Chapter Twenty

CHAPTER TWENTY

Chicago

S he was still here. Barely.

It had taken her over two hours to get the food the guard had dropped outside her cage. She’d had to create a pole and a hook using the wire from her bucket, her toothbrush, and one of the old milkshake cups. It hadn’t been pretty, and she’d been worn out and sweating a river by the time she’d gotten the bag within grasp of her fingers. She’d tried to get the shake but had ended up spilling most of it on the floor before she could retrieve it. All in all, it had been an infuriating and humbling experience, and if the guard had stayed to watch, he would have thoroughly enjoyed the show.

Had she messed up? Had he not bought her act? Even now, looking back on it, she couldn’t see where she got it wrong. So what if he’d called the old man and told him she wanted to talk—he hadn’t relented. At least not yet.

She wasn’t giving up, though.

The burger, fries, and shake hadn’t come in a couple of days. Thankfully, it had rained last night, so she’d been able to stay hydrated. It was the lack of food that was starting to wear her down.

She didn’t believe death was their plan for her, so at some point, they would return. This whole experience was to humble her, and while she had no choice but to play their game, she thoroughly intended to reverse the situation.

Noises sounded, and she winced because, like Pavlov’s dog, her stomach started making horrific growling sounds. She moved as far away from the cage door as possible, placing herself in a corner. This time, she’d give them another performance—this one would put the other one to shame. This time, there would be no doubt in their minds that she had learned her lesson. They would be in awe of how powerful they’d been to break her will. She would do what she had to do to convince them that she’d spill every secret and give anything to get out of here.

Even as hungry as she was, the thought of eating another burger and fries held little appeal. Not that it mattered. She would accept it with gratitude and show absolute humility. They would see her as a broken, pitiful doll and let her out of here. Then…then she would reveal to them who Jasmine McAlister really was. They wouldn’t know what hit them.

“Okay, little girl. Here’s how this is going to go.”

Instead of one man today, there were two. The same two who had abducted her. And instead of a meal for her, each held a bucket filled with water.

“Boss wants to see how much you’ve learned, but he wants you clean first.” Kip, as she’d learned from his call last time, grinned that evil grin she couldn’t wait to wipe off his face. “And we get to be your cleaners.”

Oh hell no. These creeps were not going to touch a hair on her head…or anywhere else, for that matter.

Standing, she maintained her look of humility and fear as they opened the cage and headed toward her. Bracing her hands on the wall, she allowed them to come closer. And then she attacked. She went for the biggest one first, who was Kip. Moving with swift precision, she double-kicked, hitting his crotch both times. The bucket dropped to the floor, water gushed everywhere, and Kip fell to his knees, screaming bloody murder.

The other man reacted quickly, but instead of dropping his water, he threw the entire bucket at her. Any other time, she might have appreciated being drenched with clean water, but not when she was fighting for her life.

Refusing to let it stop her, she barreled toward him, screeching like a banshee at the top of her lungs. When she’d lived on the streets, she had learned that a well-timed screech could throw someone off their game. The startled expression on his face told her she’d freaked him out. Taking advantage, she struck quickly, jamming one fist into his nose and the other to the side of his jaw. His howl almost made her wince. This was the same guy whose nose she’d broken not too long ago.

Knowing he was addled, she grabbed the gun out of the holster at his waist. The open door beckoned, and sweet freedom was only a few steps away.

“Come back here, bitch!” one of the men roared.

Not looking back, Jazz practically flew through the door. She heard shots and felt stings on her hip, thigh, and leg but refused to let that slow her down. Getting out was her only priority, and if it took breathing her last breath to escape, then that’s what she would do.

A bullet slammed into the wall, six inches from her head.

“The next one goes through your skull,” he snarled. “Now put the gun down and get on your knees.”

No way was she doing any such thing. Dropping into a squat, Jazz whirled around and took her own shot. The bullet landed exactly where she wanted it—right in the middle of his forehead. Kip’s face registered extreme shock a second before he fell onto the concrete floor.

She turned the gun on the other man, who held up one hand, while covering his nose with the other one. Blood continued to poor from his damaged nose, but he managed to mumble, “Don’t shoot. I’m unarmed.”

“Do what I say, and you’ll live. Using your left hand, slide your phone toward me.”

“Okay. Give me a sec.”

“Clock’s ticking, asshole. I’ve got no problem shooting you and taking the phone for myself. I’m giving you one chance.”

She watched as he slowly pulled a phone from his pocket and slid it forward. When it barely went a foot, she knew he was still planning on trying to stop her.

Pain in her hip and leg were becoming problematic, so she was thankful for the adrenaline that continued to surge through her. Pain she could handle.

Stumbling only slightly, she made her way forward, the gun trained directly on the man’s chest. She didn’t want to have to kill him, because she needed answers. Having no idea where the man responsible for all this lived, she was counting on getting what she needed from this guy.

Moving faster than she could have anticipated, the man went for his ankle. Jazz had only a second to see the bulge of his backup weapon before it was in his hand. She fired, hitting the man in the chest.

The minute he went down, all strength left Jazz’s body. Her legs went wobbly, and she crumpled to the floor. The two dead men were only a few feet away from her, but for some reason they seemed to be moving farther and farther away. She blinked rapidly, realizing she was about to pass out. That could not happen.

Getting to her knees, Jazz gritted her teeth as she crawled toward the phone. She knew it was only a couple of feet from her, but it seemed like a mile. The pain was becoming excruciating, and she knew if she looked over her shoulder, she’d see a trail of blood.

With one last gasp of energy, Jazz grabbed the phone and swiped it on. She was thankful when she saw that the man had enabled facial recognition rather than a PIN to unlock his phone. Another adrenaline rush went through her. She was so close to getting help. She just needed to hang on for a few more seconds. Scooting closer to the man, she held the phone in front of his face. When the screen changed, her heart almost exploded in her chest.

Telling herself she could do it, Jazz stood and stumbled out of the enclosure. No way was she staying in this hellhole any longer. When she spotted the front door, she hobbled forward and, with one last surge of energy, practically threw herself through the opening.

She landed on the pavement on her side, several feet from the building. Her strength now completely demolished, Jazz lay on her uninjured side and tapped the phone icon on the screen. Her fingers shaking, her mind blurring, she managed to tap the nine digits that would get her to the one person who would tear the world apart to get to her.

She prayed he would answer.