Chapter 16
Chapter sixteen
Head down, lost in her tumultuous thoughts, Sabrina trudged through the airport, dragging her carryon suitcase behind her. Her heart hurt like it had never hurt before, a physical ache that nearly took her breath away. Pressing a fist to her chest, she sucked in a steadying inhale.
Nothing felt right about boarding this plane and leaving Jayson. In fact, everything in her rebelled at the idea of flying away from Montana. From him.
She knew saying goodbye would hurt, but she hadn’t been fully prepared for the absolute crushing pain. Like her heart was caught in an ever-tightening vise. When her relationship with Ian ended, it had hurt. But nothing like this.
“Shit.” Sabrina abruptly halted in the middle of the busy pedestrian walkway. Passengers split, going around her and continued heading for their gates. For places they wanted to be. And hopefully people they wanted to be with. Could she say the same?
Turmoil roiled through her. Frozen in place, she stared straight ahead. If she left, she’d regret it for the rest of her life. She knew it without a doubt.
Returning to D.C. wouldn’t make her happy.
Maybe it’s time to be brave and take a chance. To put her happiness above all else and take a leap of faith.
She wanted to see where things might go with Jayson.
And if she found out he wasn’t on the same page, at least she’d know she tried.
Then she could leave with her head held high, albeit her heart in pieces.
Once she had a definitive answer, she could fly back to D.C.
, explain things to her father and quit the Bureau.
Sure, he’d be disappointed at first, but he wanted his only daughter to be happy.
Although she had no idea what she would do or where she would go if things with Jayson didn’t work out, she needed a change. Desperately. She needed to find her happiness again. And no one else could do that for her.
Oh, God. Am I having a midlife crisis?
Too late. She’d made up her mind. Turning around, she started heading back through the airport.
She’d catch a taxi and return to Jayson’s house.
Lay her cards out on the table and tell him she wanted to see him.
Date him. Start a relationship. She wanted it all, but she didn’t want to scare him.
Easy, Sabrina. Don’t send the silver fox scurrying deep into his den.
A part of her believed he wanted those same things, too. At least, she hoped he did.
Stepping outside, she breathed in the cold air, and it felt like a weight lifted off her chest. Right on cue, a taxi pulled up to the curb, and she got inside, dragging her small suitcase in beside her.
As the driver pulled away, she told him Jayson’s address.
Worst case scenario, she could always go back and stay at the house next door.
At least until she figured out her next step.
Big changes were on the horizon, and for the first time in so very long, she was back on the road to finding herself.
To finding her happiness. And it felt damn good.
It didn’t take long to reach the airport exit, and Sabrina was mentally rehearsing all the things she wanted to say to Jayson when the driver turned right instead of left. Sitting up straighter, she frowned. Was he trying to take her some long, roundabout way?
“Excuse me. You’re going in the wrong direction. Cielo Springs is—”
The driver slammed on the brakes, pointing a gun through the open window dividing the front and back. “Shut up and sit back,” he ordered. “You’re not going to Cielo Springs.”
Shock poured through her. What the hell was going on?
Be brave. Get answers. Make a plan to escape.
Refusing to appear intimidated, she straightened her back and pressed her shaky hands flat against her thighs.
Her focus locked on the gun then zeroed in on the tattoos along the back of his hand, inked along his bruised knuckles.
Shit. She’d recognize those tats anywhere.
They proclaimed loyalty to the Ferrante mob.
“Then where are we going?” she demanded.
“Back to Vegas, bitch. Mr. Ferrante has business with you.” He shifted in the seat, then barked, “Gimme your phone.”
Okay, don’t panic. If she could reach her gun…
Dammit. It was in the lock box in her suitcase. She needed the key in her purse. Don’t panic. Think it through. She could grab it when she got her cell phone out to give to her kidnapper.
Opening her handbag, she palmed the small key and scooped out her phone.
“Give it to me,” he ordered, and she reluctantly passed it through the plastic divider.
Easing back, she rested her hand on her carryon. She needed to open her suitcase, pull out the airport-approved box, unlock it and get her weapon. All without Knuckles noticing. And she had to move fast. Shitshitshit.
After chucking her phone on the front passenger floorboard, Knuckles must’ve decided she wasn’t a threat because he lowered the gun and started driving again.
Good. Let him underestimate me. Biggest mistake of your life, buddy.
As quietly as possible, she reached down and began to unzip her small suitcase. Once she had a big enough opening, she slipped her hand inside, rummaging around for the lock box. Her fingers brushed clothes…a bag of toiletries…a shoe…
Double dammit. The box must be at the bottom. Completely out of her reach. She couldn’t afford to bend down and alert Knuckles.
Okay, so Plan B. Take him by surprise, get out of the car and run.
Not the greatest plan, but she couldn’t allow him to get her on a plane to Vegas. This was her one shot at escaping, and she couldn’t just sit back and let it pass her by.
Her gun might be out of reach, but maybe she could get a hold of his gun.
Clearly, he wasn’t overly concerned with her pulling a fast one and outsmarting him because he’d laid the weapon down beside him.
Completely unconcerned. Far too confident.
Most likely, he believed she was just a weak, helpless female.
Well, surprise, asshole. Underestimating her would be his downfall because she was no frail, helpless woman. Screw that.
Steadying her nerves and coiling every muscle to strike, Sabrina launched forward, throwing her upper body through the open divider and making a grab for the gun laying on the front seat.
Her fingers wrapped around it, but not before Knuckles realized what she was doing.
He grabbed her wrist and gave it a vicious twist. Sabrina cried out, and the car swerved as they fought over the weapon.
Her side hit the sharp edge of the plastic window she was hanging through, and the mobster shook until she thought her wrist was going to snap.
With a yelp, she dropped the gun and scrambled into the back again.
“Bitch!” he yelled, waving the weapon at her. “You’re lucky I don’t shoot you in the head for that.” He slammed the divider shut.
Biting down on her bottom lip until it almost bled, Sabrina squeezed her hands into fists. The element of surprise was gone. She didn’t dare try for her gun again because now he was keeping a close eye on her. Breathing hard, she slumped down, cursing her failure.
Now what?
The taxi turned onto a recently-plowed driveway and she saw a hangar. They drove through the open door and parked beside a private plane. Before the car’s engine turned off, the back door flung open and someone hauled her out.
“She needs to be secured,” Knuckles warned his mobster pal who sported a chunky gold ring on nearly every finger, as well as the ink marking him as part of the Ferrante mob.
With a nod, Bling led her forward, pushing her toward the aircraft steps. “Up!”
Sabrina had already spotted the gun in his waistband, and she assumed everyone she encountered from this point forward would be armed. Unfortunately, that didn’t bode well for her. She climbed inside and the mobster shoved her down into the nearest seat.
“Don’t move,” he snapped.
Currently, she could see no way out of the bad situation, so she clicked the lap belt closed, trying not to flinch when Bling ordered her to hold her wrists out.
Without a word, she watched him roughly secure them with duct tape.
She wasn’t worried—she knew how to break free from the annoying tape.
The thing she didn’t know how to do was escape an airplane at cruising altitude.
The entire flight, Sabrina racked her brain about her best options.
Knuckles had tossed her suitcase in the back of the cabin, and it was completely out of reach.
The key to the lock box which held her gun sat in her jacket pocket.
As long as they didn’t search her suitcase, she had access to a weapon.
But would she have an opportunity to get to it? And just how stupid were they?
Hell, she hoped incredibly stupid.
Unfortunately, they never gave her the opportunity she needed. Even when she’d asked to use the bathroom, Bling stuck to her like glue, standing guard outside the door.
Following what felt like the longest flight of her life, the thugs took Sabrina to a high-walled compound in the desert. Rocco must’ve fled for safer quarters after they’d breached his penthouse at The Starlight. Unless he’d never been there in the first place.
Now, Sabrina stood in front of Rocco Ferrante in his office. The mob king wore an expensive suit and a smug expression on his too-tan face. Unlike his overweight, older brother Donato, Rocco looked fit and was much more attractive. Well, if you liked evil personified. And she certainly did not.
“Agent Ross.” Her name rolled off his tongue like a snake’s soft, yet deadly, hiss. “It’s so nice to finally make your acquaintance.”
“I’m sure,” she responded, voice dry, somewhat acidic, and hopefully very antagonizing.
“My plan always centered on getting to you. Taking Knight’s daughter was a distraction, something to keep them occupied while a team came for you.
Except you went with them. I wasn’t counting on that, but everything worked out.
And killing that little girl wouldn’t have given me the satisfaction I’m going to have with you. ”
An ice-cold trickle of dread crept down her spine. He’s just trying to scare me. Pushing her shoulders back, she met his dark eyes. So empty and flat. A killer’s eyes.
“You see, Agent Ross,” he practically cooed, “while dear Emma was merely a trinket, you are a prize. Because you’re going to tell me everything I want to know.
Give me all the information I need to get the FBI off my ass.
I want to rule my empire without their constant harassment.
” He stepped closer—close enough for her to smell his obnoxious cologne—and she willed herself not to shrink away.
“You’re also going to give me the name of the bastard who killed my brother so I know exactly whose balls I’m going to cut off and grind up in my sink’s disposal. ”
“I don’t know who—”
“Then I’ll kill them all!” he shouted. Immediately regrouping, he smoothed his hands down his suit jacket and stepped back with a low chuckle. “Either way, we’re going to have so much fun together, Agent Ross.”
Yeah, she didn’t think so.
“Take her to the bunker,” Ferrante ordered. “See you soon, Agent Ross.”
Biting her tongue, she steeled herself when Knuckles and Bling each grabbed an arm and hauled her out of the room. Doing her best to appear stoic and unafraid, she hurried along, preventing them from dragging her. Even though they probably would’ve enjoyed it thoroughly.
When they reached the back door, they pushed through it and led her outside.
Blinking against the bright Las Vegas sunshine, she walked forward, her boots kicking up sand as they trudged forward past cacti, succulents, and pavers making up the desert chic landscape.
A big, ugly concrete wall circled the entire property.
Once they reached the middle of the yard, the men stopped.
Beside a large boulder, she barely discerned the edges of a hidden door in the ground. Painted tan, it blended right into the rest of the yard’s warm earth tones. Knuckles leaned over and hoisted it open. “Go!” he ordered.
Sabrina hesitated, staring down into the yawning darkness. A horrible feeling consumed her.
If you go down there, you won’t ever come up again. At least, not alive.
Sidestepping the pit to hell, she made a break for it.
Yeah, she had no exact plan, but her fight or flight kicked in hardcore, and she bolted for the edge of the property.
She’d always been fast, and she reached the concrete wall quickly, lifted her arms high over her head and whipped them down.
The duct tape snapped and she was reaching up for a handhold when a hand yanked her backward.
She hit the ground hard and let out an “Oomph!” Her ass was still vibrating from the impact when Knuckles dragged her up onto her tiptoes, bringing her eye to eye with him.
“There’s no way out for you, Agent Ross,” he sneered. “It’s over.”
Before she could respond, Bling struck the side of her head with the cold barrel of his gun. The force of the impact caught her off guard, and her world spun before descending into darkness.