Chapter 1
Chapter One
Everleigh
Swirling my hand, the red wine kisses the rim of the glass, almost sloshing over the edge. The television above the bar drones on about sports until a black-and-white photo filled the corner of the screen. A thick headline reading Politician’s Missing Daughter suddenly materializes underneath.
The reporter rattles off details: hair color, eye color, height, weight and what she was last seen wearing. The last thing was a number to call if you had any information.
New York was never safe. Never had been. But lately, it felt like the city had started feeding on itself. Too many people vanishing, too many stories ending with silence instead of closure.
The bartender changes the channel to another sports related report.
The sound of laughter and clinking glasses fill the room again.
In a quick toss back, I gulp down the rest of the alcohol and stand to leave.
There was no need to pay since the owner was a friend to my father. Well, more so a business partner.
Outside, the air is colder than I expect. The streets glisten with recent rain, neon reflections bleeding into the puddles at my feet. I forgot my coat at home, so here I was in just a white dress and my heels clicking against the concrete.
It is too late to still be out. But I needed the noise, the distraction. Anything to drown out the static of my own thoughts.
As I walk to my car, my thoughts randomly drift back to the missing girl. The idea puts me on edge, feeling as if any and all eyes are watching me. Not that they are of course, but it doesn’t change the fact that I still feel this way.
Finally, I reach my vehicle and quickly unlock the doors, scurrying into the drivers seat. The only thing I can think of to settle my nerves about possibly being followed is to dial my brother’s number.
Once my seatbelt is firmly strapped across my chest, I turn over the engine and drive away from the parking spot, listening as the phone rings on.
“Pick up, Viktor. Pick up.”
My voice trembles with panic, but I force it down the best I can. The line rings until his familiar, soulless voice begins his message. Once the beep sounds, I speak.
“I’m about to lose my shit, just call me back.”
I kill the call and continue to drive. Traffic burns at my nerves like acid. I want to scream, to slam the steering wheel until my hands bleed. But I swallow it, controlling the emotion, just as he taught me.
I glance in the rearview.
Bright headlights shine into my car. It was the same truck that followed me all the way to the bar earlier this evening.
Professor Google said to take three lefts, and if they followed, it wasn’t a coincidence.
Of course, with my luck, they followed at every left. Fuck.
I could’ve gone to a police station and found help. But that’s not how he wired me.
With that, I slam on the brakes as hard as I can.
With the seatbelt holding me to my seat, my body whips forward in place. My breath leaves my lungs and everything seems to go quiet for a moment as I wait for the crash from behind me.
But it didn’t come.
How in the hell did they manage that shit?
I blink, feeling dazed and dizzy. The burn from the belt travels up my chest toward my neck.
I begin to look around to take in my surroundings. The neighborhood looks dead. Boarded-up windows and the stench of hopelessness lurked. Shadows linger, watching from doorways. I was sure no one would help here, they had their own depressing shit to deal with.
I gaze upward into the rearview to check to see if the stalkers had moved from behind me. No driver and absolutely zero movement.
My fingers tighten on the wheel as realization hits me in the face.
I then hear a scuffing noise to my left. My breath hitches as I turn to face the direction the sound came from.
Two men stand inches from the window. I don’t even have time to scream before the glass explodes, shards being thrown in every direction. The door flies open and a rough hand plunges into my hair, yanking me out like I weigh nothing.
I scream toward the lingering shadows. “Fucking help me, you cowards!”
No one moves, just as predicted. I was officially on my own, but I guess I always was.
Tape then smothers my mouth. My yelling now cut to nothing. The second man seizes my wrists, cinching zip ties so tight I can feel my pulse beating against the plastic.
I thrash around desperately hoping to get away.
Thankfully, one lucky wild swing catches someone in the face.
“Fucking bitch,” he spits, reeling from just being caught with both of my fists.
I take my chance and run as fast as I can away from both of them.
The street feels endless ahead of me. The dark path seems to push on as I struggle to get my legs to fight harder. I wasn’t dumb enough to think I’d actually be able to get away. But I knew I had to try.
Rough footsteps trail behind, and it scares the living shit out of me. The adrenaline had me trying to peddle my feet like the Flintstones.
They are hunting me, and no one was going to stop them.
A force hits me from behind, launching my body into the pavement. I gasp for air as my knees connect with the ground. My knees throb heavily with heat. I feel the blood dripping down the sides of my knees, mixing with the filth of the street.
Pain blurs my surroundings, but not their eyes.
My father always said to absorb as much of your surroundings as you could if put in a bad situation. Like this one.
One man has dark blue eyes and is slightly taller than the other. The other man has brown, almost pitch-black colored eyes and is a bit broader at the shoulders than the first.
Both men tower over me now, masked.
The taller one crouches beside me, watching me tremble. I was about to be claimed whether I liked it or not.
My thoughts seem to fade away quickly as a a piece of cloth smothers my nose and mouth. With the tape over my lips, I can’t breathe through my mouth, so I have no choice but to inhale whatever they are trying to drug me with.
Darkness captures me in its shadow.
Consciousness comes back in pieces. First, a dull throbbing in my skull, like someone had split it open with a hammer. Then I feel an intense cold on the bare skin of my back which makes my eyes burst open.
It’s dark in whatever room they have me in, but not completely.
Small lines of light shine through a shattered window above me.
But I can’t tell if it’s because of a street light or the sun.
When I try to sit up, my arms give out for a moment.
I try again and again until I finally manage to push up slightly.
The zip ties that are laced around my wrists are tight, and rope was tied securely around my ankles at some point.
My mouth was free now, so there was that at least.
I shift slightly, taking in the room. From the minor details I can make out, it looks like an abandoned warehouse. Or what is left of it. The walls are cracked, and bad graffiti art bleeds down the bricks.
It seems I’m alone, for now. But I can feel it, someone or multiple someones is watching me.
With how bare the room is, I know there is no one else in here currently, but I can only assume a camera was propped up somewhere hidden and out of sight.
I have no choice but to let these two strangers watch me.
After a moment, I breathe out. I could fake fear if I had to, I could scream or cry and beg. But I am sure they wouldn’t believe a single thing I said.
Footsteps then echo from somewhere nearby.
The broader man from before emerges with heavy steps through the door that was closed shut moments ago.
His shoulders fit snuggly beneath a fitted black hoodie with his mask still in place.
He stops a few feet away from me and tilts his head, studying me like I am some pretty thing in a display case.
“There she is,” he says sonorously.
I didn’t say a word. I won’t give him the satisfaction.
“Your knees are still bleeding,” he adds. “You might’ve broken something when you fell.”
He then chuckles. “Should’ve worn better shoes.”
What a jackass.
He continues, “I was starting to think you wouldn’t wake up tonight, but you’re strong just like your father,” he murmurs, kneeling down beside me. His gloved hand reaches out, gently tracing the edge of the zip tie around my wrist.
I stare up at him through my lashes, a smirk pulling at my lips. I decide to finally speak, biting out the next sentence through the pain I feel in my bruised knees. “So you do know who I am, which means you know what happens to you next when people find out I’m here.”
“Hoping you’ll be saved like some damsel in one of those movies?” He leans in close, his breath brushing against the skin on my cheek.
Something shifts behind him, and then the second broader man walks in.
The tall kidnapper also still has his mask in place. Smart.
Judging by the way Blue Eyes’ fists clench when he sees me on the floor, he seems like he’s starting to wonder what the hell he’s gotten himself into. But it was okay, because soon he’ll know exactly who he was messing with.
The other man leans close once again. I don’t move. Though, I don’t have much choice given how tight the restraints are. My wrists are raw, my ankles tied together tightly, and my head is still spinning from whatever they’d drugged me with.
This time he just stands there, staring down at me like I’m an inconvenience. As if he didn’t know what to do with me now that I wasn’t screaming.
“You’re too quiet now,” He mutters finally.
Blue-Eyes leans against the wall near the door, the shadows clinging to him like a second skin. “She won’t be later on,” he says with a shrug. “Not with what we’ll do to her.”
I guess his anxiety from seconds before had now faded.
His tough guy act is back on.
I stare at the broader whose eyes look black from here. I’m basically out of breath, still trying my hardest to hold myself up with the little strength I have left. “Please,” I whisper. “I can.. My father can give you money, whatever you want, if you’ll just let me go.”
The man in front of me doesn’t budge, but the other that is still leaning against the wall does. He lets out a breath and crosses his arms in front of his chest. His tough guy demeanor switches quickly into an uncomfortable one.
“You don’t have to do this,” I try again.
Blue Eyes’ posture shifts once more, it’s the smallest thing, but I see it. He looks toward the crumbling wall for a second, and just with that small movement, I can tell he isn’t as sure about this as he pretends to be.
The Onyx-Eyed man laughs softly, seemingly entertained by all of this.
“She’s good,” he murmurs as he stands up and walks away, back toward the doorway and out the door itself. I don’t know what he meant and I don’t want to.
The silence presses in again, the warehouse groaning around us after a few seconds.
And then Blue-Eyes walks away from the wall and goes to stand directly above me. After letting out a breath, he kneels down, his face inches from mine. His eyes and mouth are the only thing I could still see of his features. Those clouded blues watch me cautiously.
“Don’t fight it.” He utters quietly.
I swallow hard as he stands back up, his gaze lingering on me for just a moment longer.
But that moment doesn’t last long and he is out of the room within seconds.
I am now alone in the dark, sitting in unbearable silence.