Save Me from Dangerous Men (Nikki Griffin #1)(74)

She didn’t hesitate. “Leaving now.”

“When you arrive, Jess, don’t come up. That’s important.”

I gave her the address, hung up, turned to my brother. “Wait outside for her.”

His voice was unsteady but he could stand. “What are you going to do here?”

“You have to go, Brandon,” I said. “Now.”

He heard my tone. He went.

It took me a few minutes to tape up Victor. I was very thorough, cognizant of his abnormal strength. Even with bound hands and feet he would be a handful if awake. I wrapped him like a mummy, starting at his ankles, up to his trunk-like thighs, both arms cocooned down at his sides, and a nice wide strip across his mouth. I used just about the whole roll of tape. That was fine. I couldn’t think of anything else I’d need it for besides Victor.

I burned plenty of calories dragging him from bedroom to bathroom. He was a big guy. There was a lot to drag and it was all dead weight. He didn’t even mutter as his head banged hard along the wood floor and tiles. I hauled his legs over the bathtub rim, then shoved his torso over. He flopped into the tub, his legs following, and lay there on his back, eyes staring blankly upward.

I screwed the stopper into the drain and turned the faucet on.

Water began to puddle against the bottom of the tub.

I made another call. Another familiar number. Another familiar voice answered.

“It’s Nikki. I need a favor. I’m going to give you an address. Come over, fast. And bring a car you really hate.” Even if gunshots were commonplace I didn’t want to draw things out any more than I had to. Not after what had happened. And not with what I was about to do. The sooner I was out of the apartment, the better.

There was a brief pause and then the voice said, “I’ll be there in half an hour.”

“One more thing,” I added. “The car you bring. Make sure it has a big trunk.”

I went into the bathroom and sat on the toilet seat, watching as the water line crept up. Thinking about Karen Li. The cabin. The water rose higher. Now it was above the back of Victor’s head, submerging his ears. Nearing his mouth and nostrils. His eyes were still blank. He made no attempt to struggle. He looked like he was lying on silk pillows, being fanned by palm fronds. Blasted onto some other planet. Full of the weird, impenetrable bliss of heroin.

He’d drown literally without knowing that he was underwater.

I thought of Karen Li again. The cut on her hand. The broken pane of glass that was as close as she had gotten to escape. The bloodstained crowbar. Her shattered arm and broken face. Begging for mercy where there was none.

I took another look at Victor. His face was serene.

Somehow, it didn’t seem fair.

I shut the water off.

Went into the living room, came back, and grabbed Victor by the back of his long hair. I held his head up and shoved the second tube of naloxone up his nostril. Again, the effect was instantaneous. He thrashed around in the bathtub like some huge, hooked fish. His bound legs made loud thuds as they kicked against the tub. I was glad I had used extra tape. His desire to get out of the tub was extreme. And he was very strong.

I made my way to the edge of the bathtub and looked down. He rolled his head around and glared up at me out of reddened, open eyes. Very much conscious. Full of the immediate sickness of withdrawal that the naloxone produced. He mumbled something around the tape. I couldn’t understand what he was saying but I got the general message. I didn’t suppose he was wishing me good things. As the exact nature of his location sunk in, the thrashing increased. His head jerked back and forth, banging hard against the sides of the bathtub. He didn’t seem to care. Water splashed onto the floor.

“Victor,” I said.

Somehow the mention of his name set him off again. More thrashing, more mumbling, more splashing.

“Victor. Pay attention. Please. I’ll only talk for a moment. Then I’ll leave you alone.”

He scowled up at me.

“Who hired you guys, Victor?” I leaned down and ripped the tape off his mouth. Waited for him to temporarily run out of curse words.

“Who hired you?” I asked again.

It turned out he had a few words left. That was okay. I could wait.

“Who told you to kill Karen Li? Who told you to come after me?”

He glared up. “I don’t know. Joseph handles all that.”

“You must know something. Try to meet me halfway.”

“Lots of people use us. We do lots of jobs. Joseph handles the bookings.”

I held the H&K up so he could see it, and smiled brightly down at him. “I bet right now you wish you’d brought some dinky little .22 with you, right? Instead of this cannon?”

He stared furiously at me. I didn’t feel he was getting my point.

“How’d you get my gun?” he demanded. “Where’s Joseph? Where’s Theo?”

“Joseph left,” I answered. “He was in a hurry. Theo, I believe, is still here.”

“I want to talk to them.”

“Who hired you, Victor?”

“Go to hell, bitch,” he said. “I’m not scared of you.”

“Victor. Please. A little common sense. Are you sure you want to talk like that to someone pointing a .45 your way?”

“Go to hell,” he repeated. He added a few words that made “bitch” sound mild.