Redemption
Chapter Twenty-Six
After a long, grueling day of work, nothing felt better than to come home and relax on the couch. He hung up his jacket and kicked off his shoes as he carried the mail in the crook of his arm. He sifted through the post, tossing the junk onto the coffee table, bills with it (he would deal with those later). The last envelope in the pile didn't have a stamp or a return address, which made his heart plummet from his chest. A large lump formed in his throat and he tried to swallow it away to no avail.
The name on the front of the envelope had been typed—as had what was inside, he was sure. This hadn't been the first he'd received and he knew what to expect. With an unsteady hand, he tore it opened and removed the slip of paper from inside. His eyes scanned the few lines on it, expecting to find that his time was up, but, that wasn't what he'd found. This was only the beginning for him. He would be used as another pawn in their game and there was nothing he could do about it. If he didn't do what they wanted, they would kill the woman he loved. He had no choice other than to do their bidding.
It didn't mean it was right. He could have stopped this with his first notice, but at the first sign that it was revealed to either the police or the FBI, they would take no mercy. They were cold-blooded killers with the knack of disposing of people. He would rather they get rid of him instead. She had nothing to do with this. She was only an innocent bystander and because of his carelessness, he'd put her in danger.
A photograph had also been in the envelope, but it had fallen to the floor when he removed the note. He picked it up and stared at it. In it, he showed weakness for the woman who owned his heart. He always became weak when he stared into those gorgeous eyes and kissed her full, pouting lips. She would be the death of him if he had his way. He would rather die for her than die because of something he had no control over.
He closed his eyes as tears formed in them and dropped the picture onto the coffee table. He couldn't look at it anymore—it only brought him pain. He had to do something; anything to keep her safe and if that meant following their instructions, then so be it.
He picked up the note with a trembling hand and read the lines again. 'She is such a precious jewel, isn't she? We wouldn't want to harm a hair on that pretty, little head. And we won't, if you do as we ask. Tomorrow; one o'clock. Be there. Don't be late.'
The alley was dark, even in the middle of the day with the sun high up in the sky. Garbage was strewn about by a stray and there were a couple of rats who'd decided to follow him as he headed deeper through. He checked behind him to see if he'd been followed by anyone who was human and was satisfied when he found that he hadn't been.
"This is ridiculous," he muttered as he slipped his hands into his pockets to warm them. It was a very cold day in which snow was predicted; a fine day for a confrontation like this.
With all of his training, he should have known all about getting out of these predicaments, but that would mean putting her in danger and he just couldn't do that. She meant too much to him for him to run scared. He would follow their plans and hopefully thwart them before his time was up. He had to stay sharp, even if that meant looking over his shoulder at every turn.
"Punctuality is key and I'm so pleased you followed instructions."
He jumped from the sound of the deep voice that seemed to come from nowhere and turned around to see a large, dark man standing only a few inches from him and a good six inches above him. It was the same man he'd dealt with the first time, which he hoped to never see again. Very few things frightened him anymore, but this man was one of the things at the top of his list. "Okay," he began with fright in his voice. He cleared it before he spoke again, this time it was his usual, clam and collected tone. "I'm here and I'll do anything you want. Just don't hurt her."
"If your superiors found out, it could be disastrous for the both of you." The visitor said it with an air of confidence. He was looking forward to have the man before him beg at his feet.
"That's none of your concern," he spit out with anger. It didn't matter, anyway. Something was going to be done about the situation and soon.
"It is if we don't get what we want."
"And what do you want?" He glared at the taller man, his courage almost spent, except for the few snide remarks he had left up his sleeve.
"Information," was the reply. The dark man held out a slip of paper in a leather-clad hand. Whether it was to devoid the paper of prints or to keep the chill from them, the victim didn't know. He just knew that this man may have been much smarter than he first anticipated. "Here is what we want to know and where you can deliver it. You have until Monday morning."
He glanced down at the list and read it over once. He looked up at the predator before him and gave him a doubting look. It would take him much longer than that to get everything they wanted. "I can't get all of this by Monday. It'll be impossible."
"You can and you will or else you say farewell to your precious jewel. Monday." The large man turned to leave, but then stopped and turned back around. "Give Stern's widow my condolences, will you?" He gave an evil smirk before he left his prey to reflect upon their meeting. By the look of defeat on his face, they would get everything they wanted. Everything was falling into place.