8

The murderer.

Chryssie stared at the man, and then at Marv. Her mind froze. She turned back toward Marv. “You. I trusted…I can’t believe this.”

Marv was blocking the front entrance.

She turned toward the back.

Two men stepped out of the shadows. Even in the dimness of the bar, Chryssie recognized the men blocking the exit. They’d been chasing her all day.

“Don’t be afraid, Glitter. It’ll be fine.” Marv walked toward her. “You know I like you. As long as you’re cooperative, this’ll all work out. Win—win.”

Chryssie had nowhere to run. Her arms flew out as she shoved him. Unfortunately, Marv was ready. His arms surrounded her, and in the next moment the two men were beside her. She tried to fight them off, but they were stronger and bigger.

“Just calm down, Chryssie.” Marv’s voice penetrated her panic. He stepped away, but the two men held on tightly. “I don’t want to hurt you. We just need to have a talk.”

All the fight went out of Chryssie. There was no way she could overpower the four men.

He nodded, seemingly pleased that she wasn’t struggling any longer. But instead of talking, he went over to the bar’s front door and latched it. No one would be coming in to rescue her. Marv sighed as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I think you’ve met my cousin before. Roman.”

“That’s not her.”

“It’s her. Just without the makeup and wig.”

His cousin. All the pieces of the puzzle came together. No wonder he’d looked familiar. She’d met him a few times. Why hadn’t she put it together sooner?

“Unfortunately, we can’t talk here. Marquetta will be here any minute to open up. So, Glitter, you need to go with them.” He nodded at the two men who still held her arms.

“No, I’ll stay here. I can wait in the back room until you have time.”

“I’ll take care of her myself, Marv.” Roman leered at her. “I don’t need them to take care of my problem.”

Marv glared at his cousin. “I just need some time to talk with her. I can work it all out.” He nodded at the two men. They dragged her toward the back.

“No. I don’t want to go with them. Look, he hit me. Don’t make me go with them. Please.” Fear welled up so fast Chryssie could hardly speak.

“Stop fighting, and they won’t have to do that again. Now, be a good girl. I’ll explain everything to you later.” He turned away. It was his bar and they were not just any goons—they were his goons.

She’d thought Marv would help her; rescue her.

Instead, he was her betrayer.

****

Chryssie sat on a folding chair. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she couldn’t wipe them away because her hands were taped behind her back. The goons had also taped her feet to the bottom rungs so she couldn’t even touch the floor. She had no idea where she was. They’d put a pillowcase over her head, driven for a while, and when they stopped, they’d led her down some steps to this chair.

Thankfully, they’d removed the blindfold.

Her chair was in the middle of the floor of a place that seemed like a basement—cement brick walls, a slightly musty odor, a small, dirty window, and a sofa that had seen better days.

What was Marv involved in? Why would he risk his life and his livelihood for his murdering cousin? Marv was golfing buddies with the mayor. He made the news every now and then for his philanthropic activities. He had charity fundraisers at the bar.

He was doing this because of Roman. He was the bad guy, not Marv. Hopefully, Marv would come to his senses and realize he could lose everything if he tried to help his cousin.

In the exchange with Roman at the bar, Marv had said he didn’t want to hurt her. Who got to make the final decision? They were family. Family meant a lot. Her own situation came to mind. She was doing everything possible to rescue Gabriella from the foster care system.

A loud sob escaped. Would that ever happen now? Or would she just disappear? Perhaps Marv had her put in the basement so he could make sure she didn’t cause any problems—dead or alive.

Gabriella would never even know what happened. Her little sister would believe Chryssie had abandoned her just as their mother had. No! That wouldn’t happen—couldn’t happen. She’d do what she had to in order to get out of this mess. Gabriella deserved that.

The door opened.

The goon who’d punched her came in. “Still crying and feeling sorry for yourself, I see.” He smiled as if he was enjoying her pain and distress.

Chryssie glared but said nothing. She shuddered as she remembered the look in his eyes. He wouldn’t have any problem killing her.

“I was told to make sure you were comfortable, so is there anything you’d like from me, sweetheart?” He leered at her. “Like go to the bathroom or eat?”

“I’d like to do both, actually.”

“I figured as much.” He knelt down with a knife in his hand.

Her muscles tensed as the knife came closer. I should have gone to church with Zack when I had the chance. Please, God, I’m sorry. Sorry for everything. Please forgive me.

He waved the knife in front of her with a big smile.

Chryssie steeled herself.

He reached behind her and cut through the tape binding her hands. A moment later he did the same to her legs.

She was free! Thank you, God. Chryssie decided against trying to escape right now. The goon was a lot bigger than she was—and he had a gun and a knife. She’d wait for a better opportunity. A short time later, she was back in the tiny room, eating a sandwich.

“Don’t try anything funny.” He set a can of soda on the chair. “I’ll be right on the other side. If you even rattle the door knob, you’ll be very sorry.” The goon’s tone was ominous as he turned to leave.

She was alone. And not taped to a chair. That might mean they really didn’t plan to kill her. She could only hope that was the case. Not that it mattered. She couldn’t do anything about it.

Not true.

Something in her spirit stilled. When the goon had knelt before her with that knife, she’d called out to God. And in that moment, she hadn’t felt alone. God had been with her. Could that be true?

Most of her life, she’d felt unloved, abandoned, alone. But maybe, she hadn’t really been alone. Her grandmother had told her that God loved her and that He would never leave her the way her mother had. Could God really be here, listening to her, loving her? I promise if I get out of this mess, I’ll learn more about You. And If I don’t get out of this mess, I think I know You love me. Tears filled her eyes once again.

But these tears were different. They were cleansing and healing.

She picked up her sandwich and finished it. She’d need her strength for…well, she wasn’t quite sure for what. Only that God hadn’t abandoned her. And that meant she wouldn’t give up either.

Gabriella needed her.

After the last bite, she quietly moved the chair to the window. She climbed up and peeked out. Houses and yards. A neighborhood meant people. And people meant help. If she could get their attention, someone could call the police. Reaching far, she still could barely touch the window. Even if she could unlock it, there’d be no way she could get through it. She was at the mercy of Marv and his killer cousin.

With God, all things are possible. A Bible verse her grandmother quoted again and again.

She stared at the window above her head. “Well, God, this pretty much seems impossible. But if you’d like to show me Your stuff, I’d be glad to change my mind.”

She might be able to move the sofa over and then put the chair on top of the cushions. But if the goon was actually outside the room, he’d hear her moving the furniture. Then she’d be in big trouble. But it could have been a threat to keep her in line. He could be upstairs watching TV or something. Should she take the chance? It wasn’t probable, but possible. And with God…

She stared at the door.

Was he out there just waiting for an excuse to come in?

She reached back to the window and curled her fingers around the ledge. Using all her strength, she tried to lift herself up. Nothing happened. Standing on her tiptoes, she could just see the sidewalk. Maybe, she could wait for someone to go by, then she’d yell at them to get help. Of course, the goon would hear her, but it would be worth the risk. God, I really need You. I know I don’t deserve it, but I could use a little help here—well a lot, actually. If not for me, how about for Gabriella?

Before she could jump off the chair, the door opened. She gave the goon a defiant look.

“See, this is what I mean. I do something nice for you and this is how you act. Good thing I decided to check on you.”

Thanks a lot, God.

“It doesn’t matter. I couldn’t get out anyway.” She demonstrated her inability to lift herself up. “I had to at least try to escape. I couldn’t just give up, if you know what I mean. Can’t blame a girl for trying.”

“Good thing, the boss said not to hurt you. You’re really getting on my nerves. I’ll be happy when I get to bury you.”

She jumped off the chair and gave him an insincere smile. “Well, if I’m so annoying why don’t you just let me go? That way I can get out of your hair, and you can get on with your day.”

“Yeah, you wish. Now I have to tie you up again.”

“You don’t have to do that. Really. I promise to be good. And you saw that I can’t even reach the window, so I’m sure not going anywhere.” She jumped off the chair onto the sofa. “I’ll just lay down and take a nap. I’m exhausted.”

He picked up the chair, and then pointed a beefy finger at her. “Fine. I’ll give you a break this time. But it’s the last one. Next time, you’ll be sorry.”

As Chryssie curled up in a ball on the sofa, her heart was racing and her palms were sweaty. There was no way she would let him know how scared she was. The boss had told him not to hurt her. But she wasn’t quite sure if he always listened to the boss. The boss? Marv had said that. Was Marv really his boss?

He was watching her, as if waiting for something.

She closed her eyes. She really was exhausted.