Page 75 of Lost
The only door sat directly in front of Lysander and taunted him from a distance.
Even if he managed to escape the chair and strangle the life from Alfonzo, he would never make it to that door. Alfonzo’s friends would probably shoot at him if he tried — and while risking a bullet to the arm or leg didn’t sound like the worst idea if it meant escaping the stifling heat of the warehouse and the madness of these idiots, there was always the chance that they would manage to land a fatal blow.
And Lysander didn’t want to die.
So he sat there, trying to tug his wrists free, while Alfonzo went on talking. He knew Lysander was listening. Not like he had much of a damn choice.
“She came running to me for help,” Alfonzo went on, as if this were a normal conversation taking place between friends. The way he said it was matter-of-fact. “After she saw your mom lying there on the floor, she panicked, and I guess my place was closer than wherever you were.” He shrugged and twirled the gun in his hand. No sympathy for the boy who’d lost his mother. “She was babbling on and on about how your mom had slipped, how she was already dead, blah blah. Took hours to calm her down, and then all she wanted was to forget what she’d seen, so I gave her the stuff to help. It’s not my fault she couldn’t handle it.”
Lysander clenched his fists. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not.” Alfonzo crouched in front of Lysander. Even if the younger boy’s hands hadn’t been tied, the older still would have been out of reach. Just. “I really did love her, Maverick. I know you don’t believe that, but it’s true. Everything I did, I did to help her.”
Lysander gritted his teeth. “You drugged her.”
“She did it to herself. Most people do, y’know? You can blame a dealer all you want, but at the end of the day, it’s on the person if they decide to take the drugs. All I did was give her what she wanted.”
“She would never have given up like that.”
“You weren’t there. You didn’t see her.”
“I knew her,” Lysander growled. “Better than anyone. She hated drugs, and she hated you, and I know you killed her!”
Alfonzo ignored him. “It’s a real shame, y’know? Me and you, we could have been good friends if things had been different. Doesn’t matter anymore. You’re gonna get a bullet in your head anyway.”
Lysander’s heart skipped a beat at the threat.
“You don’t think my father will come?”
He’d been worrying exactly that. In exchange for his life, Alfonzo was demanding money. Alotof money. And while Lysander knew that Zack wasn’t obsessed by his riches, a part of him wondered if maybe his father wouldn’t want to go to all of this trouble. Wouldn’t it be easier not to show at all? To pretend that nothing had ever happened?
To pretend that Lysander had never come into his life?
“Oh, he’ll show. We’re sure of it.”
“Then why the threat? If he shows, you get your money and this is all over. End of story.”
Alfonzo laughed.
“Wouldn’t be much of a crime family if we let witnesses walk away, would we?” A manic smirk spread across Alfonzo’s face. Lysander didn’t like it in the slightest. “Here’s how things are going to work. Your old man’s gonna show. He’s gonna hand over the money. Then I’m gonna shoot you both in the head.” He reached out a hand and ruffled Lysander’s hair. “Then your stupid family can be together again. You should be thanking me. You’re welcome.”
Lysander knew it was well over one hundred degrees in the warehouse, but he was suddenly cold. Very,verycold.
“You can’t,” he blurted. “If you want to kill me, fine. Go ahead. But don’t kill my dad. He has nothing to do with this.”
“Oh, he has everything to do with this. If he hadn’t offered that reward for Kota’s safe return, you wouldn’t be here now.” He snapped his fingers. “If only she hadn’t died before we’d seen that message. I would have brought her here in a heartbeat.”
Lysander tried not to dwell on it. There was no changing the past. Dakota was dead, and that was that. There was no point in wondering what if.
Besides, there were more important things to be worrying about now — like the fact that Zack was about to walk into a trap, thinking that it would be a simple swap. Because no matter the doubts that Lysander may have been having, Alfonzo was right. Zack would show. That was just the kind of man he was. He had helped Lysander before he had even come to terms with the fact that the boy was his son; he wouldn’t leave him to die now that he knew the truth.
And Lysander couldn’t let his father to die, either. He needed to make sure that Alfonzo’s plans fell through — and fast.
“Five minutes,” one of Alfonzo’s friends announced.
Alfonzo stood.
Given the sudden time limit, Lysander began to panic. He had no plan, no way of warning his father until it was already too late, and no way of clearing the scene of weapons even if he managed to get his hands free. His best shot would be to yell as soon as he saw the door opening. To scream that it was a trap, to tell his father that he needed to run, and to hope against all odds that the man would listen.
