Malice smiled. She liked the idea. A year ago, when they formed The Crew, Malice wished she hadn’t been so blinded by anger and bitterness. Because maybe then she would have suggested they form a group to coach and train young girls on how to protect themselves from predators. Give them a fighting chance.
Lily pointed at a shadow in the dark. “Look over there! Is that him?”
The back cargo doors were partially open.
Everyone wore black from head to toe. The van was parked where there were no cameras or streetlights. Whoever was approaching would not see them until it was too late.
“QB didn’t text me back,” Bug said. “Maybe he knows something is up.”
Psycho’s seat was pushed back as far as it would go. She put on her black cap and mask.
Malice kept her eye on the shadow coming their way. He passed by the last parking lot light with its high-intensity discharge, and for her that’s when things got real.
Earlier Bug had turned off the switch near the ceiling, mounted behind the driver’s door. She’d also removed the bulb from the rear light to keep the interior dark when the back doors opened.
Quietly, Malice slipped out of the van, leaving the passenger door partially open.
“Why is he stopping?” Lily asked.
There was a spark and then a small flame as the man lit a cigarette.
A collective sigh of relief sounded inside the van.
Malice put on her mask and made sure her legs and feet were hidden behind the van’s back tires as he continued toward them. If he walked up to the driver’s window, the plan was for her to step toward the cargo doors and call his name to get him to come to the back.
She could hear his every footfall against the pavement. She swallowed as she willed herself to stay calm. Everything would be okay. The man was a rapist. Time didn’t heal all wounds.
“Hey, Tony,” he called. “Are you there?”
He was walking toward the back of the van.
So far, so good. QB thought his friend Tony had sent the text. He’d fallen for the ploy, just as Bug had fallen for his ten years ago.
He was close now. Malice could see the smoke from his cigarette rise into the night and disappear. She didn’t move a muscle. She just waited. They all did.
“What the hell are you doing?” QB asked. He opened one side of the cargo doors, laughing now.
Lily lunged first. And then Bug.
Malice heard the buzz of the electrodes being fired as he was hit multiple times with a Taser. He cursed, grunted. His cigarette dropped to the pavement. They were on him fast, pulling him inside the van. No time was wasted. They all knew what to do. His ankles and wrists were zip-tied. Psycho leaned over the front seat, grabbed a fistful of his shirt, and helped pull him closer to the front. His legs were stiff and straight, his muscles contracting as his body seized.
“How many times was he tased?” Malice asked, worried that they might have gone too far.
“Don’t worry,” Bug said through gritted teeth as she worked. “He’s fine.”
Once he was bound, they rolled him to the front, pushed him against the back of the driver and passenger seat, and zip-tied him to the metal frame underneath so he would have no way of escaping. Bug fastened duct tape over his mouth to keep him quiet, then covered his face with a burlap bag.
“Okay,” Bug said. “I’m sending another text.”
Malice inhaled. Cleo had been right to worry about attempting to abduct three grown men at one time. Adrenaline pumped wildly through her veins. QB groaned and tried to jerk his hands free from the metal bars beneath the seats as they waited. His name was Myles Davenport, but calling him “QB” made him less human and the shit going down less real.
From behind the van Malice kept her gaze focused on the path QB had taken a few minutes before. The cargo door was still ajar. So was the passenger door. When the grunts and groans coming from QB got louder, she poked her head inside the van. “Someone needs to quiet him.”
“He has tape over his mouth,” Lily said. “There’s not much else we can do.”
Psycho pulled a handkerchief along with a small plastic bottle from her sweatshirt pocket. She doused the cloth with liquid, put the bottle away, then twisted her body around and clamped the cloth over the front of the burlap bag where QB’s mouth and nose would be.
Silence followed.
“What did you do?” Lily asked.
Psycho shoved the handkerchief into her pocket. “Chloroform. You’re welcome.”
“Damn it!” Bug said, her gaze fixated on people coming their way.
Three human forms walked under the parking lot light.
Bug whistled through her teeth. “WR must have shown DL and his wife the text.”
“We’re fucked,” Lily said.
“There’s no way we can get all three of them at once,” Psycho said. “Besides, the woman had nothing to do with any of this. QB is going to have to be enough for tonight.” She started the engine.
Malice looked at Psycho. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like? Get in!”
Malice jumped inside, shut the door, and buckled up.
“We’re not leaving!” Bug shouted.
The van lurched backward. The cargo doors swung open.
Malice kept her gaze on the three people approaching. The two men broke apart, each taking a different route. What were they doing?
Bug cried out for Psycho to stop, while Lily struggled to pull the cargo doors closed.
Malice knew Psycho well enough to sense that she’d made up her mind. She was getting out of here.
Psycho pressed her foot hard on the gas pedal. Tires screeched. The van lurched forward and up and over a cement curb. The undercarriage squealed as it scraped against cement. She wrenched the wheel to the left, almost hit a parked car.
As she picked up speed, one of the men jumped in front of the van and held his hands up. Malice raised her arms to cover her face. Psycho slammed on the brakes, shoved the stick into Reverse, and backed up, tires smoking before they all felt a bump.
Wondering if they had hit another curb, Malice looked over her shoulder just as Lily shut the back doors before the van shot forward again and headed to the right, clipping the back of a Jeep before leaving the parking lot.
“You hit someone,” Lily said, her voice shaking.
“It was a Jeep,” Psycho said, leaning forward, eyes on the road ahead of her.
“No,” Bug agreed. “It was a person. I saw him. I think it was DL.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Psycho said. “I didn’t hit anyone.”
“You fucking ran into the man because you don’t know how to stick to a plan,” Bug shouted, arms flailing. “You never stick to the plan. You just do whatever the fuck you want. As soon as you volunteered to drive, I knew it was a mistake.”
“You’re the one who had grandiose ideas of capturing the whole football team in one fell swoop,” Psycho shot back. “An idiot move if ever there was one.”
“Stop,” Malice said, her stomach queasy, her mind jumbled. “Yelling at each other isn’t going to help. We need to get to where we’re going and then finish this.”
“You’re right,” Lily said. “We all need to cool down, regroup. We’ll figure this out.”