37. The Shed
the shed
. . .
Sadie
Sadie’s Guide to Hostage-Taking Being Taken Hostage Forming a Partnership with Your Hostage Embracing the Hostage Lifestyle Not Freaking Out, Tip #22: When the guy you’re falling for is in the mafia, be prepared to see some scary stuff.
Walking across the sprawling grounds of a mafia compound surrounded by twelve-foot walls was surprisingly introspective.
Tranquil, even.
The lawn was lush and green and smelled freshly mowed. Birds sang from the trees. A light breeze teased my hair, whipping pink strands into my face, which I absently brushed away. I could see myself spending afternoons out here exploring the grounds with Bear.
When I wasn’t on the verge of a mental breakdown, at least.
Instead of looking for Bear, I should be marching up to Davian’s office and demanding answers from the man himself.
But I was afraid.
Afraid of seeing his father again.
Afraid of Davian saying he was engaged. That I was the other woman.
Or maybe I was afraid he wasn’t engaged, because then I’d be forced to face how my feelings for him had grown stronger than I’d thought.
To my mortification, tears welled in my eyes, and I swiped them away. I would not cry.
Not yet.
But what I’d told Davian out by the pool was the truth. I wasn’t just hot for my hostage.
I cared about him.
Stupid, foolish feelings.
Why couldn’t I have fallen for Bruno and spent my days hanging out in his ice cream shop? Or I could’ve asked Mr. Sanders to be my sugar daddy—despite him being woefully sugarless and only attracted to men.
Instead, I had to fall for my hostage and make things a bazillion times more complicated.
“Bear?” I called into the forest when I reached the tree line. The woods stretched further than I could see, seemingly endless from this angle. Just how many acres did Davian live on? “Come here, boy!”
Only a few chirping birds answered, and I glanced over my shoulder at the empty grounds. Despite the warm summer day, it was spooky all alone out here.
I took a deep breath and ventured into the woods.
With a canopy of trees blocking the sun from beating down on me, the temperature cooled quickly as I trekked through the forest. I crossed my arms against the chill and kept calling Bear’s name.
I’d been walking for a few minutes before I heard a response, but it sounded nothing like my furry friend’s bark. I turned in the direction of the noise, listening closely and walking toward it. “Bear?”
Another muffled sound answered, and I rushed forward—forcing my way through the brush and some plant with pointy little thorns before stumbling into a clearing.
In front of me, an old wooden shed sat in a small grove of trees. It was surrounded by overgrown brush and looked too sturdy to be abandoned, but the middle of the woods seemed like an odd place to keep a shed.
“Hello?” I called, slowing as I approached it. “Is anyone here?”
A faint voice came from inside. “Help me, please…”
I sucked in a breath. It was a man’s voice—hoarse and threadbare. He must’ve been yelling for help for a long time.
I ran over to the shed, heart thundering against my rib cage.
“Sir?” I called through the door, grasping the handle. “Are you stuck in there?”
The door didn’t move when I pulled, which made sense when I spotted a large silver padlock keeping it shut. My heart stuttered a few beats. The door getting jammed and trapping him inside would be one thing, but there was no way this man had accidentally locked himself inside with a padlock.
Someone had put him there.
“Yes, please let me out!” he cried, making me flinch. I could feel his desperation through the door. “Or he’ll kill me.”
My jaw dropped. “Someone’s going to kill you?”
Not on my watch. That decided it, and I went into panicked fixing mode.
“Hold on, sir,” I told him, grasping the padlock with both hands and trying to jiggle it free. It didn’t budge. “I’ll get you out!”
A broken sob echoed from inside.
“Thank you, thank you,” he mumbled before more crying took over.
I pulled harder on the lock, but it was too sturdy. I scoured the ground for anything I could bash it open with. A large rock underneath one tree caught my eye, and I ran over.
“This could work,” I whispered, scooping it up with both hands and running back to the shed.
“Are you still there?” the man called, before breaking into a coughing fit. “Please, please help?—”
“I’m here,” I assured him as I lifted the rock high over my head, then hesitated. “There’s a lock, and I’m going to force it open. You should stand back, just in case I knock the door in.”
Turned out, I was woefully overestimating my strength.
I brought the rock down with all my might, and it harmlessly glanced off the lock—but not before pinching my finger between them. “ Ow! ”
My finger throbbed in agony, and I bit my lip to hold back a string of completely inappropriate curses. I cradled the rock in one arm so I could shake my finger out. When the shaking didn’t help, I popped it into my mouth to ease the pain.
It tasted horrible—like dirt and a bitter metallic tang that made my face scrunch up. “ Blech! ”
I was so focused on the pain that I didn’t realize someone had snuck up behind me until they spoke.
“Sadie?” Vince asked, startling me into dropping the rock and spinning to face him. His gaze dropped to the fallen rock, then up to the shed, before narrowing. “What are you doing out here?”
I drew my pulsing finger out of my mouth and picked the rock back up. “Vince, there’s a man locked in this shed! Help me get him out.”
Instead of rushing to the rescue and breaking down the door like he’d done at my apartment, Vince glanced at the shed with cold indifference.
“Sadie,” he repeated slowly, making no move to help me. “Put the rock down.”
“Don’t listen to him!” the man yelled. “You need to help me. I can’t breathe in here.”
“But—” My eyes darted between the shed and Vince’s stoic face, and a sinking feeling filled my stomach. I wet my lips and lowered my voice. “Did you know he was here?”
One of Vince’s thick brows arched. “Who do you think put him there?”
Shock stole the air from my lungs, leaving me breathless as my mind played catch-up.
“You’re keeping this man locked in there on purpose ?” I gaped at him. “Why would you do that? It sounds like he’s injured.”
The man in the shed whimpered pitifully in agreement.
“Please,” he begged. “Reed won’t let me live after this. I’m a dead man.”
Davian wouldn’t let him live ? My eyes widened in horror, but Vince’s stony expression didn’t even flicker.
This was the stuff of nightmares.
“You shouldn’t be out here,” he said to me, ignoring the man. “Come back to the house with me.”
He stepped closer and went to grab my arm, but I dodged out of his reach.
“No.” I turned from Vince and refocused on the shed. “This is wrong. I’m getting this man out.”
I bashed my rock against the lock.
Nothing.
Vince snorted behind me. “You don’t even know what he did.”
“It doesn’t matter.” I hit the lock again. “If he did something wrong, then we can report him to the police.”
“You mean the same police who helped you get your dog back from the Skulls?” Vince shot back. “Oh, wait. Or did they ignore you and you had to come to us for help?”
I paused, snapping my mouth shut. It was true—Officer Murdock hadn’t been much help when Bear was taken. Even before that, he’d dismissed all our concerns about the teenage thugs.
“The police don’t do shit in this town,” Vince continued. “That’s why families like Davian’s exist.”
I focused on hitting the lock again. “It’s still not up to you to decide whether a man lives or dies.”
He chuckled like I’d said something cute. “No one’s going to kill him.”
“Liar!” the man wailed, before a fresh round of sobs took over.
I brought the rock down on the padlock again. And again.
…It didn’t even scuff the metal.
After a dozen more futile tries that left me panting and growing more desperate, Vince heaved a sigh. “It won’t work. That lock is top of the line. Only a key can open it. You’re just wearing yourself out.”
But I didn’t give up. This man was counting on me. If anything, I swung the rock harder, and it…didn’t even make a dent.
Sheesh.
“That’s enough,” Vince said gruffly. He plucked the rock out of my hands and tossed it aside before I could stop him, then wrapped his giant mitt around my arm.
“What the?—?”
He dragged me toward the edge of the clearing, and I fought with everything I had against his hold. He didn’t budge.
“Stop! We can’t just leave him?—”
Vince yanked me forward, making me stumble. “Either start walking, or I’ll carry you over my shoulder all the way back to the house.”
His glower showed he meant it, and I had a sudden vision of him carrying me kicking and screaming all the way back to the house like a misbehaving toddler.
So, I started walking.
But I made sure to give him the deadliest glare I could muster while cradling my bruised finger.
It hurt .
“Wait!” the man in the shed yelled after us. “Don’t leave me?—”
“ Shut up, Lorenzo ,” Vince snapped back at him. “We’ll talk later.”
The shed went silent, and I stared over my shoulder at it as Vince pulled me through the trees.
“What will happen to him? To Lorenzo?” I whispered as the shed fell out of sight.
“That’s for Davian to decide,” he answered shortly.
That sounded ominous, and unease swelled in my gut, but my curiosity got the better of me. “Why is he even in there?”
Once I’d stopped fighting him, Vince dropped my arm and grunted. “You didn’t think the rat problem was actual rodents, did you?”
Surprise made me trip over my own feet, and Vince grabbed my arm again—this time to keep me upright. “I— What ?”
“Don’t look so shocked,” he said dryly before dropping my arm and looking forward again. “You know who Davian is.”
“Do I?” A shrill laugh escaped me, but he made a good point. Gladys and Ryan had warned me all about the Reed family. The whole reason I’d taken Davian hostage was because people were afraid of him. He was the only one those teenage thugs would listen to.
I just hadn’t known why until he shot Fessy. And now there was a man in a shed.
The need to sit down overwhelmed me, and only the fact I wasn’t wearing any underwear stopped me from plopping on the dirty forest floor right here.
“There’s a big difference between knowing and seeing ,” I muttered. “And I only just learned I’m apparently a mistress, so that’s doing great things for my sanity.”
Vince didn’t say anything at first, and when I worked up the nerve to look at him, he was frowning. “What do you mean you’re a mistress?”
The whole Davian-getting-married thing felt almost laughable now compared to locking men in sheds, but it still hurt.
…And now I had a chance to get answers from Davian’s right-hand man. Vince could tell me what was going on.
“Davian’s father told me he’s engaged,” I said stiffly, watching Vince closely for a reaction.
He only stared at me like I’d grown a second head, which was oddly comforting. If Davian was getting married, surely Vince would know.
“You spoke to Old Seb?” he asked slowly, narrowing his eyes. “Ignore him. Davian doesn’t see Daniella like that?—”
“Daniella?” I stopped dead in my tracks and clutched Vince’s arm. She had a name? Of course she did. Bitterness filled my mouth. “Who the heck is Daniella?”
Vince’s face twisted in a grimace—he definitely regretted letting that one slip—but it was too late to take the name back.
I wanted to laugh, but I was afraid it would come out as a sob instead.
This just kept getting better and better.