35. Chapter Thirty-Five
ANNA
Anna’s captor had an anger management problem.
She hadn’t even had a chance to scream before his hand was over her mouth and his arm was around her waist and he was dragging her back into his apartment. After a moment of panic, she realized she was in roughly the same position she’d been in when Matt grabbed her.
What had he commanded her to do?
Anna cocked her elbow and thrust it back as hard as she could, but instead of making contact with Matt’s rock-hard abs, her elbow sank into softer flesh. The guy grunted but didn’t release his hold.
She lifted her foot to stomp on him, but that didn’t work either, as she was being manhandled and off-balance.
Why hadn’t she taken Matt up on his offer to teach her self-defense?
She did manage to get in a few good kicks against the doorframe though. Go her.
No soft couch for a landing pad this time. Bright white lights burst through her vision as he flung her onto the floor face-first. Her right cheekbone and supraorbital ridge—the bone above her eye socket—took the brunt of the impact. Then, his knee was on her back, one hand around the back of her neck, pressing her into the floor with so much weight and force that she couldn’t breathe.
“You don’t think this is one of the first things they teach us at the police academy?” he growled.
Right. He was a cop.
A swift, sharp vibration came from beneath her, like the hard end of a broomstick meeting the ceiling below.
“Manny! Manny Falco! What are you doing up there? It’s the middle of the night!”
Manny leaned down so his mouth was at Anna’s ear. “Don’t fucking make one sound, or I’ll drag her up here and kill her right in front of you. Understand?”
Part of her said she should scream for help anyway. The woman below obviously had a keen sense of hearing. Maybe she’d make good on that 911 call threat. But who would she call? Manny was the police.
Anna tried to nod and couldn’t, but he didn’t seem to care about her answer anyway. His heavy weight lifted enough to grab both arms and yank them behind her hard enough that she felt a tear in her shoulder. After securing her wrists with zip ties, he rolled her over and slapped a piece of duct tape over her mouth, then went to work on her ankles. She tried kicking at him again—without success.
“You are a feisty little thing—I’ll give you that,” he muttered. “You know, maybe I’ll keep you for myself. I’ll send pictures to DiGiorgio though. Maybe we can set up a payment program until I get tired of you, and then I’ll go back to my original plan—kill you or leave you somewhere and let him take care of you as he sees fit.”
Anna couldn’t let that happen. If DiGiorgio found out she was alive, then he’d figure out Luca was alive too. She hadn’t stayed away from her brother for ten years to be the cause of his demise now.
She just didn’t know how she was going to stop it. Especially when she was trussed up like a pig with her face on fire and her vision fading in and out.
She was vaguely aware of Manny moving around in the apartment. In his bedroom. In his bathroom. It sounded like he was gathering things. Her theory was confirmed when he returned to her field of vision and leaned a duffel against the door.
“Guess what, princess? You and I are going to take a little trip,” he said.