Unbreakable (City Lights, #2)(29)

“Yeah, okay, I can do this. I don’t need that prick watching my every move,” he said, working himself up. He kept too far out of reach for me to charge him again.

I fought for calm, inhaled deeply, moved slowly. Wolfman could have been lying but I didn’t think so. I couldn’t guess why he was helping me, but I’d worry about that later. If I had a later.

“Get…uh, over there.” Frankie gestured with his gun for me to get in the middle of the small room, which looked to be an unused office. Chair, desk, lamp, and not much else.

My blood thrashed in my ears as each second brought me closer to finding out if Wolfman had been telling the truth. Frankie kept his distance, trained his weapon on me, and I knew then that if I survived, this moment would haunt my sleep forever.

Frankie said nothing and neither did I. I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of seeing me beg or plead. I knew I couldn’t talk him out of it but I wasn’t going to give up without a fight either.

“On your knees!” Frankie shrieked and moved just close enough.

I charged.

I expected to feel the punch of bullets in my chest and stomach but the small room resounded with a series of clicks as Frankie frantically pulled the trigger. I stumbled for a second as relief swamped me, making me shudder, and then barreled into him full tilt.

I grabbed the rifle and tore it off him. Swinging it like a baseball bat, I whacked his right hand as he held them up in a pitiful display of self-protection. Bones crunched and he let out a cry, like a wounded dog. I swung the other way, slamming the butt of the gun into his left hand. It struck true and he howled.

Frankie fell to his knees, holding his mangled hands in front of him, crying and staring as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. Three of the fingers on his right hand were bent at wrong angles and turning purple. The thumb and index finger on his left looked stuffed—the skin stretched and shiny. He can’t touch her now, I thought, satisfied. Whatever happens to me, he can’t touch her.

He looked up at me with leaking eyes. “Why…?”

“Why?” I tossed the gun aside, disgusted. “I’m keeping a promise.”

He moaned. I don’t even know if he heard me. Wolfman returned, nodding as if satisfied.

Frankie held his swollen hands up. “Look! Look what he did!”

“Get out of here, Frankie.” Wolfman sounded tired.

“But…he…”

“Get out!”

The other man scrambled out, sniffling, without even a parting threat to me.

I looked at Wolfman. “Why?”

“He’s a tweaker. Connor—Dracula to you—he knows that. He had to bring Frankie along, and made me his babysitter. But Drac’s not dumb enough to give a tweaker a loaded AR, and Frankie’s too hopped up to know the difference.”

“Yeah, okay, but why warn me? Why let this stupid shit play out? Why not kill me yourself?”

Wolfman sighed. “Drac wanted to keep Frankie busy and f*ck with you for lying about the phone. It’s all just…madness. Not what I signed up for.”

“It’s almost over, isn’t it?” I asked.

He nodded. “Things aren’t going too great for us. Killing a hostage right now would be…not good. I almost think Connor was hoping you’d kill Frankie. One less thing to worry about.”

“Drac can’t do it himself?” I shuddered. “He seems capable.”

“It’s his little brother.” Wolfman waved a hand. “I’ve said enough. You’re going to stay in here. I’ll keep an eye out, smooth things over, but like I said, we got our hands full.”

“Tell her…tell them, my group, that I’m okay,” I said. “Please.”

Wolfman sighed again and scrubbed his hand over his face. “I will. But listen, tomorrow…Shit’s going to go down. I can’t protect you anymore. I can’t protect anyone, okay? I’ve already done more than I should.”

“Thanks.”

He took Frankie’s gun and went out, leaving me to wonder about tomorrow. It sounded like the standoff would end, but not in a good way. Not for the hostages.

I leaned against the wall and sank down, my muscles finally giving out from fear and adrenaline. I rested my hands on my knees, my head bowed. I felt sleep come for me at once, I was so exhausted, and I let myself fall away, one thought lingering. Alex was still in danger.

I still had work to do.





Chapter Twelve


Alex



I watched them march Cory out of the room and my knees buckled like the weak, spineless wimp that I was. Why hadn’t I fought harder? My wrists throbbed where Frankie had twisted them, but what was that to what Cory was about to endure? Blown to pieces by that psycho. The horror of it made want to vomit.

I knelt in the middle of the room, the other hostages staring at me. No one spoke. We were all waiting for the sounds of gunfire. My lip curled.

“Cowards,” I seethed. “You’re all cowards. You did nothing! You just let them take him!” I heard the words, knew they were completely unfair, but the pain was becoming a monster in my gut, screaming to get out.

Carol moved to me, gathered me in her arms and I collapsed into her motherly embrace. She didn’t say anything to comfort me and somewhere, in the back of my mind, I appreciated it. There was nothing she could say to make this appalling situation any better and she knew it.