CHAPTER 9 : WAREHOUSE 17
1135 Words
The old docks smelled like rust and salt and fear.
Warehouse 17 was dark. No windows. One door.
I had $400 in my pocket and a key in my hand.
My hands were shaking so bad I could barely hold the phone. No Damian. No police. No backup.
Just me.
I pushed the door open.
“Hello?” My voice echoed.
“Right on time, Mrs. Blackwood.”
Richard.
He was sitting on a chair. Legs crossed. Like this was a board meeting.
Behind him, tied to another chair, was Damian.
His lip was bleeding. One eye was swollen. But he was alive.
“Ava, don’t,” Damian said through gritted teeth. “It’s a trap.”
Richard clapped slowly. “Brave girl. Coming here alone. I almost respect it.”
“Let him go,” I said.
Richard laughed. “Or what? You’ll slap me again?”
He stood and walked to Damian. Put a gun on the table next to him.
“Here’s the deal,” Richard said. “Sign over full custody of Liam to me. I’ll drop the charges. You both walk away. And I’ll even pay for the boy’s treatment.”
“You’re lying,” I said.
“Am I?” Richard smiled. “I’m his great-uncle. The court will give him to me over a broke nurse and a criminal.”
Damian lunged forward in the chair. “Don’t you dare talk about him—”
“Shut up,” Richard snapped. He backhanded Damian.
Damian’s head snapped to the side.
“STOP!” I screamed. “I’ll sign! Just don’t hurt him!”
Richard turned to me, pleased. “Good girl.”
He pulled papers from his briefcase. Custody papers.
“Sign here,” he said, pushing them and a pen toward me.
My hand shook as I picked up the pen.
I looked at Damian. He was shaking his head. Blood at the corner of his mouth.
“Don’t do it, Ava,” he mouthed.
I had to. For Liam.
I signed.
Richard took the papers and smiled. “Pleasure doing business.”
He turned to his two men. “Take care of them.”
The men stepped forward.
Panic hit me. “Wait! You said we could walk away!”
“I lied,” Richard said simply. “Can’t have witnesses.”
He walked to the door. “See you in court. As Liam’s guardian.”
The door closed.
We were alone with two men and a gun on the table.
“Please,” I said, backing up. “He’s sick. He needs me.”
The first man grabbed my arm.
That’s when Damian moved.
He wasn’t tied tight. He never was.
He kicked the chair back, slammed it into the second man’s knees. The man went down.
Damian rolled, grabbed the gun from the table with his bound hands, and fired.
Bang.
The first man let go of me and dropped.
The second man pulled a knife.
Damian shot him too.
Silence.
Damian was breathing hard. His hands were still tied.
“Ava,” he said. “Are you hurt?”
I ran to him. “No. No, I’m okay. Oh my God, Damian.”
He smiled, bloody and tired. “Told you I’d protect you.”
I untied his hands with shaking fingers.
He pulled me into his arms. Hard.
“I thought I lost you,” he whispered into my hair. “I thought—”
“You didn’t,” I said, crying. “You didn’t.”
We stayed like that for 10 seconds. Then sirens.
“Police,” Damian said, standing. “Richard must have called them. To frame us.”
“What do we do?”
Damian looked at the two bodies. At the gun. At me.
“Run,” he said. “Again.”
We ran out the back door. Down to the docks. Jumped into a small boat tied up there.
Damian started the engine.
As we pulled away, I saw police cars screeching to a halt at Warehouse 17.
“We’re fugitives now,” I said quietly.
“I know,” Damian said. “But we’re alive. And we’re together.”
He reached over and took my hand.
We drove the boat for an hour. To a different dock. Then stole a car.
At dawn, we were 3 towns away.
We checked into another cheap motel. Paid cash.
Liam.
The word hit us both at the same time.
“The court date,” I said. “It’s in 3 days. With those custody papers Richard has, he’ll win.”
Damian was pacing. “I need a lawyer. A real one. Not the court appointed one.”
“With what money?”
Damian stopped. He looked at me. “I have one last card to play.”
“What?”
“My father,” Damian said. “He’s been out of the country for 5 years. He hates Richard. And he has money.”
“Your father?” I’d never heard him mention him.
“He left when I was 16,” Damian said. “Said he couldn’t handle the family. But he’ll come back for this. For me.”
Damian picked up the burner phone. Dialed a number from memory.
It rang 4 times.
“Hello?” A man’s voice. Older. Tired.
“Dad,” Damian said. “It’s me.”
A long pause. “Damian? Is that really you?”
“I need help,” Damian said. “They took Liam. Richard’s trying to kill us. I need money. And a lawyer. And—”
“Where are you?” his dad cut in.
Damian gave him the motel name.
“I’ll be there in 6 hours,” his dad said. “Don’t move. Don’t do anything stupid.”
The call ended.
Damian looked at me. “He’s coming.”
For the first time in days, I felt hope.
We ordered food. Ate in silence.
At 3 PM, there was a knock.
Damian opened the door.
A man stood there. 50s. Gray hair. Same jawline as Damian.
But behind him were two men. In suits.
And behind them... Richard.
“Hello, son,” Damian’s dad said. “And you must be Ava.”
Damian went pale. “Dad? What’s he doing here?”
His dad smiled. But it wasn’t a nice smile.
“We had a deal, Richard,” he said. “You get the company. I get Damian out of the picture. And we split the assets.”
The world tilted.
Damian’s own father had betrayed him.
Richard grinned. “Family is everything, isn’t it?”
The two men stepped forward.
Damian grabbed my hand.
“Run,” he whispered.
*[END OF CHAPTER 9]*
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