“There’s a change of plans,” Marco says. “You need to release Lev in five minutes.”
I can’t say there isn’t a flicker of pride in my chest when I see the kidnapper eye the house warily.
“What if he attacks me? It took two of us last time,” the kidnapper says.
“That was before I beat him, before I shot him in the leg, and before he started bleeding out,” Marco says. “You’ll be fine.”
Marco yanks my arm, dragging me toward the car. I catch one more glimpse of the house as the kidnapper walks toward it.
For the first time in my life, I hope for a man’s death.
23
Lev
Marco’s accomplice approaches me slowly. He’s a large man, his arms hanging down like dead tree branches. I lean my head back. He’s not going to kill me. It wouldn’t fit into Marco’s plan.
He circles around me. Blood has drenched my right pant leg. With every breath I take, my ribs vibrate with pain. But it’s all trivial when I need to get to Ally.
Behind me, the goon’s hands yank my wrists up by the handcuffs. He unlocks the cuffs. My arm falls to the ground. The other cuff falls off.
I lunge forward, snatching the broken chair leg, and he knows immediately that he fucked up—badly. He runs at me, trying to grab my arm. I swing the leg, catching the side of his face.
He recoils, touching the line of blood on his cheek. As I swing at him again, he stoops down to avoid it. The leg swings over his head and I grab him by his hair with my other hand. I yank his head back, so he’s staring up at the ceiling. I lift the leg up and drive it through his eye. The sounds of him dying are sickening.
When he stops moving, I know he’s dead.
I let him drop to the floor and wipe some blood off my chin. Adrenaline swells in my veins, anesthetizing some of the pain, but it still ensnares me. I push it away; I need to focus on coming up with a plan to get Ally.
Steal a car. Speed down the road. Catch up to Marco and kill him.
I open the house’s front door. I’ve barely taken a step out when I hear the police sirens.
This is what Marcus wanted.
He knew I’d kill off his accomplice as soon as I was free. It eliminated one of the people who could testify against him and his accomplice was the only other living person in the house. Three dead people, a missing chief’s daughter, and me.
I’m fucked.
Two police cars speed into the driveway. I raise my hands in surrender, the pain in my ribs acting as another reminder that what remains of Ally’s life is going to be torture because of me. I can’t bear to think of what will happen to our child. To even consider it will cause me to lose what’s left of my mind.
Three policemen pour out of the first cars, their guns raised. They start shouting.
“Get on the ground!”
“Lie facedown on the ground!”
I get onto my knees, keeping my hands up. “I didn’t do this.”
“Shut the fuck up and get on the ground!”
I lie facedown on the floor, my legs lying over the threshold of the house. One of the policemen runs up. Her hands hesitate over my wrists. She must see the marks. Nevertheless, she snaps on the handcuffs. The two other officers run into the house.
“You need to listen to me,” I say to the woman. “This wasn’t me. The police chief’s daughter has been kidnapped. They left five minutes ago. It’s the Colosimos.”
“You have the right to remain silent,” she starts.
“No,” I cut her off. “You have to find Allison Harrington. They just left. You need to find them.”
“Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?”
The bullet wound in my leg gushes more blood. My head swims with regrets.
I should have studied medical care.
I shouldn’t have gotten involved with Ally.
I should have killed Marco the first time I saw him.
“Sir? Sir, the EMTs are coming,” the officer says.
“Three dead bodies,” one of the other officer calls out. “All murdered. Fucking horrific.”
I hear the sound of another car pulling up. I close my eyes. “Just please find Marco Colosimo,” I tell the female police officer. “He has Allison Harrington.”
“Get out of the way,” a rough voice demands.
Peter Harrington.
He grabs the front of my shirt and yanks me up. His eyes are bloodshot.
“What have you fucking done with my daughter?” he says, through bared teeth. “I don’t give a fuck who’s here; I will kill you if you don’t tell me where she is.”
“It’s the Colosimos,” I tell him. His fist comes out of nowhere, knocking me down to my knees. He’s not as strong as Marco, but after all of the previous hits, the pain is the same.
The female officer tries to push Peter Harrington back, but he shrugs her off. I slowly get to my feet, my hands still locked behind my back.
“This is why I didn’t want her near you. I knew this would happen. Tell me where she is or I swear to God—”
“Do you think I blew up my own house?” I snap back. “Do you think I beat myself up? Ask your officer. I was restrained. You think I’d kill three people in my own childhood home? This is the Colosimos. Marco Colosimo took her. They left about eight minutes ago. This is my fault, but I’m not the person who took her. We can’t argue about this right now. I need to get to her.”
“You’re a lying sack of shit,” Peter says. His eyes dart back and forth as he takes in what I said. “I just want my daughter back.”
“Then let me
