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Authors: Jennifer Harlow

Justice (31 page)

BOOK: Justice
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A few more twists and turns, all downhill, before the car pulls to a stop. The car door opens, then a few seconds later a metal door opens outside. We drive through it, then it shuts again. It’s pitch black now. We drive another minute on the gravel before stopping again. There’s only a little light from the hole. This time both car doors open and the men walk toward us, gravel under their feet signal their approach. My heart is about to leap out of my chest as the trunk opens.

I’m ready for them. I kick the nearest one square in the face, more than satisfied when I hear his nose crack and blood spew from it. As he recoils, leather jacket punches me in the face, stunning me. He grabs my collar and tosses me hard onto the rocks and gravel. It’d hurt more if not for my screaming jaw. As I’m still reeling, leather nicely helps Lucy out of the trunk.

We’re underground in the subway, metal tracks crossing over gravel. The only lights are from the portables set up around. There’s a nearby subway car parked about twenty yards away near an old station. If I look the way we came, there’s nothing but darkness. The other guard stumbles over to me, pissed to hell.

You fucking bitch!

he says as he kicks me in the stomach. I can’t breathe. Pain replaces air. I curl into the fetal position to stave off more blows.


Hey!

All eyes move to the source. Strolling out of the lit-up subway car onto the platform is the man himself in all his glory. He’s dressed in chinos, loafers, white shirt, with his goatee and hair coiffed to perfection. King of the Underground and he knows it. Ryder jumps off the platform, walking toward us.

That’s no way to treat a guest.


She broke my fucking nose and killed Burns today!


You did try to kill her as well. I’d break your nose too.

He saunters over to me and my nausea returns. My eyes don’t leave those wrists.

Hi, Joanna. Nice to formally meet you.

He holds out his hand, and I wince. He chuckles, shaking his head.

You try and be nice.

Ryder grabs my hands and yanks me up, not easy as my body is reeling from today’s torture. The bastard actually puts his arm around my waist to support me as I limp toward the subway car. Whenever I glance at him, he gives me a friendly smile. He really is fucking crazy.

We’re led into the car, which is set up like an apartment with a bed, books, a rack of clothes, a hot plate, and a tiny fridge with a power line out to the generator. Better than prison, I guess. He helps me sit on his bed as leather jacket sits a shaking Lucy next to me. Alkaline whispers a few words to the men. I recognize the word

Blitzkrieg,

a henchman for hire from Jericho who combines his talent for bombs with his gift of flying. Bastard owes me a samurai sword. When Ryder finishes his instructions the guards walk out, sliding the car door shut behind them. I’m actually more frightened when they leave.

James Ryder. Alkaline. A few feet away from me. And there’s not a damn thing I can do to stop what’s coming.

He pulls up a chair, casual as hell, and sits facing Lucy and me on the bed.

So. Here we are. At last. Sorry the place is such a mess. I wasn’t expecting company so soon. He was just supposed to place the bomb under Ms. Helms’ car.

He smiles at the lady.

Though when we realized where she was headed, the men had the wherewithal to call and the plan changed, definitely for the better.


Lucky you,

I say.


It’s better to be lucky than smart,

he says with another smile.

Though I have been blessed with both, as you know firsthand. That was fun on the bridge that night. Thrilling. I wanted you chasing me from the very beginning, you know. It was all part of the plan. I just didn’t know it would be so much fun.

Still smiling, he scoots closer to me. I recoil, but that smile doesn’t fade.

You know, I remember you from the neighborhood. You were always walking around with that ‘don’t mess with me’ look. Even my dealers knew to leave you alone. It was cute as hell.

He reaches across and caresses my chin. I don’t react.

Not much has changed.


Yeah, I’m irresistible,

I say sarcastically. I’m powerless, and we both know it. But there is no way in hell I’m going to give this piece of shit the satisfaction of seeing me scared.
None.

Look, I’m exhausted. I don’t want to play any games with you. So I will do whatever you want, okay? I won’t fight. Or I will, if that’s how you get off. Whatever floats your boat. Just don’t hurt Lucy, okay? You raping and murdering me will be more than enough to get your point across.


How noble. Though, how do you know that’s what I intend to do to you?


Because you’re a fucking cowardly rapist child-killer with no soul whose tried to kill me twice today. So, let her go and just get it over with already.

He leans in closer, apprizing me with that smile that’s still growing.

I admire your strength, Joanna. When your friend, the good doctor, found herself facing a similar fate, she crumbled into incoherent sobs and pleas. Yet here you are with your chin up, looking out for a woman who has treated you with disrespect for years.

I narrow my eyes. How did he know that?

Your friend is an idiot to have let such a woman as yourself pass him by.


Well, I don’t have a dead mother and child in the next room like Rebecca did.

The smile drops.

I do regret the child. I made sure she didn’t suffer. She didn’t even know what was happening.


You’re a real humanitarian, Ryder.


He’s
the one who dragged her into all of this,

he says, finally showing some of that famous rage.

He had to have known this would eventually happen. He’s destroyed so many lives. One of us was bound to piece together the truth and act on that knowledge. I had a life. Love. He took that away from me. What kind of man would I be if I didn’t do the same to him?


A chickenshit psycho who has to prey on women and children because he’s too gutless to come at him directly,

I say, the words almost literally dripping with venom.

He rolls his eyes.

This where I’m supposed to fly into a rage and dispatch you with minimal pain, correct? I’m not one of your usual lowlifes so consumed with anger I can’t see straight at a little prodding, so save your breath. I have a very specific plan for you.

He looks at Lucy.

You
, I’ll have to think about. I was going to be humane with the bomb—simple, unexpected, tragic—but this might be better. I’d set up a trap where he can save only one of you, but that’s rather cliché. Shrieker in New Urbana just did that this week. I’d like to think I have more imagination than that.


You’re insane,

Lucy says.

Certifiably.


Three years locked up alone with no one to talk to. Nothing to do but read. And fantasize. You’d go a little mad too. So…

He stands, smoothing his crisp pants.

I have a few last minute details to take care of. My timeline’s been moved up considerably. There’s so much to do!


Don’t let us keep you,

I say.


You might not believe me, but I am sorry you both had to be dragged into this. I really am.


Go—fuck—yourself,

I say, drawing out every word.

He shakes his head.

The things I’m going to do to that mouth.


Bring it on.

Still shaking his head and smiling, he walks out. He slides the door shut and the man with the broken nose stands guard in front of it. Ryder talks with leather jacket and they walk toward the only door in the station. I breathe a sigh of relief.

Lucy starts biting at her cuffs.

What are we going to do?

I stand up and start searching for something,
anything
useful. There are a few pens and if these were regular cuffs I’d be out of them in a jiffy. No such luck. I toss the bed but only find a small, lacy bra from La Perla. Jane Smith’s been here. Lucy checks the books and fridge. Our shenanigans draw attention. The guard pounds on the door to stop us, brandishing his gun to get the point across. I sit back down with a groan.

Fuck!


Justin will find us. Justin will save us,

Lucy says.

I take one of Ryder’s shirts and wrap up my bleeding foot.

How? A GPS tracking chip doesn’t work underground.


He will! He has to. We just need to buy him some time.

I scoff.

Waiting for rescue is never a viable option. They can move us, or they can just come in and shoot us. No. I need to think.

I stand again and walk around the car, looking out the windows for inspiration. Nothing but darkness both ways.

The guard pounds on the door, holding up his gun with a sneer.

Sit the fuck down, bitch!

Light bulb.

I flip him off with both fingers and mouth,

Fuck you.

He glares at me with utter hatred.

Lucy, I’m going to need your help in a second here. Then be ready to run.

The guard pounds again, but I pick up the chair and begin smashing it against the far window. I hear the door open and close.

Bitch, stop!

I spin around and toss the chair at him.

Fuck you, cocksucker!

I say before I spit at him.

Pussy!

Too damn easy. He lunges at me, gun pointed right at my head. We fall onto the bed with me underneath him. His free hand clasps around my neck, the other with the gun pushing into my forehead. I can’t breathe.

Cunt! I’ll fucking—

Lucy whacks my attacker over the head with the hot plate. He releases me, crying out in pain, and Lucy hits him again. And again. It doesn’t knock him out, but he’s stunned enough for me to bite his gun hand. He drops the gun as a trembling Lucy backs away. The bastard still won’t get off me and now he’s even more pissed. I have no choice. Using the palms of my hands, I send his nasal bone straight into his brain with one thrust. He falls off me. Dead. I’ve never killed anyone before.

There’s no time to let this fact sink in. Quickly, I check his pockets and find a small knife and cell, but nothing else. No car keys. I cut off my cuffs and pick up the gun. Lucy barely registers it as I take off her restraints. She can’t take her eyes off the dead man. I flip open the phone and almost cry when I see a bar. As I dial Harry, I check out the windows to see if the coast is clear. No one on the platform.


Hello?

Harry asks.


Harry, it’s me,

I whisper.


Jo!


Look, he has us in an abandoned Metro station, I don’t know which one. The placard’s worn away. Try triangulating the cell, get the tower I’m using. There’s two of them, Ryder included. I’ll leave the phone on, but we’re making a break for it.


Jo, what—

I put the phone in my pocket and turn to Lucy.

Stay close and keep quiet.

Lucy and I pry the door open with a piece of the hot plate. I squeeze through first as quietly as possible with Lucy behind me. She runs down the platform as I cover the office door with the gun. When she’s halfway there, I sprint after her. So far so good. When my feet hit gravel, my right foot howls in pain from the gash. I wince but keep going, though the limp slows me a little. She reaches the car first, but the doors are locked. Shit. Having no choice, I smash the driver’s window with the butt of the gun. It shatters on the second attempt. As I unlock the door and push Lucy in, the office door opens. My heart beats double time. The lower panel with all the wires is already open, so I just have to connect the correct wires. My fucked-up childhood comes in handy sometimes.


Oh, God, they’re coming!

Lucy says.

I just keep rubbing until the car springs to life. When I sit up, a gunshot disintegrates the back window and cracks the front. Lucy shrieks, and I throw the car into gear and hit the gas hard, though I can barely see out through the cracked glass. Ryder and his goon keep shooting, the car jerking as they hit the back tire. Not taking my eyes off the road, I fire a few times out the back. I almost miss the turn and have to cut it too hard. The back of the car skids and hits the wall, shocking us, but I keep going. We both put on our seatbelts after that. I keep driving for a few seconds, the thumps of the flat tire overshadowing our labored breathing.

Harry, we’re in the tunnels driving a black Cadillac.

I make another turn.

I have no idea where we are, but—

BOOK: Justice
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