"Yeah, well, kid? I think you will. Because if you don't, then I'm going to get to him, bring him back here, let him get his revenge on you via your little sister, and then I'll kill him myself. But you know I don't like killing people myself don't you?" he says coolly, and his words make me hate him more than anything else ever has.
Even Ryder doesn't piss me off this much.
"Ryder came here this morning, you know? Told me about the little stunt you pulled. And so now, you're going to finish the job, and then you're going to come back here, retrieve your little sister, and then..." he pauses, pacing in front of me, his arms folded.
He's not a muscular guy, but he's strong. I've seen him break people's fingers and hands just for pissing him off, but he always does it as a threat, not as an endgame. He leaves that to his lackeys. Like me.
Originally, the deal was that I could go free on the charges against me and take over Ryder's business, but I guess Axel's a smart enough guy to know that that isn't what I want anymore.
Still, his words surprise me.
"Once you finish up here, we're done. The DA will throw out the case, and you'll get the fuck out of here. Everyone wins," he says, offering his hands to heaven.
I sneer, the pain getting to me, so I just give a nod of my head.
"Let's get this done."
***
The cop drives me back to my place, and I grab a few things. Bullets, some cash left around, and a bit of clothing for Abby and myself. We're going to need it once we're out of here and trying to lay low.
I look in her drawers, the nightclub clothes she wears to work contrasting so much against the outfits she brought when she first moved in.
Prissy little blouses and skirts, all carefully pressed and folded, and I simply dump them in the backpack along with her laptop.
I sling it over my shoulder, look back at the world I'd made here, and walk away.
My bike's where I left it and I hop on.
Axel told me that Ryder was going to a doctor friend of his on the outskirts of town, and that he's going to be laying low there for a few days. He'll be alone for one hour, forty minutes from now, and I have to be there and take advantage of what might be my only opportunity to save Abigail and get us both out of this mess.
Usually riding my bike soothes me.
The wind whipping through my hair used to make me feel so free, but today it just feels like another burden. Another mask I have to wear to get what I want.
I drive the familiar roads, and I don't know how I'm going to do this. To actually pull the trigger? To see a man, living before me, and then take that from him?
Even though Ryder's an ass and deserves it, I just don't know that I can be the one to do it.
But I have to. That's what I have to do to save Abby, and that's what I'm going to do.
I stop outside the place, kicking down my stand and leaning my bike. I know he likely heard me coming up the gravel drive, but I still move slow and quiet, making sure that my steps don't make any more sound than they need to.
My gun's in my hands, cocked and ready, and I slow my breathing so that I can hear.
There's nothing, no sounds coming from out the open windows, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe he's asleep and up on pain meds. I did a number on his throat, and I can only imagine what a bitch that must be.
I go to the door and just as Axel promised, it's unlocked. Swinging it inwards I look around the aged kitchen, the table filled with drugs, and I have a bad feeling about this. If I'm caught here with a gun, that's going to be a lot more time than just three years.
This is fucking premeditated!
But I know better than to get stuck inside my head, and I shake off my fear and worries.
There's no use getting lost in my thoughts and fretting, that'll just get me killed.
I walk past the kitchen table, the smell of cat urine strong in the air as I move through to the living room. There's no one here, and I can hear the wheezing of someone just two doors down the hall.
This is it, I tell myself inwardly, psyching myself up.
I shake out my shoulders, loosening my arms as I make my way past the first bedroom. There's still the rhythmic wheezing, and I know that Ryder's in there, asleep.
Vulnerable.
The thought makes me sick to my stomach about what I've become but it doesn't matter. I keep going.
I nudge open the door, looking at him lying on the bed and point my gun. His chest rises and falls as he struggles to breathe, the bandage around his throat soaked with blood.
Last night I stared down the gun, pointed at his head, and I pulled the trigger. I was so close to snuffing him out, but I couldn't. And now I hesitate.
And then I lower my gun.
I can't do it. There's gotta be another way to save Abby. I know the warehouse inside and out, and if she's locked in his office, all I'd have to do is scale the building and get out. I walk down the hall, back towards the kitchen, my mind reeling.