at me by hurting her. What I want, though, is to slowly choke the life from him. To watch terror fill his eyes as I squeeze until the pumping of blood halts and his lank body goes limp. My fingers twitch at the possibility.
There are some men who are fueled by wealth and power, others by delivering consequences. Brass and I share this one thing in common: we’re both men who fit into the latter category.
Too much time has passed and we have two locations. The addresses stare back at me like the wires to a bomb, one red and one black.
Riggins is right. If we go to the wrong location, we’ll tip Brass off and he could flee before we get there. We could split up, but then we’re even more outmanned and outgunned.
Fuck! There’s no easy choice and we have to make a decision. Risk going to the wrong location and losing the element of surprise, or split up and risk being overrun. I slam my fist down on the cheap nightstand, and the particleboard splinters beneath the impact at the same time that my phone goes off.
I already know it’s Walsh, asking me a question I don’t have an answer to: Which address do we take?
Each second that ticks down on the clock is torturous as I scan the video for any other clues and come up empty. Delilah’s cries for help drown me in those moments. She wouldn’t need to cry out if I’d been there. If I’d protected her.
Once I decided I wanted her, I should have stolen her away.
I shouldn’t have trusted my brother. I should never have let him lay a hand on her. She was always mine to have. And I belonged to her.
I haven’t slept, I haven’t eaten. I’m a shell of a man without her.
Staring at the phone, at Walsh’s question I already knew was coming, I picture the two wires yet again. I can’t risk the wrong choice, not when her life’s on the line. There’s never been a moment since I made the decision to be the person I am where I’ve felt such despair and uncertainty.
A moment passes without a response from me and Walsh calls, the phone ringing in my hand. Swallowing thickly, I answer it.
I don’t know what to say, so I don’t say a damn thing.
“You there?” he asks and at that I respond, “Yeah. I’m here.”
“My partner is on his way. We can take the farthest address. Backup has been called. They’ll be coming in from the south, so taking the northernmost option will cover our asses if she’s at the south location. We’ll call it in and they’ll be there quicker than we can get there.”
The very thought of men I don’t know getting to Delilah first, risking they aren’t corrupt and needing to have faith that they’ll be able to save her … I can’t and won’t risk it. I can’t risk her simply being passed into the hands of another enemy.
“If you’re going north, I’ll take the south address.”
“What? No, we can’t split up.”
“We can and we have to,” I say, staring at the map Riggins laid out. He goes north while I take the south location. It’s on us to save her. Not a man I don’t know. She is everything to me, and who are they? They’re no one I know or trust.
“I’m calling it in,” he says, practically screaming on the end of the line as he stresses, “we need backup.”
“I’m not waiting,” I tell him.
“If they see you there—” The resentment that’s lain dormant surfaces.
“I don’t care.” We cut both wires. That’s my decision. It has to be done.
“Marcus. Don’t be stupid. We need more men.” My brother already sounds weak and defeated; I hate him for it. Almost as much as I hate the fact that Delilah loved him first.
“We don’t have time!” How does he not get it? Brass only had her beaten the first time. The man is an amoral sadist with no boundaries he won’t cross. Every minute is risking her. Risking further pain and suffering inflicted upon her and for what? For a better chance and better odds? I will save her. And my brother better be man enough to do the same. “Leave now. We don’t have any more time to waste.”
“Marcus … Brother, please, don’t do this.” The sound of Cody swallowing is audible, fear and pain choking him. Was he always this weak? Or is he only weak