“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.