Strike at Midnight(91)

He slammed the hatch door shut and I banged the wood just as it closed.

“You fucking pieces of shit!” I shouted, my frustration almost reaching a breaking point. I could hear their laughter waning through the thick wooden door as they walked away, and tears of anger prickled at the back of my eyelids. I bet they hadn’t even tried to fucking contact Sir Raymond. They were more concerned that they could get rid of their competition through bypassing a trial and having me hung in the city.

Hangings in Carena weren’t common, so they would wait until they had enough criminals to do it in one hit. It was less of a cost and hassle that way, so who knew when my so-called hanging would be? It could be in a few weeks or tomorrow morning, depending on the crime rate of Carena. And my fate was to be decided by that stupid, stupid, pig-faced shit.

The growl escaped my throat as I kicked the door a few times to try and get some form of release from my anger, but it didn’t help. The rushes were no cushion for my butt as I dropped down on the floor in defeat, but I barely felt it as the hopelessness came flowing over me like a waterfall.

What if Marcel or Sir Raymond didn’t find out where I was in time? What if Ham was speaking the damn truth about the hanging and this wasn’t all some big joke to show me who was the boss? What if, what if, what if…

I grabbed a pile of rushes and threw them at the wall as the exhaustion from what had happened in the past few days assailed me. This case had been one hell of a head fuck from the beginning, and if I could go back in time and kick myself for such stupid judgment in taking it on, then I would. But that wasn’t possible. I had gotten involved in something way over my head, and now I was facing the hangman’s noose for it. This was all just a big pile of crap from a horse’s ass, and I’d had enough.

It took little effort to flop down on the rushes and close my eyes, and this time, I would welcome any nightmares. The damn things weren’t so scary when I was smack bang in the middle of one, and I was happy to embrace the sleep that eventually claimed me.





*



“Rella?” I heard a voice say. It was filtering through into that place where you’re kind of awake, but not, and I had to wonder where the hell I was for a second.

The fact that I was in a cell and my life was potentially hanging in the balance came rushing back to me in a matter of moments. I sat up half asleep to try and understand who it was who was saying my name.

“Rella?” the voice said again, and I managed to gather enough sleep-clogged mind power to look up at the hatch in the door.

“What?” I asked, forcing my eyes fully open so I could see who wanted to throw an insult at me this time.

“Oh, thank goodness,” the voice said, and I blinked a few times to see that it was Marcel’s face staring back at me through the small hatch.

“Marcel,” I said, getting up as fast as I could manage and practically falling against the door. “You’ve got to get me out of here.”

“We’re working on it,” he whispered, “but it’s only the bribe of Sir Raymond that has gotten me this far. He paid them to let me visit you for a few moments, but they won’t give me long.”

“Shit, Marcel,” I said, hooking my fingers over the edge of the hatch. He covered them with his own. “Are they really planning on hanging me?”

“That’s what it looks like. Even though Sir Raymond is arguing the point. But they’re saying without any evidence against Lord Peacock, you’re the guilty party and they must abide by that.”

“But this is bullshit,” I said, panicking that he may be resigning himself to my fate. “You know I wouldn’t do this. I just found the body and they conveniently showed up at the same time. Why are they so eager to point the finger at me?”

“I don’t know. But this might be a way for them to get rid of you and have a potential bribe to hang over Lord Peacock if they ever catch up to him. You know how they work.”

I did know how they worked, and this stupid turn of events shouldn’t have surprised me as much as it did. Of course, it wasn’t a joke that Ham was playing on me. He really planned on having me hung.

“If I ever get out of here, I’ll kill him,” I said, not sure if I meant Ham or Peacock. Both were pretty much in my firing line at this moment.

“Listen,” Marcel said, “we’re working hard to try and find Lord Peacock, and Sir Raymond is bringing his men in on this. We’ll find him and make him admit the truth, I promise.”

“And if you don’t…” I dared to say.

“Then you know what will happen next,” he replied with a look in his eyes that told me exactly what would be happening if they couldn’t find Lord Peacock in time. He was telling me that he would risk all and everything to come and rescue me, the silly ass, and tears filled my eyes at the thought of it. How could I have even had the thought that he would have resigned himself to me being hung? I was such a stupid idiot.

“I love you,” I said, giving his fingers a little squeeze, and he squeezed them back.

“I love you, too,” he said, dropping a kiss on them. “But only in a sweet brotherly way. Don’t think I want to get on that ass of yours.”

His words made me chuckle like he had expected them to, and I was grateful for it.

“Thanks, Brother,” I said, and I let his fingers go.