The Score (21 page)

LAUREN

M
y feet moved at the speed of lightning. I could feel the wind beating on my skin so hard it made snot wet the inside of my nostrils. My entire body was covered with a thick sheen of sweat and I could feel it burning my armpits. My breath escaped my mouth in jagged, raggedy puffs and my chest burned. My heart felt like it would burst through the front of it. Even feeling as terrible as I did, I would not and could not stop moving.

“Move!”

“Get out of my fucking way!”

“Watch out!”

“Move!”

I screamed command after command at the nosy-ass people who were staring and gawking and being in my damn way. My legs were moving like those of a swift and agile cheetah as I swerved and swayed through the throngs of people on the downtown Virginia Beach street. I was met by more than one mouthful of gasps and groans and I could faintly see more than one wide-eyed, mouth-agape stare as people gawked at me like I was a crazy woman. I guess I did look crazy running through the high-end shopping area with no shoes on (I had run straight out my Louboutins), my expensive embellished Balmain skirt was hitched up around my hips, my vixen weave blowing in the wind, and my Chanel caviar bag strapped around my arm like a slave chain. I could feel that my makeup was a cakey, smudged mess all over my face and eyes. But I didn't give a damn. I wasn't going to stop running. No matter what. Looking crazy was the least of my worries.

I had run track in high school and it was still paying off now, but clearly I wasn't in the same athletic shape. Still, I wasn't about to go out like this. I wasn't going to get captured on the street and probably murdered for something that wasn't totally my fault. I had been pushed and provoked to do everything that I did. All of the mistakes. All of the grimy shit I had done over the years. All of it was because I was born at a disadvantage from day fucking one.

I didn't want to die. I had always seen myself growing old with a few kids and grandkids surrounding me when I was ready to be settled. I would've given anything to be old and settled at this moment. But, of course, life threw me a curveball.

I could hear the thunderous footfalls of the three men chasing me. If they weren't so damn gorilla big and slower than me they would have caught me by now.

“Hey! Are you okay?” I heard a man on the street yell at me as I flew past him nearly knocking him over. Why the hell was he asking me such a dumb question when you could clearly see that I was being chased by three hulking goons dressed in all black with their guns probably showing on their waists or maybe even in their hands? Thank goodness I am always so alert or they would've walked right up on me while I unsuspectingly ate my lunch at the posh restaurant and grabbed me. It was the fact that I had only been back in town for a few hours, the disappearance of my lunch companion, and the suspicious looks that had alerted me in the first place. How could I have been so trusting? So naïve and stupid, too.

I could feel the look of terror contorting my face, so I knew damn well passersby could see the fear etched on every inch of it.

Finally, I dipped through a side alley and the first door I tried allowed me inside. Thank God! With my chest heaving up and down I rested my back against another cold metal door inside and slid down to the floor. My legs were still trembling and my muscles were on fire in places on my body I didn't even know existed. I tried to slow my rapid breathing so I could hear whether the men had noticed me dipping into the alley but the more I tried to calm myself the more reality set in about the grave danger I was in. I was probably about to be murdered or worse, tortured and then murdered right in a dank alleyway in the place I thought I would never return to. If I hadn't gotten that call, it would have been years before I crept back here. I thought about Matt and wondered if he was the one who had sent these men after me. But how would he have known I was back? I knew Matt had a lot of selfish ways about him and although shit had gone south with us, I never thought he would try to do something like this to me. I expected that if he wanted to confront me, he would come himself. Even if it was Yancy who had sent the goons, I would think Matt would have tried to spare me.

CLANG!

A loud noise outside interrupted my thoughts and caused me to jump. I clasped both of my hands over my mouth and forced the scream that had crept up my throat back down. Sweat trickled down my face and burned my eyes. My heart jackhammered against my chest bone so hard it actually hurt. My stomach knotted up so tightly the cramps were almost unbearable. I dropped my head. Suddenly I felt like vomiting.

“I don't see her! She's not down here!” I heard one of the goons outside of the door scream to the others. I swallowed hard and started praying under my breath.

Those last few words of my prayer resonated with me the longest. I truly didn't know how I had gotten to this point. I immediately started to think back on everything that had happened. I had definitely done my share of dirt but did I really deserve to die like this?

My mind raced with a million thoughts but at the forefront was the fact that I believed that Daysha had set me up. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I crouched down and hid. My own friend had turned on me in the worst way. A hiccup of sobs escaped my mouth before I could even control it. I quickly clasped my hands over my mouth.

“In here! Here!” I heard one of the men bark. My shoulders slumped and I just closed my eyes.

“Get her!” I heard another one yell. I felt them pushing the door against my back. I gave up. I gave up on trying to run. I gave up on trying to find happiness. I gave up on trying to find love. I gave up on trying to have money and survive. I just finally gave it all up.

I was still sobbing, but I was going to face these dudes like a woman. I stood up and turned toward the door. When the first goon pushed it in he jumped because he didn't expect to find me standing there ready to go with them without a fight.

“I got her!” he called out to the rest. I shot him an icy glare as my entire body trembled. For all I knew he was going to pull out a gun and shoot me down right there. He didn't. The second goon rushed through the doorway and clamped down on my arm roughly.

“The boss wants her brought to him alive,” he told the others. “He wants to do the honors himself.”

They dragged me out of the building and into a black SUV. They didn't bother to tie me up, handcuff me, or anything.

“Where are y'all taking me?” I croaked out, my throat sore and my mouth dry.

“To hell if you don't pray,” one of them answered with an eerie finality that sent chills down my spine.

When the SUV they had forced me to ride in pulled into the desolate area, my heart thumped against my chest bone. I stretched my eyes and saw that there were nothing but warehouses and factories surrounding the entire area. This couldn't be a good sign, I was thinking. I looked around and right away I knew this was the type of place thugs like these took people to kill them. We were near the port, that much I could tell. In the distance I could see the water and the ships behind the buildings. It was a place that was familiar to me since I was from the Tidewater area.

You might as well consider yourself as good as dead, Lauren.
My imagination ran wild and was telling me that there were probably many bodies in the murky green water behind the warehouses. I surmised that I would be joining them soon enough.

When the SUV rolled through the tall, silver chain-link fence each pop and crunch of the gravel under the tires unnerved me. The tension inside of the car was palpable, to say the least. My teeth began chattering uncontrollably. My body trembled as well. I wrung my hands in my lap and swung my legs open and closed nervously. None of the goons said anything once we arrived, but I could feel a different type of vibe envelop the car. It was ominous and dark all of a sudden. They knew the fate that awaited me.

I was praying in my head but the words weren't really clear to me. I had already started to wig the fuck out mentally. Everything was muddled and blurry. Even my hearing was blocked by a ringing noise that suddenly exploded inside of them. I guess this was what happened when a person felt like they were looking death directly in the eyes. The best I could describe it was a dizzying fear that threatened the very fiber of my sanity. I could actually feel the fine strings of my mental stability coming loose.

When the vehicle finally stopped moving something inside of me seemed to click on as if someone flipped a light switch inside of me. Or maybe it was more like something snapped in half like a twig being broken in the middle. Whatever happened, it caused my body to come alive like I had been pumped with a billion watts of electricity. I guess my fight-or-flight instinct kicked in because I started fighting like I was in the center of a boxing ring with my toughest opponent. I swung my arms and caught the goon to my left right across his face. He clearly didn't see it coming nor did he expect it.

“Oh shit! This little . . .” he balked, quickly throwing his hands up to his face. The goon sitting on my right side tried to grab me but he wasn't able to get a good grip on me before I was first able to claw a chunk of skin from his cheek.

“Ahhh! Get this bitch!” he howled. I kicked wildly and swung my arms just as wildly. They weren't ready for me. I may have been a woman and short in stature, but my will to live made me as big and tall as every motherfucka in that vehicle. I was moving so wildly that I couldn't see nor did I really know who or what I was hitting with each crazy swing.

“Calm that bitch down! Y'all letting a bitch fuck y'all up!” the goon that was driving yelled from the front.

“This bitch is crazy,” the goon on my left huffed. “I'm about to put two in her fucking head!” he growled.

That's right. I wanted them to know I was crazy . . . crazy about my life. It didn't matter who was trying to capture and kill me, I wasn't going down without a fierce fight. I had been through a lot in my lifetime and through it all I knew one thing for sure . . . I was a fucking fighter. I didn't lie down easily for nobody. I swung at the goon on my left again but I missed. He grabbed hold of my wrists and squeezed them so hard it made me buckle over at the waist. I just knew he would shatter all of the bones in my wrists.

“Ahhh,” I said, wincing, but I didn't stop fighting. I couldn't move my arms but I sure kicked and bucked my body like a wild animal being carried to slaughter. The goon on my right scrambled out of the door.

“Grab this bitch! I'm sick of her,” the one holding my wrists demanded. His partner leaned back into the car from outside of the door and stuck his hands under both of my shoulders and began pulling me out of the SUV.

“Get off of me! Agh! Get the fuck off of me!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. My prayer was that someone, somewhere nearby would hear my cries. The other goon finally released my wrists. He shouldn't have. I jutted my foot out forcefully and caught him with a perfect kick in his side. He made a noise but he kept on coming. My kick didn't faze him but it sure did infuriate him.

“That's it! She's a dead bitch! I'm sick of this bitch!” the goon boomed, pulling his gun from his waist.

“No! Don't fucking shoot her right here!” the driver barked. The other goon sucked in his bottom lip and slowly put his gun away. I kicked at him again but I couldn't get to him. I turned my head to the side and tried in vain to bite the goon who was holding me under the shoulders.

“This little spitfire is trying to fucking bite me now,” he grumped.

“Get her the fuck inside so we can do what we gotta do. She's lucky the boss wants her brought to him alive or else I would've put this bitch on ice,” the driver growled. Before anything else was said I was dragged from the vehicle. As soon as my feet hit the dirt I started bucking, kicking, biting, and spitting again. I was exhausted and my body ached, but I would not stop fighting.

“Let go of me! Get off of me!” I kicked, screamed, and flailed as all the three men tried in vain to drag me toward the door to the warehouse-looking building.

“Get off of me!” I wasn't going in there that fucking easily. I felt like I was on death row being led to the chamber. No wonder it took so many guards for the death row inmates. It was a different kind of fight when you felt like your life was on the line.

“Ouch! Little bitch!” One of the goons growled. I had kicked him in the stomach as he tried to lift me onto his shoulder.

“This little bitch is a fighter,” one of the others commented. The tallest of the three gorilla goons finally hoisted me, kicking and screaming, onto his shoulder. I began pounding my fists into his back. My small hits didn't faze him at all. He began walking swiftly to the door. I couldn't let them take me inside. I turned my head and was able to latch onto his ear with my teeth. I bit down with the force of a mighty lioness. I moved my top and bottom teeth side to side while my sharp teeth were clamped down on the goon's cartilage.