Chapter Text
“Thanks for letting me finish my run, Tim.” Destiny said, as she shoved her gym clothes, shoes and I-pod back into the black bag she carried with her. She glanced back at Tim who was sitting behind a desk thumbing through the latest issue of a body building magazine. He was completely bald and over fifty, but he was built like a brick shithouse, and he had a great tan. He was in better shape than most men half his age.
“No problem, girlie, you know I don’t mind. I have to stay up late tonight anyway since it’s mine and Gina’s anniversary.” Tim waggled his white eyebrows, and laughed at the amused expression on Destiny’s face.
“Alright,” she chuckled. “Have fun with that, and I will see you…Tuesday.”
“Are you sure you don’t need me to walk you home? I really don’t like you young ones walking alone at night.”
“I’m fine Tim. I can take care of myself, besides I live just a few blocks away. Thanks for the offer though.” She waved at Tim as she slung the straps on her bag over her shoulders. The front door to the gym dinged softly as she exited the building, and started walking to her apartment. Going to the gym was something she did on a tri-weekly basis; she didn’t do it to build muscle tone, or to look like a walking Bow Flex advertisement. She did it for a very plain and simple reason; it was something to do to pass the time. When you lived alone, it seemed that time stretched on forever, and Destiny was tired of going to the library and wasting her day away reading books and watching the same ridiculous drama on T.V. Hitting the gym helped to fill up her nights, helped to wear her down enough so she could sleep. It helped keep the ever yawning loneliness at bay.
She walked past an antique store on her left and a little coffee shop on the corner. Destiny hopped across a little side street and back onto the sidewalk, she gazed up at the title on the community theatre as she strolled by. Her apartment complex was located past the next set of buildings, down a skinny alleyway on the left and across the main four lane street.
Her footsteps echoed quietly on the pavement as she went down the passageway, then suddenly her gym bag was grabbed off her shoulders, and she was being pulled into a space between the backend of two buildings. Her fingers scraped brick as she struggled to find purchase, her feet dug in the asphalt, making a loud noise as she was yanked from behind. She yelped in surprise, then grimy fingers clamped over her mouth. Destiny’s hand reached up to peel the fingers off her lips, trying to scream the whole time. She was spun around wildly and pushed up against the nearest brick wall. Her legs started kicking frantically, aiming for a knee, or a groin.
“Let me go!” she shrieked, panic quickening her breath as she fought against her assailant. The man pinning her against the wall spat out a curse as her heel caught him right in the abdomen. Destiny was jerking her head left and right as he continued to try and silence her with his beefy palm. “Please, let me go! Help!” her muffled voice was getting more frantic in pitch. Her hands were scratching at his wrist, grabbing at the hand that covered her mouth; her sweat soaked fingers were clumsy and ineffective.
Out of nowhere his hand moved in a quick arc and then came this white, blinding pain against the side of her head. Destiny staggered sideways and fell to the ground hard, the right side of her face skinned against the blacktop. She didn’t waste time thinking about the pain, but scrambled up, dodged the arm that grabbed at her and she started running back down the alley. Her attacker followed suit, chasing her down. Destiny’s legs felt shaky and trembled as she ran, causing her to nearly trip as she started off.
She heard the loud rapport of a gun and realized she was being shot at. Her arms rose up to cover her head and she shouted for help, but no one came to her aid. Destiny ran faster, her gasps for breath echoing in her ears, her heart thudding like a war drum in her head. She knew if she didn’t find help, or find cover, she was going to die. At the end of the alley and across the street was her apartment, if she could make it there she would be safe, surely.
Against her instinct to gaze forward and to keep hurrying; she looked back over her shoulder. She fearfully realized her mistake when she saw that he was closer than she thought, and he had a finger on the trigger of his handgun. Destiny didn’t even have time to turn her head forward or to think her next thought before her world went gray and then black. She was completely gone before she hit the pavement.
* * *
Hunter Elliot was in the process of unlocking his car when he heard the first gunshot. His dark head whipped in the direction of the sound and he started running down the sidewalk. He heard a sharp scream of help that sounded like it came from a woman. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to make it in time, then he heard a second shot just a few seconds later. He poured on the strength, hoping to get there before someone ended up hurt. Hunter almost missed the person lying on the ground in an alley to his right. He skidded to a stop and jogged a few yards inward to where the body lay. There was a tall figure sprinting out the other side of the pathway as Hunter was coming in. Scanning the small walkway he could see a bag knocked over about one hundred feet behind the body.
He was careful as he stepped around the small pool of blood that was continually growing on the pavement. “Hello?” Hunter whispered, as he hunkered down next to the injured being and found himself nudging smooth, chocolate brown hair away from the face of the person lying at his feet, to reveal a striking beauty in profile. There was blood running down the side of her face, coating in her hair, and Hunter could see the circle in the side of her skull where the second shot must have found its mark. She had a rough scrape along her cheek, and when he moved her head to check for other injuries, Hunter spotted a swelling bruise on her left temple.
She must have been pistol whipped, he mused. Even so he could see she was fit, and remarkably healthy, and he noticed the stunning beauty of her form and face beneath the destruction of a bullet. She wore no jewelry, no makeup and her clothes weren’t torn. There seemed to be no evidence of a robbery or sexual assault. “Can you hear me?” He got no response from the young lady. He felt for a pulse and found one, thin and thready. Hunter watched her chest as it rose and fell with her slow, shallow breaths.
A car zoomed past the other entrance, and Hunter had no doubt that the light Caprice belonged to the man who had quickly left the scene.
Hunter looked down again at the wounded female bleeding on his shoes. She may have been close to death, but she was alive, if barely. To him, that was the only thing that counted.
He pulled the cellphone out of his back pocket and made a phone call.
* * *
“I thought I told you to kill her, you incompetent idiot!” he barked into the phone.
“I did, sir. Shot her in the head, just like your orders stated. I watched her fall flat on her face.”
“Then explain to me why she’s lying here in front of me still breathing. Did I mention she has a heartbeat too? Do you know what that means?”
“Uh, it means she’s still alive, sir.”
“No.” he bit out. “It means that you didn’t do your job. It means that the quarter of a million dollars I paid you as security goes back into my pocket, and the remaining sum I promised is null and void.”
“But, but sir, I shot--”
“I want my money back.” He growled viciously, silencing the other man’s sputtering protests. “In three weeks’ time, I’m coming to your apartment, and I’m going to collect.”
“But I already…I can’t get it back in three weeks! Give me two months, sir.”
“Keep trying to negotiate with me, and I’ll make it two weeks.” he threatened.
The man on the other line swallowed audibly. “Okay, okay whatever you want. Three weeks, I’ll get it all back. Three weeks.”
“I want it in large unmarked bills, wrapped, and in the briefcase I sent you.”
“Yes, I still have the briefcase, I’ll get it done.”
“Good.”
“But ah…what should I do about the gun? I still have it.”
“Consider it a parting gift. I’ll take care of everything and finish the job myself. Don’t worry; I’ll see to it that you don’t get your hands dirty.” He hung up the phone.