Chapter Eleven

 

Pamela sprinted through the parking lot of the apartment complex, the night a cloak due to the safety lights not working. She crunched glass under foot along with gravel as she ran past one of the lamps.

Her legs were starting to burn, but she couldn’t stop. It didn’t matter if she’d had the files or not they’d still kill them. The Hatter’s reach was too long and those in his pocket numerous enough to be a surprise even if she did go to the police, but she had to take that chance.

It wasn’t even like she’d willingly gotten into this mess in the first place. She’d gotten dragged along because of Wes. He’d been already involved with The Hatter when she met him.

Pam slipped and stumbled, her knee gave out and she went down. She rolled across the ground and into a pair of black shoes. She looked up and even in the dark she could see the grimness on his golden face.

“How could you do this to me?” she demanded. “What did I ever do to you to deserve it?”

“Don’t be so melodramatic, Pam,” he said coolly. “This was all about business. I had no idea you’d get caught. Now, we have to clean house.”

“But The Hatter—”

“The Hatter is a fool, but Black Jack is a man with vision.” He smiled. “One he and I share.”

She sat up. “I can’t believe—I trusted you.” Tears filled her eyes but she was so far beyond real tears of hurt that these were from fear and knowing her life was over. And she only had herself to blame.

The damned drugs had lulled her into a false sense of peace from the truths of the past and even her present mistakes.

She wiped the wet from her eyes.

“Get up. I’m not going to kill you out here. Someone will likely see though I’m sure no one will tell.” He bent and grabbed her shoulders helping her up. “Now, where is that list and the video footage Wes was so kind as to take for us?”

She’d never seen the footage, didn’t even know what was on the cards. She was willing to bet Sabrina wouldn’t even look at the files she took either. She’d destroy them not that going to the police would help.

“Where?” He shook her and led her back the way they’d come.

“I don’t know. I told you—”

“Wes said you had the files.”

“I did,” she said quietly as she trudged along next to him. “They were stolen this afternoon.”

“By who?”

She laughed and looked up at him thinking how ironic it was. She could tell him about Sabrina.

Her call had confirmed that Sabrina had been in the apartment while she’d been passed out. Pam had given her sister the key nine months ago when Sabrina was helping out with rent and bills.

She’d feared dying alone from an overdose, so she’d given Sabrina a key so she could get in if there was any need.

He threw her against the black sedan he’d dragged her to and glared at her. “What are you laughing about?”

“I was already dead before tonight,” she said sadly. Sabrina had come through the fire apparently unscathed despite being gay.

“Where are the files, baby girl? Don’t make this harder than it already is,” he said gravely.

She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“You’ll talk before I’m done with you,” he said coldly and punched her in the jaw knocking her out cold.