Chapter 28
CLAIRE
The men tossed me into the back of the van without any care whether I’d get bruised. Slamming down onto the floor of the cargo van, I rolled face-up and screamed as loudly as I could. The sound wouldn’t carry. The thick gag around my mouth ensured that I was silenced.
Another door opened to the car and I breathed harshly through my nose, willing myself not to pass out from the fear.
It had happened so suddenly, too quickly for me to keep up with the fact that I’d been captured.
Those men surrounded me, but it was Jack who’d been closest to me when I stepped out into the traffic to get away.
His fingers latched on to my sleeve and yanked me back to the sidewalk before I could’ve been hit by a biker or car rushing by.
“What’s the matter with you?” he demanded, breathing hard from chasing me and catching me just in time. Gripped in his hands as he shook me, I watched him snarl. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
I wished I could’ve shouted the same at him.
But I hadn’t. I couldn’t have said a single word or asked any question about why he was friends with criminals.
The Italian mobsters caught up to us, and he handed me over.
With a shove, he pushed me into the arms of one of the beefy men, a street thug just like the one who’d almost kicked me in the hospital a few weeks ago.
And that was it. I was turned away from the pedestrians and street. I was tied up, my hands smashed together behind my back. The telltale pressure of the end of a gun rammed at my back, and the smelly man ordered me to move it.
“Scream, and you’re dead, Doctor.” He prodded me with the gun once more, and I obeyed.
It was surreal that only ten minutes ago, I had been on my feet, free, and running to a safer location back home. Now, I was dropped into this dirty van.
It rocked as another door was opened and closed. Jerking and rocking with the weight of someone else in here, I craned my neck to see who was here now.
“I told you not to get involved,” Jack whispered, turning from the passenger seat to sneer at me.
You are too! You’re involved in this bloody mess!
It was the worst form of irony to be tied up and bound like this, helpless and about to be transported like a delivery while he got in the front seat.
He was in on this, not only friendly with the Giovannis but assisting them.
He wasn’t only familiar with them, he was an active participant to sit up there and not try to help me get free.
The realization that he had such a hidden and ulterior motive stunned me, but I didn’t let the shock paralyze me. Clinging to the anger and letting that hot emotion fuel me to stay sharp, I narrowed my eyes and watched as the tall Giovanni who’d pushed me with the gun got in the driver’s seat.
He tossed me one cruel glance via the reflection in the mirror. Then he grunted a laugh and started the engine.
“Let’s go, Doc,” he joked.
Jack had the gall to laugh along with him, like this was a prime comedy skit they found absolutely hilarious.
I rolled over the floor as the driver turned and sped up, but I tried my best to duck my head in and hunch my shoulders so I didn’t get a concussion. Sparing myself injuries was a critical goal in all this, and I feared that would be much more difficult to do once they stopped and let me out.
This wasn’t a joy ride. They hadn’t captured me in broad daylight for the hell of it like a prank. If I had the foresight to reflect on it, I would’ve been stumped to admit the concept of being safe in a crowd was a lie.
All those people, walking, jogging, leaving work and minding their own business. And not one of them could’ve noticed how I was forced away?
What else could I have done?
What other options were there?
He would’ve shot me—or someone else—if I screamed. I couldn’t have run and fought his steely grip on my arm.
Nowhere was safe. I’d gone to the hospital only to turn in my resignation and I had been taken right outside its doors.
I had rushed to the cops before, and that had backfired when they proved they were corrupt and paid for by the Popovs.
Nothing was as it seemed anymore. As I stayed alert and listened to the sounds of the van going over the streets, I shook off this stupid musing that coming here and landing in New York had set me up to live in a surreal dream world where criminals ruled and laws didn’t matter.
When the van stopped, I tensed up and awaited whatever would come next. The Giovanni driver exited, and through the walls of the cargo space, I caught the indistinct and muffled sounds of him talking and laughing with others.
Jack remained, glaring at me like he was disappointed in me. “I told you not to get involved!”
I furrowed my brow, breathing hard with the gag in my mouth as I stared him down. That was twice that he’d emphasized how he’d warned me. Two times, he wanted credit for telling me to not meddle in Mafia business. I struggled to understand why, of all things, he wanted to stress that fact.
Was this a form of his telling me I told you so?
Did he want a pat on the back and get my recognition of his looking out for me?
With him so familiar with the Giovannis, I doubted he had ever been looking out for me.
Just like when he coldly glared at Mikhail that night I cared for him in the ER, Jack’s true colors showed clearly.
He hadn’t been looking out for me when he told me to avoid getting involved with the Mafia.
Fatima had meant it when she suggested I do my job and mind my own business.
But Jack? I wasn’t buying it. I wasn’t convinced he gave a damn about what happened to me.
Unless he’s here to try to save me yet?
What if he can be my hero? What if he’s playing along to stick with me and save me in the end?
That didn’t seem likely, and I soon had my answer anyway.
The doors were yanked open from the rear. Loud, grinding creaks of the ungreased hinges whined, but no light shone inward.
They’d parked inside a long, dark garage of some sort. Narrow walls threatened claustrophobia. The lack of lights made every shadow more sinister. But it was the approach of the beefy Giovanni men that scared me the most.
Two men grabbed me out of the van and dropped me to the rough floor.
Cracked pavement didn’t give me any cushioning to rely on.
I was further wincing and hissing through pain when they grabbed my ankles and dragged me.
Like I was an animal, a sack of inanimate junk, they dragged me over the floor through this tunnel-like space.
Once they reached a big room with only one light in it, they released my ankles. Unprepared for the abrupt stop, I couldn’t brace for the impact. My legs dropped down, and I tensed at the hit of my heels on the concrete floor.
They spoke behind me, resorting to Italian and only a few words of English. All I could understand was the profanity when they slowed down in their conversations at all.
Lying here and breathing hard through the terror, I waited for what would come next.
I suffered through a similar horror when I was in that cell at the police station, worried what would happen to me if I didn’t treat those Popov men and stitch them up from their injuries.
Now, this time, I shook with the looming unknowns ahead of me.
Were they going to beat me and demand I tell them about the Orlovs?
I didn’t know anything. I had been careful not to snoop at Mikhail’s building, and no one had shared anything incriminating with me, anyway.
Were they going to take turns and violate me, raping me one by one?
I didn’t want to go there and even let that idea into my mind. It was too terrible to imagine, and I wished I could close my eyes and wake up from this nightmare altogether.
How can this be happening to me? To me?
I never sought trouble. I walked on the right side of the law. I always had. But now, I was subjected to captivity and this dreadful anxiety of the unknown.
What will they do to me?
Is this it?
Is this the end?
I wouldn’t cry. I couldn’t let them see me break down.
But when Jack strolled into view, a Giovanni next to him, I was chilled by the lack of compassion. All that I could see in their eyes and on their mocking faces was malice.
“I think the doctor won’t be going anywhere for a while,” Jack guessed.
The other man nodded, smiling wickedly as he slapped a whip in his hands. “No, she sure ain’t.”
Trembling and praying the pain would be over as quickly as possible, I blinked away the grime in my eyes.
“She’ll be right here with us until we can figure out all she can do for us.” The brute grinned, showing off white teeth that seemed unnatural on such an ugly, evil soul.
What I can do for you?
I didn’t want to know what that meant.
I was a woman. They could rape me.
I was a doctor. They could recruit me as a slave to help their wounded.
I had been under the watch and custody of their enemy. They could exploit me and use me as leverage with Mikhail or kill me to use me as bait for him.
What have I done?
Agony and regret coalesced in my heart as I lay there and dreaded the abuse and torture—or death—that seemed inevitable now.
I wished I could do what Mikhail had mockingly joked once.
To find a rewind button and dial back time.
Because I prayed and wished with all my heart that I could change my fate.
I shouldn’t have run from him. I was only a fool to be proud and self-righteous, deluded that I could be in charge of my life and safety.
Mikhail was the only one who could keep me alive and protected, the only one who seemed to care whether I lived and prospered at all.
And now, I doubted I’d ever see him again.
Not in this lifetime.
I sniffled hard and tried not to cry.
I never had a chance to tell him I loved him.