Chapter 34: Chapter 34

Thirty Four - Rescue Mission.

Jake's POV -

"It's been a while baby," I chuckle, passing the small pistol between my hands. It's as smooth as I remember it, not too heavy but with enough weight to get a good grip. The pistol is a perfect fit for my hands, I have lots of love for this gun. It had saved my life quite a few times before and I shake my head, remembering all the memories of scarier days. I point it towards Brett, another gang member and shut one eye, aiming directly in the area his heart is.

"Bang."

Brett clutches his heart dramatically and I lower my gun, grinning at him. He rolls onto the floor, clutching his heart before sputtering and choking. I chuckle at him before tucking my gun back into the waistband of my jeans and cover it over with my shirt and jacket.

"You're so dramatic," I grin towards Brett. He stands up, dusting himself off before replying.

"There's always the dramatic one in every gang," he responds playfully and I chuckle before turning my attention back to my phone. Amil isn't going to show up. . . I should have known.

I sigh heavily, knowing my boss would pull a stunt like this. Instead he sent over two guys to replace him, Brett and Jamie. Both have been gang members for a few years. Jamie is tall and skinny with a blonde buzzcut and Brett is built wide, muscular and has dark jet black hair. I get on well with both guys and don't mind going with them instead of Amil.

He always did get others to do his dirty work for him.

"So we go in, kill Jones and get the girl back basically?" Brett asks me and I nod, pocketing my phone before replying.

"I'll be the first one in, Jones should be by himself but he might have one or two men with him. Basically we're going in blind."

"Take him by surprise, he's a hell of a fighter so watch out for that. He'll probably have a few weapons on him. He's only expecting me to show up so we have the upper hand. Whoever finds Emily first needs to get her away from there as far as possible." I explain. Brett and Jamie nod and I know they wanted to know more about the situation with Emily and I. I don't blame them considering they're risking their lives for her.

"I appreciate what you're doing." I nod towards them and they nod back, signalling they understood. I sigh and head for the door, Brett and Jamie right behind me. The adrenaline is pumping through my veins knowing what we were about to do.

"Let's go."

We all leave the room, closing the door behind us, not knowing if we would ever see the same four walls again.

*****

Emily's POV-

"Eat Emily," DC Jones pushes the plate towards me. I stare back at him, my eyes emotionless and bloodshot from lack of sleep.

"Fuck you," I spit, hatred running through my blood. I feel weak and the last thing on my mind is food. I grimace at the plate before I turn away from him, staring at the same spot on the wall that I've done for hours now. I don't know the time, I don't even know what day it is.

I could only recognise day and night by the small window above me. When the sun streamed through the window, I would lie flat, soaking in the warmth. However when darkness greeted me, so did the cold. I spent my nights shivering in my thin clothes on the floor, praying for someone to come rescue me.

Ever since I found out DC Jones is my biological father, I became emotionless and detached. My mind and thoughts are one big blur and I feel defeated. I've given up, forever staying slumped against the metal bed.

"Emily, eat." Jones demands, pushing the plate towards me once again. I ignore him and instead shut my eyes, picturing my father. My real father.

He looks sad in my thoughts, his eyes full of pained emotion. He always did wear his heart on his sleeve and I knew by looking at his face what kind of emotion he was feeling. I loved that about him, how he was so open and honest. No games, nothing underneath the surface.

What you saw is what you got.

"I want my dad," I whisper, my voice croaky and husky from lack of use. It's the first words I've spoken for a while, the first time my mind isn't jumbled and confused by what I want.

"I'm here." DC Jones responds and I snap my head towards him, eyes burning with a new found fire.

"You are NOT my father! You will never be my father, I hate you. I wish you would have stayed out of my life. What kind of father ties his own daughter up to a metal bed!" I scream, holding my arms up.

"My wrists are bleeding," I continue, my words icy and laced with nothing but venom.

"My wrists have been bleeding because these ropes are so tight and you won't take them off me! Do I look like I'm going to run? Huh?!" I yell, my voice rising.

DC Jones looks taken aback, shocked from my outburst considering I've been silent this whole time. Suddenly his eyes filled with regret and sadness and I scoff at him —

"Regret it now, do you?"

"I am your father," he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"My father's dead!" I shot back at him, swallowing the painful lump I get whenever I speak of him.

"No he's not, I'm your real father! Not that waste of space!" DC Jones snaps, kicking over the chair in the corner. It lands on the floor with a thud and I turn to face him one last time.

"Don't you dare bad mouth him! My father will always be a better father than you, a better man. He's dead and he does a better job than you are right now." I respond, my words angering DC Jones further. His jaw clenches tightly and the vein in his neck pumps with the adrenaline from his anger.

"If you gave me a gun now, I'd shoot you. That's how much I hate you." I say calmly, my words monotoned.

"You're already dead to me," I add before turning over and lying on the cold floor, my back facing DC Jones. I can hear him breathing heavily behind me, digesting my words. He suddenly yells loudly and I hear something heavy smash to the floor.

As he continues to pound the furniture in the room, I close my eyes and let the tears fall silently. It isn't hard to drown out the deafening noises behind me.

I already feel dead inside.

*****

Darkness greets me and the wind whistled through the window into the room, causing me to shiver for the hundred time. The room had dropped in temperature so quickly, I didn't have time to prepare myself. My body felt stiff from lack of movement and the cold air did nothing but make it worse. I shut my eyes tightly and huddle closer to the wall, not caring anymore about the filth it was covered in.

I'm desperate to keep in some of my body heat.

The door suddenly shot open and my eyes flings awake, turning towards him. DC Jones stands there, his own eyes wide with panic. He shut the door before pushing over a large dresser in front of it effortlessly. He turns around and signals for me to stay quiet. I scrunch my brows tightly...

What the hell was going on?

"What are you doing?" I ask huskily, my throat aching as I speak.

"Shut up." DC Jones hisses angrily at me before grabbing something from the back of his jeans. My eyes widen as I make out the small black shape in his hands, a gun. This is it, he's going to kill me.

He walks towards me and I whimper, shutting my eyes as I wait for the barrel of the gun to meet my head.

"Emily." DC Jones hisses and I open my eyes slowly, tears falling fast down my face.

"Don't kill me," I plead and he hisses angrily, lunging himself towards me. I barely have a chance to scream before his large hand is clamped over my mouth, muffling any sound I make. His other hand begins to untie the ropes behind my back, loosening the knots.

"You're coming with me," he growls, his hold on me iron tight. The tears fall faster and my heart thumps wildly in my chest, threatening to break through. I can feel the pounding of my heartbeat in my ears.

"Please," I whimper, pleading for my life.

"Shut up." DC Jones repeats into my ear. One of his hands holds the gun and I cry, terrified of it being so close to me. I hear something rustle outside of the door and my eyes widen immediately.

Someone is here.

This was it, this was my chance to get the hell out of here. I instantly scream loudly, shouting for help. DC Jones hand tightens over my mouth, muffling my screams. I lash out wildly, head butting DC Jones in the process. His immediate reaction is to let go and cradle his head where I smashed mine into his. I shuffle away from him as much as I can before taking a deep breath —

"Help! I'm in here! Please help me! Help!"

My lungs ache and DC Jones charges towards me, angrier than a bull in a flaming bullfight. His hand shoots out and he punches the side of my head, causing me to fall hard onto the floor. The pounding in my head is now so loud, I couldn't hear anything besides the ringing in my ears. The spot where he punched me throbs painfully and I groan, crying in pain. DC Jones wastes no time in pointing the barrel of his gun against my temple.

"Make one more sound and I swear to god, I will blow your brains out!" He threatens, hissing into my ear. My eyes widen in fear and I immediately quieten down, the only sounds coming from me my quiet whimpers. The cold barrel against my temple felt so alien, so wrong.

I stare at the door and will that my screams for help have been heard. It isn't before the doorknob turns and my breath catches in my throat as I wait for them to make their way in here.

Please help me. Just open the door.

"Its locked," I hear the muffled voice outside the door, the furniture in the way of letting them in. DC Jones stiffens behind me and he presses the gun further against my skin. His other hand is over my mouth and my chest rises up and down from the adrenaline running through my body. My head is still pounding and my eyes are persuading me to close them but I can't, not now.

The door rattles once more before everything grows silent. My heart drops as I hear footsteps retreat, they were leaving. I whimper again, the hope in me fading away just like their footsteps.

"That's right, go away." DC Jones whispers behind me. I could practically see his eyes twinkling, the smirk on his face so evident at not being discovered. I slump against him, my eyes finally drifting shut, not caring what happens to me from now on.

I'm not sure if I'm dreaming but the door flies open, sending the dresser crashing towards us.

Three dark figures stood in the doorway.

Or is that my imagination?

My ears are still ringing, my vision blurred so I eventually give in. I feel my eyes roll to the back of my head and I black out. The last thing I remember is a loud bang and I pray the reason I'm fading away isn't because I have a bullet through my head.