Fuck.
Pulling the gun from my waistband, I pull the chamber back loading a bullet into the chamber.
“Follow me,” I exhale. We aren’t going out of here without a fight.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Jillian
HE STEPS AHEAD OF ME, my chest rising and falling rapidly as my heart pounds against my chest in fear. Zeek fires his gun at the cop who tries to climb up, and he falls back. I scream. The killer that Zeek is capable of becoming at a moment’s notice rearing up at full force.
He isn’t going to let them take us without a fight.
Two more pop up in the hole, and Zeek fires his gun again. One falls back but the other continues forward, attacking Zeek like a football player. They both go through the ceiling, falling to the ground. Zeek struggles with the cop fighting to retrieve the gun. Movement catches my eyes behind me, another cop coming towards me. Grabbing my arm I punch him in the throat, causing him to fall back. Looking for a way to escape I find a small window about ten feet from where I am. Staying on the boards I walk quickly toward the window, hoping there will be something to break my fall once I climb out. As soon as my fingertips touch the windowsill, an arm is wrapped around my neck pulling me backward. Slamming my foot into the person’s knee cap he screams, falling to his ass. Taking my shot, I grip the arm that had hold of me and twist it breaking it with a loud crack.
Screams of pain ricochet through the attic as I let his arm go and look toward the window. The butt of a gun from another cop comes into my line of sight right before it strikes me in the face, knocking me to the floor.
“Goddamn, she can fight.” A voice echoes. My head throbs and I feel nauseous. I try to move my arms to fight back, but I’m too disoriented. My body is picked up like it weighs nothing, and I’m thrown over a shoulder. My head bobs as they take me down into the main area of the club. Zeek comes into focus handcuffed to the bar.
“You fucking let her go!” he demands, he’s practically foaming at the mouth. His face is red, near purple, veins protruding on his forehead. “Take me! My uncle wants me!”
“Zeek.” I try to yell his name, but it comes out sounding weak and pitiful.
“I swear to God, I’ll fucking kill you if you hurt her.” He yanks hard at the cuffs, and Deputy Orlando Needon chuckles. How did he get here? He’s a scumbag from my department who has been trying to get me into his bed since I started working with him. He’s a prick, and if I believed anyone was dirty in my department, it’d be him.
“Oh, there will be hurt, there will be lots of pain, Zeeky boy.” Orlando rams the end of his gun into Zeek’s side, making him cough in pain.
“Stop,” I croak, trying to lift myself from the shoulder I’m on but fail miserably. My world spins with the effort, my surroundings darkening as everything goes black.
Zeek
JILLIAN’S LIMP BODY BOBS and jerks as they leave, my wrist bleeding and bruised as I yank and pull on the cuffs attached to the fucking bar. The side of my shirt is soaked with blood from the stitches being torn open, but I could care less about any of the pain. The only thing I feel is the rage and fear growing in my chest. It’s fucking unbearable.
“JILLIAN!” I scream, hoping she can hear me.
“Get me out of these fucking cuffs!” I roar, pulling as hard as I can.
Everyone is still zip tied or handcuffed, they didn’t let any of us loose.
“Wait, I think I almost got it,” Bobby says, pulling his feet up to his hands. He’s on his belly, his hands and feet zip tied.
He pulls at his pant leg, and pulls out a knife. He releases his legs with a deep sigh, and starts working on getting his body to roll over so he can sit up. He rocks, bending his knees awkwardly.
“Come on!” I demand, my eyes flicking between the door and him. I’m never going to know which way they went if he doesn’t hurry the fuck up.
“Why didn’t they take you, too?” Bull questions.
“I don’t fucking know,” I huff. Actually I do, but to say it out loud scares the fuck out of me. Frank is using her against me, he has a plan for her.
“Got it,” he groans as he begins to saw at the restraints. I continue to pull and clank the metal against the pole attached to the bottom of the bar, anchoring it to the floor. Praying the cuff will break, but it doesn’t even dent.
Bobby gets up and saws at Bull’s zip ties next. I roll my eyes and continue to beat the fuck out of the cuffs against the pole.
Finally, he has his President free and makes his way over to me, only to be stopped mid-step.
“Bobby, go get the saw cutter,” Bull orders before making his way over to me and grabbing at the cuffs, stopping me from breaking my goddamn wrist.