Even the Score(87)

“Hang on! Shouldn’t we call the police? Or at least wait for Andy to get here?” Ellie exclaimed.

“There’s no time!” I hollered back as the elevator doors closed.

My stomach rolled like I might puke, and my foot tapped nervously on the carpeted elevator floor as the I watched the numbers light up lower and lower.

Please tell me Jerry called the police already.

Please let Andy already be down there, catching the asshole.

Please, please, please let this be over.

Finally, after what felt like an hour, the doors opened and I sprinted through the quiet lobby, not at all surprised to see Jerry’s desk sitting empty. I rushed through the doors, out into the parking garage, and headed straight for my car. I was so focused I didn’t even see the man standing quietly on the other side of the concrete column, but I felt the burn of his punch as it blasted square against the right side of my jaw. My whole body went sailing in the other direction, landing against the ground with a violent thud. Blood filled my mouth as I tried to scramble to my feet, but everything was spinning, and I could barely lift my head off the ground. I turned and tried to make out the face of the figure dressed in all black, but everything was too blurry. I blinked a couple of times and was able to focus just in time to see the outline of a leg flying toward me. I covered my face with my hands and tried to turn away, crying out in pain as his shoe connected hard with my left hand, making a loud popping sound.

My hand went numb and pain shot through my jaw like a lightning bolt as I curled up in a ball and screamed, praying that someone—anyone—would hear me and come help. My cries stopped instantly as his foot slammed against my stomach, and suddenly I was gasping for air.

“You should’ve quit!” he growled as he kicked me again, even harder than the first time.

Every single nerve in my body hurt like hell, and I felt like I was drowning without being anywhere near a drop of water. I moved my hands slightly, hell-bent on getting a look at him, but just as I did, his fist crashed hard against my eye—and everything went black.





CHAPTER 33

Andy

My car almost tilted on two wheels as I zipped around the corner, desperate to get to Dani. A frenzied call from Ellie a couple of minutes before saying something about a text from Jerry and a guy at Dani’s car sent my body—and my car—into overdrive. I’d blown two stoplights and almost taken out a least six squirrels, but I refused to slow down. As I turned the last corner, my adrenaline shot through the roof when I saw the two squad cars blocking the entrance to the garage.

Oh, thank God. Hopefully they caught him.

My tires squealed as I slammed on my brakes and jumped out of the car without even taking my key out of the ignition. I ran right past a skinny, twentysomething officer, who held his hand up for me to stop. My eyes darted around. There were tons of people, tons of officers, and an ambulance parked up the ramp a little ways.

Why the fuck is an ambulance here?

Ellie waved at me as I hurried toward the group of people. As I got closer, I could see that her eyes were red like she’d been crying, and she had black makeup under them.

“What the hell is going on?” I didn’t wait for her to answer as I made my way through the group, gently pushing people aside. When I got to the front of the group, I froze. A pool of what looked like blood was on the concrete, and several EMTs and police officers were loading a stretcher into the back of the ambulance. With my eyes fixated down at the blood, I didn’t look at Ellie when I felt her walk up next to me. “Whose is that?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her shake her head without responding.

My head shot up and I stalked toward the ambulance.

A police officer standing near the ambulance put his hand on my chest as I walked up. “Sir, we need you to get back, please.”

“That’s my girlfriend,” I argued.

He nodded. “I understand, sir, but the men need to do their job right now. I need you to stay back here with me.”

I looked him straight in the eye. “What happened to her? Can you just tell me that?” I pleaded.

“It appears she was attacked. We’re still trying to figure everything out.”

“Do you know who attacked her?”

“Yeah. A security guard was inside. He heard a noise, came out here, and found that guy”—he pointed toward the back of a police car—“kicking her in the stomach. Guard fought with him and, along with a couple of other guys, held him until we got here.”

Kicking her in the stomach? I wanted to vomit. That alone was enough to make my blood run hot, but the blood on the ground had to have been caused by something else, so I knew there was more to it.