of a rusty pipe. Curved and short, but maybe hard enough to cave a skull in with enough force. A spider crawls out the inside of it and I almost crack my head on the sink as I crawl backwards, then jump up.

“I’m done, Stella,” Sorcha says. “I can’t sit on the toilet anymore.”

“You don’t have to sit. Stand up and pull up your pants.”

I run the tap water through the pipe, then wash it.

“What the fuck are you doing!” Still garlic breath. He must be the really bad guy.

“She’s washing her hands.” I examine the pipe elbow, thinking of how to hide it so it’s easily accessible. No coats, no pockets. And while it’s small, it’s awkward. I consider the plunger and decide it’s the better choice of weapon.

The noise of the flushing toilet masks the crack of wood as I break off the handle and stuff what’s left of the plunger inside the hole in wall. The handle is long and the broken end is nice and pointy. It will do the trick if I have to stab one of the guys. I slide it down the front of my pants and bless my parents that height runs in the family. It sits against the upper leg like it belongs there. I turn the handle and open the door.

Garlic breath is waiting.

“Back off,” I say. “You don’t need to traumatize the child more than you already have.”

“Yeah,” Sorcha pipes up. “I’m traumatized.” She looks up at me for approval.

I give her a nod.

As we move past him, garlic breath shoves me between the shoulder blades. “Get back on the bed.”

“Hey!” I snarl as I stumble. “Keep your hands to yourself.”

Sorcha starts to sniffle. “I don’t like you guys.”

“It’s okay, sweetie,” I tell her as I try to settle my beating heart. “They’re just worried that you’re sick.” I wink at her.

Her face lights up as she tries to wink back. “I lied,” she announces. “I love you!” She throws herself at garlic breath, grabbing him around the legs and almost toppling him.

“What the fuck!” he shouts.

“Stella said it’s Opposite Day.”

“What the hell does that mean?” The taller guy is standing so close to me, I can feel his foul breath on my neck. I shudder.

“I don’t know,” I say. “She’s five. She gets ideas.”

Stella frowns at me as she thinks about what I just said, then remembers it’s Opposite Day. “No one ever knows what I mean.”

They’ve got me and Sorcha sandwiched between them. No guns in their hands. I’m just a girl after all; how could I take down these two macho fucks. But Sorcha’s too close to us and I don’t want her hurt.

“Opposite Day is over,” I snap. “Get on the bed.”

The longest few seconds of my life tick by as we all stand frozen, the assholes not immediately understanding, and Sorcha’s confused. “Please,” I add.

She must see something in my face because she races away and scrambles onto the bed.

I’m already in motion.

I grab the plunger handle from my pants and stab it hard into garlic breath’s stomach. At the same time, I slam my elbow backwards into tall guy’s groin, then turn and nail him in the jaw with my fist. “Run!” I scream at Sorcha but she’s motionless and I’ve lost the advantage as garlic breath grabs my hair, jerks me around and slams his fist into my face.

Sorcha starts screaming as I stagger backwards into the tall guy. My head swims and my vison gets fuzzy. Oblivion would be nice right now.

Don’t you dare black out, Stella. Sorcha needs you. But the pain is taking over and my body’s shutting down.

“Shut the fuck up, you little brat or I’ll break you fucking neck,” garlic breath yells.

There’s a distant bang and Sorcha starts to scream louder.

I whimper as my knees buckle then I’m on the floor. Someone kicks me in the stomach. “You fuckin’ bitch. You goddamned stabbed me.”

“Sorcha,” I sob as my world spins. “I’m so sorry.”