Chapter 1
The first gunshot echoed through the park before I’d even finished my cigarette.
I froze, smoke burning my lungs as my eyes swept over the empty paths.
A second shot rang out. Then a third.
So much for disappearing into the dark.
I came here because no one bothered me here. For ten minutes, I could sit on a worn-out bench beneath a broken lamppost and pretend I didn’t exist. Pretend I didn’t have a boyfriend waiting at home with a bottle in one hand and a punch in the other.
Most people would’ve run from gunshots. But I never had much talent for making smart decisions.
I crushed the cigarette beneath my shoe and headed toward the sound.
The park was eerily quiet, the broken streetlights leaving long stretches of the path swallowed in darkness. My pulse quickened with every step.
Then I heard footsteps. Fast. Coming straight toward me.
Instinct took over. I slipped off the path and ducked behind the thick oak tree, holding my breath. A man sprinted past. Black hoodie. Dark jeans.
A cap pulled low over his face. He never looked back.
I waited until his footsteps disappeared before stepping out.
“What the hell...” My hand trembled slightly as I pulled out my phone and switched on the flashlight. The beam cut through the darkness.
“Hello?” I called. No answer. “Is anyone hurt?”
A body lay a few meters ahead. At first it looked too still.
Then it moved. I hurried forward. It was a man.
Blood covered one hand while the other was pressed tightly against his stomach. “Oh, shit.” I dropped to my knees beside him.
“Don’t move. I’m calling an ambulance.”
I had barely unlocked my phone before his hand shot out and gripped my wrist. His strength caught me completely off guard.
“No...” His voice was strained. “No ambulance.”
I stared at him. “Do you want to die?”
He slowly shook his head. With shaking fingers, he reached into his pocket and pushed an old Nokia phone into my hand.
“The... first contact.” He swallowed hard.
“Tell him... Alexey’s been shot.” His breathing hitched.
“Tell him... where I am.” I looked at the phone and the man lying in front of me. Nothing about this felt normal. But neither did the amount of blood soaking through his shirt. I opened the Nokia and found the first contact.
The call connected after one ring. “Yes.”
“Uh...” I glanced down at the injured man. “I was told to call. Alexey’s been shot. He’s in Black Alley Park, just inside the entrance where the lampposts are out.” I breathed, “Is he conscious?”
“Yes... but barely.”
“Keep him awake.” The line went dead. I stared at the phone.
That was it? No panic? No questions?
I looked back at Alexey. His eyes had already started drifting closed.
“Hey.” I touched his shoulder. “Stay with me.”
He didn’t respond. I quickly unwound my scarf and rolled it into a thick bundle.
“I’m sorry.” Carefully lifting his blood-soaked hand away from his stomach, I pressed the scarf firmly against the wound.
He groaned through clenched teeth.
“I know,” I whispered. “I know. But I need to stop the bleeding.”
Blood immediately seeped through the fabric. Too much blood.
“Come on, Alexey.” His breathing slowed. I slapped his cheek.
“Don’t you dare pass out.” His eyes opened for a second before glazing over again.
“Stay with me, okay?”
Moments later, footsteps thundered across the path.
This time more than one pair. Two men emerged from the darkness, both dressed in black. Neither looked surprised. One crouched beside Alexey.
“You.” He looked directly at me. “Keep pressure on the wound.”
The other grabbed Alexey beneath the shoulders. “Lift his legs.”
Together they carried him toward the park entrance.
I jogged beside them, my hands never leaving the blood-soaked scarf.
Outside, two black SUVs waited with their engines running.
“Get in.” I looked up. “Where are you taking him?”
“Get in.” His voice wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be.
I hesitated. If I let go... Alexey would bleed out.
Swallowing hard, I climbed into the back seat and knelt on the floor, keeping pressure against the wound as the SUV tore away from the curb.
The two men got into the front seat, and the car was soon out on the streets. The SUV flew through the streets. Every sharp turn threw me against the seat while I fought to keep pressure on Alexey’s wound.
We arrived outside a huge carport, and once we rolled inside, everything happened quickly.
The SUV hadn’t even come to a complete stop before several men rushed over with a stretcher. “Easy! Watch the wound.”
“Move!” Alexey was transferred onto the stretcher in one practiced motion before disappearing through a pair of heavy metal doors.
I just stood there. My scarf was soaked in blood.
I stared after them, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
This wasn’t a hospital. It looked like a warehouse. Concrete floors.
Several expensive cars. Security cameras in every corner.
Men in dark clothing. Armed. No one looked surprised that a bleeding man had just been wheeled inside. My phone vibrated. I looked down. Martin. My stomach tightened. “Shit,” I answered immediately.
“I know, I’m late. I’m sorry.”
“Damn right you’re fucking late. Where the fuck are you, Bailey?”
I looked around the warehouse.
“...It’s kind of hard to explain.”
“Don’t play games with me.”
His voice became sharper. “You left work over an hour ago.”
“I know.”
“So where the fuck are you?”
I rubbed my forehead. “I... I helped someone.”
Silence. “Who?”
Before I could answer, someone shouted from behind me.
“Hey! No phones.” I turned around.
One of the men strode toward me.
“What do you mean, no phones?” I frowned. “I need to take this call, and I need to go home.”
Martin’s voice came through the speaker again. “Bailey?”
The man stopped in front of me. “Phone.”
“What?”
“Give me the phone.”
“No.” He didn’t argue. He simply reached out, pulled it from my hand, and pressed the power button until the screen went black. “Hey!”
I took a step after him. “What the hell are you doing?”
“No phones.” He tucked it into his pocket. “No leave.”
“What do you mean, no leave?” My pulse quickened. “I have to go home.”
He didn’t answer. He simply turned and walked away. “Hey!”
I hurried after him. “Give me my phone back!”
He ignored me. I followed him through the metal doors into a long hallway. “Hey!” Still nothing. “I’m talking to you!”
He finally stopped. “You no go here.”
“I’ll go wherever I want.” I folded my arms.
“And you’re going to give me my phone back.” His eyes narrowed.
“You got attitude.” I let out a dry laugh. “You’re the one keeping me hostage?” For the first time, something flickered across his face.
Not amusement. Recognition. “You come.”
“Come where?”
“We talk.”
“I don’t want to talk. I want my phone. I want to go home.”
He sighed. “No phone. No home. Not now.”
A chill crept down my spine. “What do you mean, not now?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he opened a heavy steel door.
“Inside.” I hesitated.
Every instinct told me not to walk into that room. But there were at least half a dozen armed men in the hallway. Running wasn’t exactly an option.
I stepped inside. The room was small. Two metal chairs. One steel table bolted to the floor. Dark stains marked the concrete in places I didn’t want to think about. The man remained standing while I slowly sat down.
“Did you hear the shots?”
“Yes.”
“How many?”
“Three.”
“You sure?” I frowned. “Yes.”
He studied me for several long seconds before asking another question.
“Where were you?”
“I was sitting on a bench smoking.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
I hesitated. Because I didn’t want to go home. Because Martin would be drunk. Because sitting alone in the dark felt safer than my own apartment.
“I finished a late shift at the bar. I wanted a cigarette before I went home.” He continued watching me. “What did you see?”
“I heard footsteps after the shooting.”
I closed my eyes, trying to remember. “I hid behind a tree. A man ran past.”
“Big?”
“No.”
“Small?”
“No... average.”
I thought for another moment.
“He wore dark jeans. A black hoodie. A cap.”
“I think...” I frowned. “I think he had a silver ring on his left hand.”
The man remained silent. “That’s all I remember.” He nodded once.
“You did well.” Relief washed over me. “Great.”
I stood. “So can I leave now?” His expression never changed. “No.”
The relief disappeared instantly. “What?”
“You stay.”
“No.” I shook my head. “No, I answered your questions. My boyfriend already knows something is wrong because you took my phone. He’ll probably call the police.”
“I don’t make decision.”
“Then who does?” His jaw tightened. “You wait.”
“For who?” He held my gaze for a long moment before replying.
“...Alexey.” I blinked. “The man I saved?” He gave a single nod.
“Until he wakes up.”
“And if he doesn’t?” Silence. The room suddenly felt much smaller.
The man opened the door. “Wait here.” The lock clicked behind him.
I stared at the steel door. For the first time since finding Alexey...
I realized I wasn’t a witness anymore. I was a prisoner.
