23. Lainey
TWENTY-THREE
LAINEY
My head feels like it’s been split open with an ax, and my vision swims when I try to open my eyes.
Everything’s a blur—shapes and shadows that don’t make sense.
I blink hard, trying to clear the fog, but the pounding in my skull only gets worse. The air smells stale, like damp wood and something metallic.
Where the hell am I?
I shift, or try to, but my wrists are pinned behind me, bound so tightly the rope bites into my skin. Panic surges, raw and immediate, as I yank against the restraints.
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath, my voice hoarse. My heart’s racing, thumping so loud it drowns out everything else.
The memories come in brutal flashes. Smoke filling the diner kitchen. Strong hands grabbing me from behind. Derrick’s voice saying “I’m sorry” before something pressed against my mouth, sharp and chemical. Then darkness.
They drugged me. The realization makes my stomach heave. Whatever they gave me still pulses through my system, making my thoughts scatter like leaves in the wind. My tongue feels thick. Words tangle before they form.
Focus. I need to focus.
I force my eyes open wider, willing the room to stop spinning. Wooden walls rise around me, the panels weathered with age. Faded curtains hang limp against grimy windows. Beyond them, water stretches blue and endless.
Something about this place tugs at my memory, but the drugs twist everything into nightmare shapes.
The rope burns with each small movement. My shoulders scream from being wrenched backward. Sweat trickles down my spine.
“Hello?” The word scrapes past my dry throat. Silence answers.
A muffled thud echoes through the wall. Then, a grunt of pain. I know that voice.
“Derrick?” I try to turn my head toward the sound. The movement sends the room spinning.
Another thud. Another pained sound. They have Derrick, too.
The chair beneath me is solid oak. Heavy. Professional knots hold me in place, precise and unforgiving. These people know exactly what they’re doing.
I think of Marcus. Does he know I’m missing? Just this morning he kissed me goodbye at the cabin, told me to drive safe down the mountain. Said he’d see me for dinner.
Tears burn, but I blink them back. I can’t break. Not now. Marcus will come. He has to come.
The view through the window slowly sharpens into familiar shapes. Pine trees frame a wooden dock stretching into calm water. Recognition slams through me with stunning force.
The lake house. My parents’ lake house. This room was my childhood bedroom during summer vacations. The same walls where I hung posters of boy bands. The same window where I watched storms roll across the water.
The door creaks open, and a figure steps inside. Through the haze of drugs, I squint to make out his features.
Enzo Castellano. He's carrying a gun, the metal glinting in the dim light.
He looks different than he did at his daughter's wedding—his suit replaced by dark jeans and a black shirt, his eyes hard and calculating.
"Lainey," he says, his voice smooth as silk. "I trust you're finding everything satisfactory?"
I stare at him, my tongue thick in my mouth. "What did you give me?"
A smile curves his lips, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Just something to ease the journey. No need to worry."
He steps closer, his expensive cologne filling my nostrils. I try to shrink back, but the ropes hold me in place.
"Derrick," I manage to say. "Where's Derrick?"
Enzo's expression darkens. "Ah, yes. Derrick. It seems he thought he could double-cross me after all the generosity I've shown him over the years."
Fear claws up my throat. "What are you talking about?"
He leans in, his breath hot against my cheek. "I can't have people thinking they can betray me and get away with it, Lainey. Surely you understand that."
My heart pounds so hard I feel it in my temples. Enzo straightens, running a hand along the gun barrel.
"You see, I had such high hopes for Derrick. Thought he could be an asset to my business. But it appears his loyalty was...misplaced."
He moves to the window, looking out at the tranquil lake. The same view I once found so peaceful now fills me with dread.
"I brought you here because I know how much this place means to you. I wanted you to be comfortable while we sort out this unpleasantness with Derrick."
My mouth goes dry. "Please, Enzo. Don't hurt him."
He turns back to me, his eyes glittering in the shadows. "You always were a clever girl, Lainey. So quick to put others before yourself."
The gun swings lazily from his hand as he approaches me again. I can't tear my gaze away from the barrel. From the way his finger rests on the trigger.
"Unfortunately, it's not that simple. Derrick made his choice. Now he has to face the consequences."
Desperation claws through me. "Enzo, please?—"
"Shhh." He presses a finger to my lips, silencing me. "Don't waste your breath begging. It won't change anything."
Tears sting my eyes, but I blink them back. I won't let him see me break.
“What do you want?” I ask him. Each syllable feels like molasses.
Enzo's lips curve into a cold smile. "Lainey, Lainey, Lainey. You already know what I want."
He circles behind me. My pulse thrums in my ears as I strain against the ropes, desperate for any give.
"I want the diner," he says. "That little piece of prime real estate you've been clinging to like a life raft."
Anger surges past the drugs, hot and bright.
"You can't have it," I spit out. "I won't let you take it from me."
“Everything has a price.” His smile never reaches his eyes. “Everyone has a breaking point.”
Enzo rises with predatory grace. Each movement calculated for maximum effect. He adjusts his cuffs with surgical precision.
“I had hoped to be civil about this.” False regret colors his tone. “You leave me no choice.”
The gun appears in his hand. My heart stutters as he places it on the table beside me.
“The papers are simple.” A folder joins the gun. “One signature ends this. You walk away wealthy. Free to build any legacy you choose.”
“And if I refuse?”
“Then we explore less pleasant alternatives.” His voice stays conversational. “Your brother’s fingers are quite valuable to him.” A crash from the next room. “And after him, we’ll discuss your kneecaps. Nothing fatal. But you won’t serve coffee again.”
The drugs blur his face but the gun stays crystal clear. “You’re insane.”
“I’m a businessman.” He studies his watch. “You have one hour to decide. Use it wisely.”
“They’ll come looking for me.” The words ring hollow even as I speak them. The diner is closed. No one expects me until dinner.
“Who?” Cruel amusement twists his smile. “Your brother gave us this location before he had his change of heart. Foolish boy thought he could double-cross me. Now he pays the price.” Another pained sound filters through the wall. “And that mountain man you’re seeing? He doesn’t even know you’re gone.”
The door closes with quiet menace. I stare at the folder holding my father’s legacy. Everything I’ve fought to preserve. The gun glints beside it, patient and waiting.
Tears burn but I refuse to let them fall. The drugs make everything feel distant, unreal. But fear cuts through the haze with crystal clarity.
Marcus will come. I cling to that certainty. I just need to survive until he finds me. But my thoughts keep fracturing, scattering like broken glass.
The rope slices deeper as I work the knots. One hour. Sixty minutes to find escape or lose everything.
The lake sparkles beyond dirty windows. The same view from countless childhood mornings now feels like a farewell. My stomach heaves. The drugs pull me under, make planning impossible. But one thought burns through the fog.
Will he reach me in time?
Time stretches endlessly in the heavy silence. Blood slicks my wrists where the rope has rubbed them raw. Each pull against my restraints sends fresh pain through my shoulders, but the sharp sting helps cut through the drug-induced haze.
From the next room, Derrick has gone quiet. The silence terrifies me more than his earlier sounds of pain.
My arms ache from being wrenched backward and my muscles protest each small movement as exhaustion pulls at me like a weight.
What if Marcus doesn’t find me? The thought opens a pit in my stomach. What if he comes too late, after Enzo has already broken me? Marcus always calls me his brave girl when things get hard. His faith in me never wavers.
But I don’t feel brave now.
Another wave of dizziness hits. The room tilts and spins as tears finally spill down my cheeks.
Marcus would hate seeing me like this. Reduced to someone small and scared and helpless. He believes in me so completely. Sees something in me I can’t always see in myself. But I’m not strong now. Not with whatever drugs they gave me still pulsing through my system. Not with my brother’s silence screaming through the wall.
My chest tightens until breathing becomes difficult. The ropes aren’t just holding my body captive. They’re crushing everything inside me. Every hope. Every dream. Every bit of courage I thought I possessed.
The folder on the table holds my father’s legacy. Everything he worked for. One signature would end this nightmare. Would keep Derrick’s fingers intact. Would let me walk away with enough money to start fresh.
The thought makes bile rise in my throat.
A soft whimper escapes before I can stop it. The sound is foreign and broken in the heavy air. I barely recognize it as my own voice.
Is this what breaking feels like? This slow crumbling from the inside out?
Another sound filters through the wall. A grunt. A thud. The sharp crack of something breaking. They’re hurting Derrick again. Each pained noise cuts through me. We used to protect each other when we were young. Now we’re both trapped in this nightmare of his making, and I can’t save either of us.
The despair rises higher.
I’m not brave enough for this. Not strong enough to hold onto my father’s dreams while my brother screams in the next room. Not capable of being the person Marcus believes me to be.
The truth settles over me with crushing weight. I might die in this room. In this house that once held such happy memories. The last thing I’ll see will be this view of the lake that holds the ghosts of a thousand summer days.
Maybe that’s what breaking really means. Not the moment when pain becomes too much, but the instant you realize no one is coming to save you. That all your strength means nothing in the face of reality.