Chapter Eight

Loren

 

My eyes snap open wide as the voices echo in the distance. I huddle against an air vent in my private concrete prison, where they shoved me right after Sal left. Just as I think I might freeze to death before being sold to some fucking psychopath pervert, I manage to slide across the floor and plant myself in front of a thin stream of heat coming through the grates.

“You’ve kept her alive for too long.”

“I have my orders.” A loud gasp hisses through the tape slapped over my lips. Braxton was supposed to…kill me? Chest tight, my eyes dart left and right. Fuck. The room is bare, save for a thin area rug covering a portion of the floor. I need to get out of here before they come back to find me, but without a weapon, I’m defenseless. I can’t exactly use his own self-defense instructions against him.

“So you’re telling me Sal wants to sell her along with the others? After everything she’s seen? No way. It’s too risky.”

“Take it up with him.”

“What the fuck kind of assassin are you? She’s lasted six weeks longer than she should have on your watch, and…”

A sob rises in my throat, but it has no means of escape. My chest is so tight, heaving like crazy as if my body can’t draw in enough breath to survive. I inhale through my nose, and the stench of stale nicotine makes me want to vomit. Hell, I’d hurl all over this floor if my mouth wasn’t taped tightly shut like goddamn Fort Knox. This dungeon is dark and bleak, just like my existence. A shiver runs through me, feeling like the angel of death as she weaves her way through my insides. It’s pretty fucking clear to me that my life is over. I may not be physically dead, but the end result will be the same.

My thoughts are laced with panic, fear seeping into every cell of my body. My wrists are bound with a thick rope, and pulling them apart is futile.

Brax…what the fuck is happening? He said he was getting out, said he would fix things so we could escape…together! But he let Gaetano wrap his hands around my throat, again, and watched him restrain me without so much as a shred of remorse. And that parting comment from Sal about Brax knowing what to do. Sal was looking right at me when he said it! All of a sudden, pieces of the puzzle fall into place, the clarity lancing my heart like a dagger.

He’s going to kill me.

After weeks of radio silence, Braxton finally shows up, evasive, secretive, and unwilling to commit to an escape plan. I squeeze my eyes shut, but it doesn’t stop the hot tears from streaming down my cheeks.

He’s with them.

Only one tiny little detail keeps the flicker of hope alive in my heart.

That night at the restaurant…it had been Brax who attacked Gaetano, giving me the precious seconds I needed to escape near-death. He sent me here, to his apartment. Was he baiting me, knowing the whole time I’d never run without him? Oh God! Is it possible he’s been playing me the whole time? Even though he let me go? Nothing makes sense anymore. All his promises, the vows of forever; it’s all bullshit. My heart shatters right along with the dream.

The fact that I’m still very much alone in this darkened room should be proof enough that I’m more important to him as a saleable product than anything else. Maybe he’ll even get a bonus for handing me over in one piece. Fucker.

I tug at the rope again, my squeal of frustration muffled by the duct tape plastered across my mouth. A door at the opposite corner of the room creaks open, a single glimmer of light providing a soft glow. It’s too dark to make out much, but my ears perk up when I hear heavy footsteps approach and stop next to me. The figure dressed in black falls to his knees, a powerful hand cupping my chin and tilting it upward. I squint, my eyes adjusting to the surroundings.

“Are you okay?” Braxton’s hand moves to the back of my head, smoothing my hair.

I nod and grunt, since that’s all I can do at this point.

His fingers move to the corner of the tape. “I’m going to pull this off. One, two…” he didn’t wait for three. He yanked on two and I chomped on my bottom lip to keep the scream from reverberating between the walls. I clap a hand over my now-raw skin. Guess I won’t need a lip wax anytime soon.

I gulp in the air, filling my lungs with oxygen and some kind of noxious smell. I don’t give a shit. I can breathe. And yell. I’m not going down easy.

His lips curl upward, his forehead pressing against mine. “Lor—“

Adrenaline courses through my veins and I yank backward then forward, slamming my head against his. The force makes me temporarily forget why the hell I’m tied up, until reality hits me like a brick once again. Probably not my smartest move, but screw it. I’ll fight like a hellcat before I let anyone sell me off to the highest bidder.

“Ow!” He presses a hand to his forehead, tumbling into a wall. “Why the fuck did you do that?”

“You fucking lied to me! You never wanted to get out! You let me escape so I’d come here, follow you right into the lion’s den! Tell me,” I sputter, “Do you get a cut of my sale since you helped bring me in? I hope you negotiated a good price for my pussy, you motherfucker!”

He grabs my shoulders and holds me still. “Loren,” he hisses. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I heard your voice!” My voice is high-pitched, bordering hysterical. If there were windows in this dungeon, they’d have shattered by now. “Through the vent! You said—you said—“

“I said what?”

“You’re an-n-n assassin-n-n!” My teeth chatter incessantly with no sign of stopping, not when panic has eclipsed any bit of sanity remaining. “You k-k-kill in-n-nocent people!”

“Lor, you know what I am. And you also know I’m out.” He reaches behind me and unknots the rope. I circle my sore wrists and clench my fists to make sure blood is circulating once again, then launch one of my fists directly at his jaw.

I’m too damned slow.

He catches my fist in his hand, a millisecond before it collides with his face. “What are you doing? You’re acting like a crazy person!”

“You will not sell me, you bastard!” With an elbow to his chin, I have the precious seconds I need to get out of this pit. I leap to my feet, and lunge for the door, toward what’ll likely be a very narrow escape, considering those thugs are probably lining the perimeter from the outside. For the briefest of moments, I recall the others…those poor women who’d been taken from their former existences, drugged, and God only knows what in preparation for the hell they are about to endure. But that won’t be me. Fuck, no.

Guilt gnaws at my conscience with each step closer to the door, but I can’t stop…not now, not for anyone. I pull open the heavy metal door and squint at the sunlight drenching the corridor.

“Loren!” Braxton’s voice tugs my heart backward, tinged with an emotion I don’t recognize. It gives me pause, but only until I hear footsteps pounding on the concrete, getting louder and closer with each passing second. Christ, they’re coming at me from all sides. My head twists left, then right, and before I can grasp the large knob of the main door and push my way to freedom, I’m surrounded by a group of hulking men with guns pointed directly at me.

“Stand down!” Brax appears, panting, a thin trickle of blood drizzling from the corner of his lip. My small victory in a game that’s about to claim my life as the grand prize.

Every outreached arm drops, every eye on Braxton as he inches closer to me.

“Don’t touch me, you motherfucker!” I pound on his chest as he closes the space between us. “You lied! You lied! I hate you!”

“Lor,” he whispers. “I didn’t lie.”

“That’s right, sweetie. He didn’t. What he did do was fuck up royally. But that’s a story for another day, and we don’t have time to rehash the mess he created.”

I peek over Braxton’s shoulder and recognize the beefy guy who’d been waiting for me in the apartment, the one who’d kidnapped me, and dragged me down to this hellhole. The one named Cox. He saunters into the room, shaking his head. “Jesus, Brax, you let her bitch slap you like that? Maybe we need her on the team instead.”

Braxton turns in the direction of the voice. “Not now, Cox. We have bigger problems.”

“Like the fact that your girlfriend almost got herself killed, when we were trying to protect her?”

I press my finger to my temples. Wait…what?

“No, dick, like the fact that Gaetano will be back here any minute. We don’t have a lot of time to—“

Screeching tires come to a halt right outside the building, so close I think they might just plow through the front door.

“Fuck,” Braxton mutters, squeezing my shoulder. “You’re gonna have to trust me here, Loren. If you love me, you’ll believe in me, and trust that I will never let anything hurt you, okay?”

I swallow hard, but the lump lodged in my throat continues to grow on a definitive course to asphyxiate me. “Wh-what’s happening? And what did he mean, protect me? I don’t understand what’s going on, Brax. Please tell me!”

“This ain’t a social call, sweetie.” Cox pulls out his gun and nods his head toward the others. “Brax, we’re out.” They all scatter, out of sight almost instantaneously, but still lurking. Why would they leave like that? They’re leaving Brax all by himself to face off against this lunatic? What the hell is wrong with them?

“B-Brax, wh-why are they leaving? And who are they? What’s happening?”

Braxton tilts my head upward. “You need to go back inside. Stay quiet. I promise you’ll be safe.“

The door slams open before I can peel my feet off the floor, and Gaetano saunters into the room, a thick cloud of smoke polluting the air around him. He flashes a nasty smirk in my direction. “What’s the matter, Brax? Needed one more fuck before you blow her head off?”

Braxton squares his shoulders and turns to face Gaetano. “Did you bring the stuff for tonight?”

Gae creeps closer, circling Braxton like he’s a lion about to pounce on his meal after not eating for a week. “I brought something better. Something that’s gonna prove what I’ve known all along, you double-crossing cocksucker.”

“Prove what? That I’m more loyal to your uncle than you are? That all of your men would rather work for me? That your own blood trusts me more than he does you?” Braxton pulls himself to his full height and Gaetano barely blinks. My heart thumps, the sound reverberating between my ears, muting cries from the women bound in their own prisons.

“And he’ll live to regret that. The old man’s gone soft in his old age. You know it as well as I do.” Gae stops pacing and folds his arms over his massive chest. “It’s time for a new boss. As soon as I can eighty-six the rat.”

Rat?

“Is that your play? Kill me to prove I’m the leak?” Braxton shakes his head. “You’ve been looking for an excuse to get rid of me since I first showed up at the bar, when your uncle introduced me as his new right hand.”

Gaetano reaches back and swings a beefy fist at Braxton, who blocks it with ease. He smiles at Gae, whose chest is heaving from the unexpected burst of energy required for the punch.

“Stick with weapons, man. You’ll give yourself a heart attack if you opt for hand to hand combat.” Braxton snickers.

“Oh, you’re laughing now,” Gae pants. “Bring her in!” He calls out over his shoulder.

The muffled weeping sound cuts through the white noise, and all air rushes from my body, leaving my mouth hanging wide open with no ability to scream, cry, or beg.

One of Gaetano’s men drags Taylor in by her arm and drops her to the floor in a heap. She’s bound, bloodied, and barely conscious.

A sharp gasp escapes my mouth, my limbs numb and immobile. All those times I wasn’t able to get in touch…oh my God, she’s here because of me. She’s hurt because of me! I have to save her, save us. My eyes focus on Braxton, silently willing him to do something, anything.

“What the fuck is she doing here?”

Gaetano leans against the wall and pulls out another cigarette. With the flick of his Zippo, he lights up, plumes of smoke again clouding the space. “I figured Loren would want her here. It’s why she called her so many times, right?” His gaze fixes on me. “Best friends hate being apart, yeah? And Brax here would never let anything happen to the best friend of the woman he loves.”

“Is this how you think you can test my loyalty, dickhead?”

“Nah. See, Sal didn’t believe that you let Loren go six weeks ago. He didn’t believe you’d interfere with his plans. He didn’t believe you were working with the mother fucking FBI.”

My breath hitches. FBI?