With the pull of a chain, a single bulb illuminates the space around us. I want to roll my eyes at how cliché all of it is.
I wiggle in my seat, my stomach sinking at the realization that it’s secured to the concrete floor below my feet. The smell of bleach fills my nostrils and only furthers the panic that courses through me.
Someone was killed here. And the mess was cleaned up.
It’s very possible that my life will end here, too.
The only thing on my mind is the regret of not making it back to Johnny in time, to tell him the truth, and to come clean about everything between us. Our last memory can’t be of us fighting.
The brown-eyed guy hands the other a tablet. “Here, you figure it out.”
My sights take in the other man, much younger than his partner, probably close to my age, maybe a little older. He casts a glance at me and focuses on his task. Regret hangs in his blue eyes. He’s well aware that what he’s doing is fucked up, but he goes along with it anyway, probably knowing he has no other choice.
With a final click of a button, ringing sounds, followed by the connection of a call.
He flips the thing around, and my suspicions are finally confirmed.
“Claire Cooper.”
A chill creeps up my spine. I’ve never actually seen him before, but he’s exactly how Johnny had described.
“Franklin,” I greet him.
He brings a cigar to his lips, taking a drag and letting the smoke billow from his mouth. Slowly, he places it in a crystal dish and leans back into his chair. He’s sitting at a table with white linen, hideous red and black paper lining the wall behind him.
Oh, what I wouldn’t give to hop through and wring his neck for what he did to Johnny.
“So, you do know who I am.” A wicked grin snakes its way up his face. “Quite the elaborate setup you and Mr. Jones pulled off.”
I tighten my jaw but don’t say anything.
“Listen, Claire, you and I…we have no qualms. Sure, you helped orchestrate Johnny’s escape, but I’m willing to put that aside and spare your life.” Franklin drums his fingers on the table. “The things you kids do forpuppy love.” He lets out a grave chuckle.
Is he really insinuating what Johnny and I share is comparable to a juvenile crush?
Brown-eyed guy repositions himself, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
Franklin continues, “All I want is Johnny. It’s that simple.”
Finally, I ready myself to speak. “You killed him.” It’s not entirely a lie. Johnny and I both died a little that day.
“You actually expect me to believe that?” Franklin leans forward. “You think I didn’t have my nephew followed?” His tone is condescending, as if I should know what he’s talking about.
“Your nephew?”
Franklin laughs dryly. “Josey.”
Josey? What does he have to do with anything? Is he here? Is that why Johnny has been so fucking weird lately? Because he’s been meeting with Josey? Johnny isn’t foolish enough to make such a stupid mistake, is he?
He trusts Josey, and Franklin played right into that. If anyone could squeeze him out, other than me, of course it would be Josey.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Which is the honest to God truth.
Franklin nods at the cruel man standing in front of me.
The guy steps forward, draws his arm back and slams it against my face.
Sharp pain spreads through me, and hot sticky liquid runs down my chin. I jut out my tongue to feel the split in my lip then clench my jaw through the pain. I refuse to show them any weakness.