Ray'd been up for hours. He hadn't called anyone. Calling someone would be admitting that he'd fucked up - and Ray was not free of faults. Admission of guilt always was something he had a hard time with.
He'd been scouring the streets since one in the morning, more of his attention down on the compass-inspired pendant he held in his palm than his actual surroundings. At times, the pendant warmed, at others, cooled. Sometimes the needle pointed in one direction for minutes at a time - once, for an entire half an hour - and sometimes it moved unpredictably, too fast. But Ray didn't waste time trying to figure out how it was possible - if he stopped to think, he'd end up thinking, and thinking right now was not going to lead him anywhere good. Right now, he just had to act.
Eventually, the sun rose. It was a gradual thing, of course, but Ray didn't notice until it was up and shining and day. From pitch black in the badly lit backalleys, squinting down at the compass cradled in his palm, and the next thing he knew, birds were chirping and he was squinting against the sun instead.
And still no sign of her.
He should have gone with. He shouldn't have been so cocky, to think nothing would happen tonight. He should have kept a closer eye on her. He should have been less trusting. He should have listened a little better to that feeling in his gut, the one that made him pull her close right before she left, the one that had him deepening the goodbye kiss she gave him into something that bordered on not quite appropriate for public.
But 'should have's didn't help anyone right now. Ray knew that. Right now, he had to act.
And sometimes, someone else does the acting for you.
It was close to nine in the morning - a little bit after; his lieutenant had just called him, probably to see where he was, but Ray didn't know for sure because he didn't pick up - when Himmel called. Ray answered, his heart pounded in his ears, he felt faint. "Where is she?" Somehow, his voice didn't waver; it came out low, threatening. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was surprised to hear it like that.
"She's feisty," Himmel laughed. It was not a nice laugh. "You've got two hours. Half a mil, and she'll stay alive until tomorrow. You fuck around, Kowalski, and, well - she's not gonna be so feisty anymore. Warehouse on Eighteenth and Sheldon." Click.
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So I was a little early. What's wrong with being early? Better than being late.
And okay, so I didn't bring any money. So I didn't intend on bringing any money. Dax wanted me to bring money. Didn't want to risk it, he said. Me, I guess I just don't mind the risk.
So I didn't exactly knock and announce. So I kind of crept around the side of this place, thinking maybe I could do something to distract him while Christine got away.
And it was tricky, you know? He was tricky. I don't know how he knew that the compass would be a lure, but he did. I knew she had to be there - well, turns out you can 'know' something and not know something at all.
I swore she was in there. She was right on the other side of that door in the back - had to be. The compass was pointing right there, and it was so fucking warm. So fucking warm.
I'll spare the details. Main point is, it wasn't her. Main point is, I got hit in the face so hard I saw stars in the next universe over. Main point is, I am a scrappy fighter and I can hold my own okay - better than okay, come on, let's not be modest here - but Himmel's got fifty pounds on me and a few inches. Himmel had the element of surprise. Himmel also had a gun pointed right at my forehead after he had me down on the ground. I can't focus on what he's saying because my head hurts too bad and maybe my nose is broken - but he's ranting, he's gonna kill me, he's gonna fuckin' kill me. I can't fuck with him, nobody fucks with him. The usual stuff.
And second surprise of the night - Chace comes out of nowhere and bowls this guy over. Shot goes off, but I'm okay this time. And then I've got my gun and it's my turn for some fucking 'I'm gonna kill you, I'm gonna kill you' talk.
Because I am. I really fucking am.
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Ray has the gun pointed at Himmel, and he means it when he says he's going to kill him. He means it with every fiber of his being, every cell, every breath, every heartbeat. He has the gun pointed at Himmel, who's down on the ground, groaning from the blow Chace delivered to his head - he has the gun pointed at Himmel, and he means what he says, but his hand is shaking.
"So nobody fucks with you, huh? I can't fuck with you?" Ray's whole body is shaking - adrenaline, rage. His eyes are narrowed, his jaw is set, and other than the fact that he can't keep his aim steady, a more intimidating man he's never been. "Is blowing your goddamn brains out fucking with you?"
"Ray, you don't want to do this." Chace hadn't left, and Ray hadn't hallucinated him - he's standing a few paces off from the other two men, hands up at shoulder level, making what was supposed to be a calming gesture. "You don't mean that."
"What the fuck do you know, Chace?" Ray's snapping over his shoulder at the lawyer, only taking his eyes off of Himmel for a fraction of a second. "You don't know what he put us through. You don't know what he was gonna do to her. Fuckin' shithead deserves to die." Ray's finger tightens on the trigger - but he knows his weapon well; it doesn't fire, and he hadn't meant it to. Not yet. "Right?" Addressing Himmel now, though the man is still trying to catch his breath, laying on the dirty floor of the warehouse. "Fuckin' disgrace to the uniform. Sick excuse for a human being. Ain't that right, Himmel? Nicky?" The cocky, sneering look on Ray's face wasn't affected badly by the fact that blood was smeared from his nose to his chin. If anything, it just made him look like he'd lost it even more - and maybe he had.
"Fuck you," Himmel forces out - in pain, still with the wind knocked out of him. Defenseless, his own gun knocked out of his hand when Chace hit him, but defiant. To the end, defiant. Ray knows that feeling - they are too much alike. Too much alike. "You don't have the balls."
"Oh-ho, I don't have the fucking balls, no?" Without warning, Ray kicks the man curled up fetal on the ground in the gut. Kept him from catching his breath. Himmel curls up tighter; Ray crouches down and sets the mouth of his Beretta's barrel carefully, tenderly, almost, against Himmel's forehead. "Don't have the balls? You wish I didn't. You wish. But you've had this comin' for a long time, Nicky. You picked the wrong guy's wife to fuck with. Shoulda checked me out a little better." Ray presses his gun harder against Himmel's forehead suddenly, not letting up when the back of the man's head slams against the concrete. "Little bit of a loose cannon. Little bit crazy. Maybe, you know, maybe sometimes I take things a little far when people I love get hurt."
"Ray, think about this. You want to be that guy?" Chace takes one more step toward the pair, though if Ray pulls the trigger, there's nothing Chace could do. "You really think Christine wants to be married to a guy like him? She married you."
Ray'd been practically panting for breath, everything written across his face pure anger, revenge - because this wasn't just Himmel he was facing, this was Brad, this was Chace, this was that nameless stalker from last summer, every motherfucker that'd ever hurt her, ever hurt her, his precious, perfect wife - but when Chace brings Christine into the conversation, he holds his breath, his expression goes blank. He's still looking at Himmel, but maybe he's looking at himself, too. And maybe he doesn't like seeing himself there. Maybe he doesn't like that a couple of weeks ago, Christine saw a little of Brad in him, he thinks.
Maybe there's a better way to kill that part of himself off without actually doing any killing.
A shudder goes through Ray's body; it's barely perceptible by the other two. Himmel just sneers up at Ray, defiant. Chace stands a couple feet off, hands still up, ready, even though there's nothing else he can do beyond what he's already done.
Several heartbeats go by. Ray feels each of them thud in his ears. Feels the way his breaths are a little ragged and catch in his throat. And after a long, long moment, he pulls the gun away from Himmel's brow and straightens up while flicking the safety back on. For another long moment, Ray and Himmel look at each other. Himmel looks triumphant. Ray looks a little sad, a little bit like he pities the guy - but mostly, he looks thankful. Relieved.
"Chace, is Christine outside?" When the lawyer nodded, Ray turned his back on Himmel and headed to the door of the warehouse that'd lead back outside. "Watch him, okay?" He handed Chace his Beretta on his way past, rocked his head roughly to one side to crack his neck, and did not look back.
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