An hour later, they were in another motel. This time, Alex noticed there was no “seven” in the name. The place was called The Oceanside, even though the ocean was miles away.
The room was much like the others—a thin-walled box. It had a TV, which was chained to the wall, two lumpy beds, and a tall, ugly lamp on the nightstand.
Brandy clicked on the TV and turned up the volume. Alex pretended to watch, but she was listening to Brandy.
“I have to go out now, Tick,” Brandy said. “We need a car.”
“I’ll do that,” Tick offered.
“Forget it,” Brandy scoffed. “You’ll just screw it up—like you always do.”
“Such as when?” Tick’s voice rose.
“Such as whenever you’re awake!” Brandy snapped. She grabbed her purse and punched his shoulder as she headed for the door.
“You watch it, Brandy!” Tick yelled. “Don’t make me hit you! You’ll be sorry if you get me started!”
Brandy didn’t even look at him. “Ha!” she said as she slammed the door.
They’re mad enough to hurt each other, Alex thought. Maybe I can do something to make them even angrier.
After a few minutes, Alex turned to Tick and said, “How did you get the name, ‘Tick’?’’
“I was small as a kid,” he explained.
“You’re not small now,” Alex said. “I bet you’re much stronger than Brandy.”
He snorted and looked proud of himself. “That’s for sure,” he said.
“How long have you two known each other?” Alex asked.
“About a hundred years,” he growled.
“Oh, that must be why you’re so patient with her,” Alex said.
“What do you mean?” Tick asked.
“Well, she doesn’t give you credit for being very smart,” Alex went on.
“You got that right,” Tick agreed.
“She really should be giving you more respect,” Alex continued.
“Yeah!” said Tick. He slammed a fist on the bed.
Alex tried not to smile.
Then Tick turned on the TV and started watching a stupid game show. Alex tuned it out and thought: If Tick and Brandy had a fight, maybe I’d have a chance to escape. She remembered that night on the Paradise. When she’d pointed the gun at Brandy, she couldn’t make herself shoot. Could she pull the trigger now? She wasn’t sure. Yet she knew she had to stop them somehow.
Alex pictured Tick and Brandy counting money—and laughing. The thought made her grind her teeth.
Suddenly, the door opened. Brandy marched across the room and turned up the TV.
“Come over here,” she ordered Tick.
Tick moved slowly. “So what’s the big news, Miss Brandy?”
Then Brandy whispered something to Tick that Alex couldn’t hear.
“You called them?” Tick gasped in disbelief. “They’re coming here?”
“You fool! Keep your voice down!” Brandy growled.
“What a stupid idea!” Tick yelled.
“I’m handling this! So just shut up!” said Brandy.
“No way!” Tick objected. “We’re getting out of here now.”
Brandy laughed at him. “Since when did you start calling the shots, you loser?” she said with a sneer.
“Don’t you dare call me that!” Tick hissed. The back of his neck was turning a dull, angry red.
“What’s the matter, loser?” Brandy taunted. “Can’t you stand the truth?”
Tick pulled out his gun.
“Oh, come on,” Brandy said. “Now, give me that.” She snatched at the gun, but Tick quickly backed out of her way. He kept the gun trained on her chest.
“Come on now, Tick. Just give it to me!” Brandy ordered.
Tick looked very nervous—but also determined. His breath came fast.
Brandy’s voice was quieter now. “Come on, Tick,” she said.
Tick let out a long breath. Then he slowly stretched out his hand as if he meant to offer her the gun.
But Brandy was impatient. She suddenly lunged forward to grab the gun from his hand.
And Tick pulled the trigger.
Brandy’s mouth dropped open in surprise. She clutched her stomach. The angry expression left her face. For a moment, she looked almost young. Then she flopped to the floor like a rag doll.
“Brandy!” Tick roared as he dropped to the floor beside her. “I didn’t mean to, Brandy!”
Her knees shaking, Alex got up and moved slowly toward the lamp.
Gently, Tick turned Brandy over on her side. Her eyes were closed, but she still seemed to be breathing. “Brandy!” he called out again.
Now! Alex told herself. She yanked the tall lamp from the nightstand and charged toward Tick.
Tick looked up. But before he could focus, Alex swung. Whack! The heavy lamp base slammed down on his head.
Tick fell forward. Again, Alex brought the lamp down hard. But this time Tick grabbed the lamp base. Alex brought up her leg and kicked out at his chest. She put all the power from years of dancing behind that kick.
With a loud grunt, Tick flew backward and landed in the corner with a thud.
Alex sprinted away and threw the door open. But at that same moment, Tick rolled on his side and fired.
Alex felt the bullet pierce her thigh. At the same moment a man who’d been waiting just outside the door pulled her out of Tick’s range. Then three more men rushed into the room. “Drop your weapon!” one of them shouted.
Pain surrounded her like a red cloud. My leg, she thought. What did you do to my leg? One of the men picked her up and carried her away. Behind them, Alex could hear voices shouting and Tick snarling like a cornered dog.
She was carried out to the street and gently laid on the floor of an open van. She was shocked to see her father there. He bent over her and began to cry. Alex had never seen Louis Shaw cry before. Not ever.