Chapter 6: Bargains with the Devil

It was pouring rain and cabs were impossible to find. I practically ran to the hospital. My shoes were soaked through in minutes, and by the time I burst through the doors, my hair was plastered to my face.

By the time I got there, Derek was already awake. Tubes in his arm, hospital gown crooked, but alive.

Actually, he wasn’t hurt that badly. Aubrey just hadn’t been through anything like this before, so she panicked. Her mascara was smudged, cheeks streaked with tears, clutching his hand like it was the only thing keeping her afloat.

Outside the hospital room, I could hear Aubrey sobbing. The sound made me want to run and stay at the same time.

Derek was pale, his eyes calm, with a trace of helplessness in his smile. He spoke to her softly, like calming a child. Even after everything, he was still the same man—steady, patient.

I stood there for a while, looking down at my red, swollen feet. The nurses bustled past, barely glancing at me. My life felt like a movie I was watching through a fogged window.

I asked a nurse for slippers, then turned and left. My socks squeaked on the linoleum as I walked away.

So, no one is really indispensable to anyone else. It was a cold comfort, but it was true. You have to meet the wrong person before you find the right one.

He’d already found his right person. It wasn’t me.

I opened my umbrella and walked into the endless rainy night. The streetlights reflected off puddles, turning the city gold and black.

The waiting room stank of antiseptic and burnt coffee, the TV droning on about the Tigers game. The round-faced officer said Marcus had done it for revenge—he took a kid hostage, threatening the police to help him get out of town.

Derek risked his life to save the hostage. The department whispered about it for days; he was a hero, even if he didn’t act like one.

Marcus had connections on both sides of the law. On the surface, he was a promising businessman, but who knows how many dirty tricks he used to build his empire.

I knew him too well. If he really got away, with his skills, he’d be almost impossible to catch again. The fear gripped me tight, a snake coiling around my heart.

I thought about it for a long time. My mind raced, weighing every option, every risk.

I dialed a number I hadn’t called in ages.

“Marcus, it’s me.”

My hand shook so bad I almost dropped the phone, but I forced myself to sound steady. “Guess who turned you in to the cops?”

...

Marcus moved faster than I expected. Within half an hour of sending my message to the round-faced officer, he showed up. I barely had time to regret my choices.

They tossed me in the back of a Chevy Suburban, duct tape tight around my wrists.

When I was tied up and thrown in the car, I thought I heard police sirens. My heart was in my throat. I prayed Derek would be there—just once, just in time.

Too bad. The cops were still a few steps too late—Marcus and his men got away. The world blurred past the window, headlights like shooting stars.

Listening to their conversation from the trunk, my heart sank to the bottom. Every word was a nail in my coffin.

I’d gambled and lost.

I figured Derek probably wouldn’t see me one last time. I pictured him and Aubrey visiting my grave together. The thought was oddly peaceful—no more fighting, no more pain.

Honestly, maybe that was for the best.