Fighting to be Free by Kirsty Moseley (48 page)

Brett handed over the duffle bag and I didn’t even need to ask to know that it would be full of cash to pay for the drugs. Damien, Dominic’s son, looked in the bag, rummaging through it before he nodded to his dad and they both stood up. “Well, it was good doing business with you. I’ll pass your details onto the relevant people so things should get moving quickly with the cars and stuff, that kind of thing is always in high demand. Let me know when you want more,” Dominic stated, nodding at the briefcase as Brett snapped it shut and stood up too.

I pushed myself to my feet and extended my arm, shaking hands with them, glad it was finally over.

Suddenly, something made a loud bang off to my left, causing dust and splinters of wood and plaster to fly across the room. I jumped, instinctively ducking and protecting my head as a ruckus started and feet thundered into the workshop. My eyes flicked in that direction as I saw people dressed in black, running into the warehouse, guns raised.

I barely had time to think ‘what the fuck’ before one of them shouted, “Police, you’re under arrest!”

Police? Panic made me freeze on the spot. I watched with wide eyes as more and more of them burst into the room from all sides. I groaned in defeat knowing that everything was ruined, I was totally screwed.

That’s when the gun shots started.

Bangs echoed off of the walls, almost deafening me a gun went off near me. I crouched down quickly, ducking behind the desk, unsure what to do. I watched with wide eyes as the people from Dominic Lazlo’s organisation instigated a full on fire fight with the police.

“Fuck!” I hissed, not having a clue what to do. I was going to die, I could feel it. I was so close to being out of this game, and I was going to die on the last job - that was just a typical thing for me, I guess I’d never get a happy ending.

Everyone was shouting, gun shots were blasting, people were scuffling and fighting around me. I could barely move, I was in shock I think, my limbs just seemed to be frozen as I wanted to press my hands over my ears and close my eyes until it all went away. I saw Brett run in a crouch over to take cover behind a huge metal tool cabinet. He had his gun drawn as he looked around the corner of the cabinet, sending off a couple of shots in the direction of the police. I looked at him with wide eyes, I knew I was supposed to help, usually if there was trouble then I would be there instantly, not hesitating to get involved. This was different though, those weren’t thugs or bad people that I could beat the crap out of, those were police officers. There was no way I was drawing my gun and firing on innocent police officers, not a chance in hell of that because that wasn’t who I was as a person. I was a booster who did a few bad things, but shooting a gun at someone, not a chance of that happening.

My wild eyes flicked over to the right and I saw Terry crouched a little way away, hiding behind a smaller desk that he’d flipped onto its side. He looked terrified. He had his gun drawn too, but he wasn’t firing, his hands were shaking as he looked over and caught my gaze. He nodded at his gun but I quickly shook my head, telling him not to get involved. The Lazlo’s started this; there was no way they were going to win though even with our help. The police were wearing body armour; their trained eyes were making short work of the people who were fighting against them. The Lazlo’s were dropping like flies. I could already see Damien was down on the floor; blood was seeping from a wound in his neck. His eyes were closed and he wasn’t moving. He was obviously dead.

Dominic was kneeling over him, his face contorted in rage and grief as he let out a gut-wrenching primal scream and fired randomly at anyone that moved.

Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion, the shots were so loud that each one made me flinch as I stayed behind the desk. I debated making a run for it. There was a door off to the side, while everyone was distracted I could make a dash for the door and try and get the hell out of here.

But I knew there was probably no chance of me making it, a bullet would get me as soon as I moved away from the desk.

Suddenly Dominic jerked, his hand flailing as he fell backwards awkwardly. I gulped and watched as blood slowly trickled out of a hole on the side of his head. The smell of blood and urine filled the air as he lost control of his bodily functions. I gagged, pressing my hand over my mouth. Things were calming down now; the shots were only coming from one place - Brett.

“Brett, just stop!” I shouted desperately, jumping as a bullet smacked into the desk near my head making a loud thud and cracking sound. I couldn’t see Brett, but I knew he wasn’t taking my advice because he continued to fight back. “Brett, just stop now!” I shouted again.

A couple more shots sounded but then everything went quiet, so quiet that if it wasn’t for the shrill ringing that sounded from my eardrums, then I would have thought I’d gone deaf. I breathed a sigh of relief that he’d stopped, hopefully his lawyer would fix this somehow, I had no idea how but hopefully he could do some sort of deal. I kept that in mind as I heard the sound of shuffling feet behind me.

“Show me your hands!” a voice demanded. I gulped and instantly put my hands up, making sure they were visible over the top of the desk so that they could see that I wasn’t a threat. Terry did the same thing, sliding his gun out across the floor to show that he was unarmed. From the corner of my eye I saw a couple of other people put their hands up too, three more from Brett’s team, and one I recognised as one of Dominic’s goons.

“Keep them where I can see them. If you move even an inch I won’t hesitate in shooting!” the voice growled.

I closed my eyes hating this whole situation. I was in so much trouble; there was no way out of this at all. My mind flicked to Ellie as disappointment washed over me because everything we’d planned would be ruined. There was not a chance we were getting to go away tomorrow now. I’d ruined everything.

A guy in full uniform stepped tentatively around the corner, his gun pointed at me. “On your stomach! Put your hands on the back of your head,” he ordered as I saw someone move to Terry too, telling him the same thing.

I nodded quickly, lowering myself down onto the dusty floor, my hands linking together on the back of my head. A weight suddenly pressed between my shoulder blades. I winced, groaning as the guy kneeled on my back, almost crushing my ribs. The gun was pulled from the back of my jeans as I struggled to breathe. “Do you have any other weapons?”

I tried to shake my head but it was impossible where I was pinned to the floor. “No,” I croaked.

Something snapped around my right wrist, the click of the handcuffs made my heart hurt. I closed my eyes and silently cursed everything and everyone. When my hands were pulled behind my back, my other hand was cuffed too and I was hoisted to my feet.

As the guy patted down my body, checking for weapons, I looked in the direction of Brett, watching as a cop went over there too, I could see him crouch down, I assume to put the cuffs on him too. But a few seconds later the cop stood back up and stepped out from behind the cabinet alone.

I frowned, confused, until he shook his head. “This one’s dead.”

“What? No!” I cried, shocked. I immediately thrashed, catching the cop by surprise, causing his hold to loosen. I threw off his hold and my feet moved of their own accord, running the six or so steps forward so I could see for myself if the guy that I always had a fatherly respect for, was dead.

As I made the last step I saw it was the truth. He lay face down, a pool of blood seeping out under him, his eyes that were so familiar to me, were wide and vacant. Grief washed over me. My mouth dropped open in shock as a strangled gargle sounded in the back of my throat. Dead? Brett was dead? That hit me harder than I ever thought it would, my chest tightened as my hands clenched into fists as I stared at him in disbelief.

I barely had time to react before three guys crashed into me from behind, slamming me into the wall harshly. Air rushed out of my lungs quickly as they pinned me there heavily, securing me. A gun pressed into the back of my neck with bruising force as I felt the last of my hope run out of my system. I closed my eyes as one of them gave me the little speech about my rights; I’d heard it all before.

Numb. That was the only way to describe how I felt at the moment. My whole body just felt cold, like I was slipping into shock or something. I could still hear a faint ringing in my ears, I had a feeling I’d be hearing it for a long time to come. I gulped as I pictured Brett as he lie so still, a pool of blood rapidly growing under his lifeless body, staining the concrete floor. My mind was whirling but no specific thoughts were forming, something would start to formulate and then immediately my brain would skip onto something else. Thoughts of Brett, jail, blood, lights-out, steel bars and other horrifying things appeared every time I closed my eyes. The one thought that was the most prominent was the little redhead cheerleader that I was totally in love with, and how disappointed she was going to be in me. How was I even going to begin to explain this to her?

A cop took hold of my arm and pulled me from the van that I was currently sitting in. I frowned and looked up at the police station, an ominous feeling settled over me as I realised that there was a good chance I wouldn’t get out of here, but instead go straight back to jail. I was still on parole for Ralf’s murder; technically I could be thrown back in jail immediately for another six months as that’s how long the remainder of my sentence was before I was let out on good behaviour.

The other boys were all led out behind me. Six of us were arrested tonight, three had been injured and were taken to hospital with armed guards, and nine people, including Brett, had been killed at the scene.

I was still a little numb inside, not knowing what to think or say. My whole life had just been flushed down the toilet in one night, one night ruined everything for me and I would have to deal with that forever. The guy holding my arm started walking so I let him lead me along towards the blue backdoor of the station. As we walked in I kept my eyes straight ahead as he led me to the check in desk where a bored looking cop was waiting there to book us all in to our holding cells.

The other boys all got filed in behind me and were handcuffed to the benches along the sides to wait for their turn to be processed.

The cop at the desk flicked open a pad, pulling the lid off of his pen. “Please state your name for the records.”

“Jamie Cole,” I muttered, frowning. I tuned out as the guy that was holding me rattled off my charges as the desk clerk scribbled in his pad.

“So, do you have a lawyer, Jamie Cole, or would you like us to provide you with one?” he asked, looking at me curiously.

I sighed. “I don’t have one.”

He nodded, ticking a box on a form before looking up at the guy behind me. “Right, let’s get his pockets emptied.”

I groaned, closing my eyes when I thought about what was in there. The cop behind me shoved me roughly so that I slammed against the desk. One of his arms pressed against my back roughly, pinning me there while he pulled at my wrist, unclasping my watch and throwing it on the desk, before shoving his hands in my pockets one at a time, dumping the contents on the desk for the clerk to process.

“One silver watch. One black leather wallet containing,” the desk clerk flicked it open, looking in it curiously, “forty-seven bucks.” He threw it into a clear plastic bag and scribbled it onto the pad before picking up the next item. “One set of keys. One cellphone. One piece of paper containing what looks like a bank account number, we’d better get that checked out.” The other cop emptied my last pocket and laughed. I chewed on the inside of my cheek so hard that the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. The other cop laughed too as he picked them up, smirking at me. “One blue lacy thong. I’m thinking you have a slutty girlfriend,” he teased.

“She’s not a slut!” I snapped. I threw my shoulder back harshly, making the guy tighten his hold on me as I struggled against him. I wanted to grab them and shove them back in my pocket to protect Ellie’s modesty, but with my hands tied behind my back all I managed to achieve was a pain in my chest where the guy slammed me against the desk roughly.

The desk clerk smiled teasingly as he toyed with the panties before putting them in the bag too. I was battling against my anger; my jaw was aching where I clenched it so tightly. He picked up the last item, the black ring box. “Wow, nice. Is this real?” he asked as soon as he lifted the lid.

I nodded, not wanting to speak more than necessary.

He raised one eyebrow, looking at it longingly. “My wife would love me forever if I gave her that,”

he muttered, showing it to the cop that was holding me. Anger flared even more as he whistled appreciatively.

“Maybe you should buy her one then,” I growled. “Put it in the fucking bag because I’m gonna need that when I get out of this shithole!”

The desk clerk raised one eyebrow and snapped the box closed, tossing it carelessly into the bag.

“One silver diamond ring,” he muttered, scribbling on the pad again.

“It’s white gold,” I corrected, glaring at him. I had a strong feeling that the ring wouldn’t be in the bag by the time I got out of here and had to sign for my belongings.

The guy shrugged not bothering to change the form as he shoved it towards me. “Sign here,” he stated. There was a fumbling at my back and the cuffs sprang off of my wrists. I grabbed the pen and wrote my name on the bottom before crossing out the ‘silver’ on the description and changing it to white gold, which made the desk clerk growl in frustration and rip the pad and pen from my hand. “Take him to three,” he ordered.

The cop behind me grabbed my arm, tugging me forward. My eyes flicked to the line of guys waiting for processing. Terry’s defeated gaze met mine and he smiled sadly, as if he already knew that he was going back inside too. I let the cop lead me along and then I was shoved into a small holding cell. As the door slammed closed behind me I closed my eyes, not needing to look at my surroundings to know that the room would be painted grey, with just a bed jutting out of the wall and a blue mattress on it. I didn’t need to look because I already knew this place too well from where I was kept in it before.