Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

CARA

R hett's eyes are droopy and he can barely keep them open, but a shimmer of life returned to them the moment he locked eyes on me. We're exchanging glances, and I'm trying to tell him that I have a plan. My eyes flick to the massive tanks of liquid fluorine I found scattered throughout the warehouse. It took me a few minutes of searching, but I was able to gather enough supplies to hopefully knock over one of those tanks and burn through the wooden pillars holding a platform of chemicals above the two remaining men.

Using the ratchet strap and some rope that I found, I tie the rope around a tank, then hook the ratchet strap to the rope. I pull the strap tight as I lead it toward a thick metal bar that I'll use to tip over the tank. As long as the strap doesn't break and they don't hear me tightening it, I think this will work.

Looping the hook on the other side of the ratchet strap to the metal bar, I pull it snug before cranking the ratchet lever back and forth, putting strain on the strap. It continues to tighten, and the clicks of the ratchet get louder, so I have to slow my pace, letting it tick less noticeably. The barrel of fluorine begins to tip, and I'm struggling to move the ratchet. Using all of my weight, I force the ratchet back again, then push it forward as hard as I can one last time.

The final shove is all I needed to knock the tank over, and it comes crashing toward me, spilling its contents all over the floor and toward the wooden pillars. Yellow gas spreads through the immediate area, and I cover my face with my shirt to stop myself from inhaling it.

"What the fuck was that?" the man in charge barks.

I take off, circling around them between the shadows of the warehouse. The two men take off in the direction of the spilt chemical, cursing at one another as they run.

"Randy!" one of them yells. "Is that you?"

"What the fuck is this shit?" the other spits.

There's no time to stop and breathe, so I dart into the open while they're distracted, pulling my knife out as I run. Rhett's sitting there, tied up, but ready for me. He's in bad shape, but he's alive, and I know he'll fight to get us out of here.

"What are you doing here?" he whispers, his voice full of worry.

I look up while cutting at Rhett's ropes, anticipating the quick return of the two men. "I couldn't leave you."

"You shouldn't be here," Rhett's voice is almost bitter, but I hear the subtle undertone of relief. "They'll kill us both if they catch you here."

"They were going to kill you regardless, so now we're in this together," I admit as the blade slides through the last few fibers, freeing him from the chair.

As Rhett struggles to stand, the man's voice is low and raspy, sending chills through my entire body. "Did you really think that would work?"

Rhett and I both look up, our eyes landing on the man. He's on the shorter side, dressed in a white button up and dark grey slacks, held up by a fancy leather belt. His dark hair is combed back with gel and his face is cleanly shaven, giving him a sharp look.

"Let her leave. She has nothing to do with this, Demarko," Rhett says, raising his hands in submission.

Demarko lets out an amused chuckle, cracking each of his knuckles one at a time. The man standing beside Demarko is taller and thinner with a less clean look, and he's obviously this guy's bitch. I break out in a slight sweat when the bitch pulls out a gun, pointing it directly at me from across the room.

"Leave her the fuck alone," Rhett spits, venom in his voice. "She doesn't know anything."

"Her being here proves she knows too much," Demarko disagrees.

Sweat beads at my temples under the pressure of being held at gunpoint. I have that gun in the back of my pants, but there's no way I'll be able to pull it out before this guy plants ten bullets in my chest. The smell of fluorine gas hits my nose, burning my eyes as I inhale it. That gas is our only chance at escape before these two murder us.

The scent of the gas gets stronger, and I know it's working. The seconds tick by, and I know it can't be much longer before it erodes the wooden pillar enough to bring it crashing down, along with the rest of the chemicals on the platform above them.

"You thought she could get you out of this?" the bitch laughs, giving me a pathetic look, then returning his eyes to Rhett.

The platform behind them creaks, and I almost let out a nervous laugh. It's working. It's actually fucking working.

"Where's Randy?" Rhett cocks a brow, looking around.

Demarko steps forward, clutching his fists at his side as his glare burns into me. "Where the fuck is Randy? What did you do to him?"

I swallow, trying to push away the tears rising to my eyes. Now isn't the time to show weakness. The platform is well on its way to crumbling, I just need to stall. We can get through this.

"Choking on his blood out front," I admit, casually shrugging my shoulders. "He was dead before he hit the ground."

Demarko looks me up and down, finally observing the blood that coats my clothes. "You fucking bitch," he shakes. "You're going to die for that."

The man beside Demarko is turning red and he's got a wild look in his eye. He's going to blow any second.

The platform behind them creaks again, but they don't hear it. I touch Rhett's arm, pushing him backward as I take a step with him. We're too close. The wooden pillar whines as it begins to give, and I shove Rhett back harder.

"Stop fucking moving," the bitch screams, spit spraying from his big mouth.

"Put a bullet in her forehead," Demarko orders the man beside him.

He cocks the gun, then extends his arm toward me, but he's too late. The platform above them comes toppling down, and the gun goes off. Rhett uses the last of his strength to jump in front of me, shielding my body, but the weight of the crash knocks the gun to the side and the round zips past our heads. I scream as it happens, clutching onto Rhett before I realize he missed us. The bitch is dead before he knows what's happening.

Demarko manages to get out of the way, but some of the liquid fluorine splashes him as it hits the ground. He hisses in pain, and before I can stop him, Rhett's on top of him. Fists are flying, and they're right next to a huge pile of chemical burning into the ground. The fluorine on Demarko is spreading between them, burning both men as they fight.

My hands go to my hair, pulling on it as I try to figure out how to help Rhett. He's going to get himself killed if he falls into the chemicals. Demarko is quite a bit smaller than Rhett, but Rhett's in bad shape and shouldn't be fighting right now. He probably has at least a few broken bones and he's lost a lot of blood.

I try to jump in and hold Demarko down, but Rhett pushes me back. Demarko is distracted for half a second, and Rhett gets Demarko's face down on the floor. With what strength he has left, Rhett shoves Demarko's face into the thick pile of liquid fluorine, and it burns his face instantly, releasing yellow gas as it eats his flesh.

Demarko screams, flailing his arms, but the liquid fluorine is too fast. The chemicals eat deeper, opening his head and exposing his skull, and then shortly after, his brain. Demarko passes out from extreme pain, and the chemical does the rest. He'll be dead in seconds. The acid is in his skull, and he won't survive.

Rhett staggers to his feet, and I loop my arms around his to steady him and pull him away from the chemicals and gas. I look him over quickly, finding a few burns, but there's no time to linger. The gas is spreading and we'll be unconscious right alongside Demarko soon.

Pulling Rhett toward the exit, I say, "We need to get out of here! The gas will kill us if we don't leave in the next few seconds."

"I have to grab some files," Rhett argues, limping toward a desk on the far side of the warehouse.

"Forget the files, Rhett. We need to go," I beg, looking toward the exit.

"It'll just take a second. The job isn't finished without them."

He makes it to the desk, shuffling through them for a moment before taking a large handful of files. Pulling out a lighter from his back pocket, he sparks it, then holds it to the pile of papers he left on the desk. They go up in flames instantly, and because of the fumes in the air, the fire spreads quickly. The entire warehouse will go down in flames within the next few minutes.

"Let's go," Rhett finally nods, letting me be his crutch as he limps out of the warehouse.

Rhett pulls out his phone as we emerge from the warehouse, quickly punching a few buttons before holding it to his ear. I can hear it ringing as I pull him along, trying to get us the fuck out of here before someone comes back and finds this mess.

A male voice answers, but it's muffled to my hearing.

He's serious when he's talking to whoever is on the other side. "There were a few complications, but I got the files we needed. The rest of the warehouse is going up in flames as we speak."

A glass window explodes on the side of the warehouse, making me duck and flinch when the noise hits my ears. Rhett remains unphased, but turns to look at the massive wall of flames erupting from the warehouse.

"I'll leave the files at the drop point, and then the job is done. Demarko and two of his guys are dead."

The deep male voice talks for a moment, and Rhett listens intently. Ending the call, he shoves his phone back into his pocket.

His voice is gruff as he turns to me and says, "They'll get this cleaned up. We need to go into hiding. The Don Leon cartel will be looking for us. Demarko was important and they'll want answers. They won't stop until they've found us and we're dead."

I stop walking, turning to face him and look him in the eye. "You need to go to the hospital, Rhett. You've lost too much blood and you're still bleeding. And the way you're breathing tells me you've probably got at least a few broken ribs too."

He lets out a pained laugh, pushing past me and dragging me with him. "I'll be fine, little nightmare. We need to focus on what we're going to do next. It won't take them long to find this."

I open my mouth to argue, but when I see the look on his face, I close it. I can't argue with him. There's nothing I can say to get through his thick head and convince him to go to the hospital. The most I can do for him is tend to his wounds as soon as we get home, just like he tended to mine after Halloween.

When I don't say anything, Rhett eases the tension between us. "I just want to get my girl home and celebrate Friendsgiving with her. Besides," he says as he elbows me playfully. "I've got a pie to bake. We'll figure out the rest tomorrow after we've had time to think straight."

Looking around, I realize how dark it is now. When I first came down here it wasn't long after sunset, and now it's the dead of night. Most of the city lights in the distance are out now, and most of the small town population has gone to bed.

"I need to get you cleaned up before you even think about touching the food everyone is going to be eating. You can't be bleeding into the gravy," I tease, but I'm not that far off from the truth. He has a lot of cleaning up to do before he touches anything in the kitchen. "And I'm driving," I add.

Rhett cocks a brow, grinning at me. "You think you know how to drive my bike?"

Shrugging, I say, "I've done it once or twice. I know enough to get us home."

Home.

I say it like it's ours. Maybe that's because it feels like ours. We've spent so much time there together, making the memories that make a house truly feel like a home. Imagining being there without him just feels… lonely. That big house would feel too empty without him.

I thought he was nothing more than a monster, and maybe he is one, but he's my monster. I watched him, learning his monstrous ways, and now I've caved, succumbing to the darkness to fit in right beside him. Rhett didn't break me.

He found me.