Page 80 of If You Could See the Sun
“But—”
“Payment is nonnegotiable. Of course, you can use WeChat Pay if you’d prefer, or scan this QR code on my phone, or get a discount by signing into your hotel account, then registering through one of our five affiliates...”
While Henry rambles on about hotel policies and bank sponsors and viable memberships, I sneak out through the door. The scene that greets me looks like something out of a low-budget action film: the parking lot is empty, save for an old dust-covered van rotting away in the far corner and a sleek black vehicle that’s surrounded by three men. All of them have their backs toward me, their attention on Henry.
Henry, who’s positioned his body directly in front of the car, has rested both hands on the hood, so they’d have to run over him just to drive away.
It’s a good strategy, I reason with myself, fighting the strong compulsion to push Henry out of the way, to protect him.They wouldn’t want to—wouldn’tdare—kill the son of the hotel owner. It’d get far too messy.
I just have to rescue Peter before the kidnappers lose their patience, and their ability to think rationally.
Careful not to make a sound, I duck my head and creep closer to the car trunk, heart pounding in my throat. Then I get a good look at the license plate: N150Q4. Sear it into my brain.
Henry is still talking. “...Bank of China is actually offering a limited-time promotion on the app—”
“Wait,” the man at the front interrupts, and the shift in his tone—from annoyance to something else, something like suspicion—leaves my mouth dry. I glance up.
Henry doesn’t move, though his eyes are wary. “What?”
“I think I recognize you,” the man says, and everything seems to freeze. Blur at the edges. The lights overhead flicker and the low parking lot ceiling threatens to collapse on me. “You—you were in that magazine article. And thatChina Insiderinterview... You’re the son of the SYS founder, aren’t you?”
For a split second, panic flashes over Henry’s features.
Only a second. But it’s enough.
“Who sent you?” the kidnapper growls, stepping around the car’s blazing headlights, his shadow stretching out menacingly over the concrete. He advances on Henry.“Who?”
Before I can react, Henry raises a fist and swings it into the man’s face.Hard.I swear I hear the crack of bone as the man hisses and stumbles backward, hands covering his nose, and all my thoughts fracture—
Henry punched somebody.
Henry punched somebody.
Henry Li just punched somebody.
Nothing about this night feels real.
Henry looks almost as stunned as I am; he stares at the hunched-over man, then at his own clenched fist, as if some unknown force might have possessed him. Which would honestly make more sense than what just happened; I doubt Henry has even given anyone a fist bump before.
But then the two other men rush over, and Henry tackles the first kidnapper to the ground with a resoundingthud, and everything descends into utter chaos.
I can’t see what’s going on from where I’m hiding, can only hear the muffled grunts of pain and repeated collision of limbs, of bodies pushed onto the floor, and Henry’s voice when he yells—
“Catch.”
Something small and silver flies through the air in a perfect arc. I don’t even think; I just spring up and reach for it, my fingers closing over the metallic object. Car keys.
Of course.
Pulse speeding, I unlock the car and yank open the car door.
Peter’s curled up in the back seat, next to an opened pack of bottled water. Horror and relief crash through my chest at the sight of him.He’s alive.He’s alive and awake and staring at me like I might be a ghost as I free his arms, help pull him out. His knees wobble violently, but he manages to stand.
Ahead of us, the sounds of the struggle intensify.
Henry.
“Go inside,” I order Peter. “Wait for us by the door.”
