CHAPTER TWELVE
Raina
I shove this ridiculous dress over my head the second I’m inside Valdrin’s Benz, barely managing to keep my butt from hitting the window in the process.
“ At least wait until I’m away from the Warwick before you give everyone on Museum Row a view of your ass,” Valdrin snorts from the driver’s seat.
From the bag he kept in the car for me, I take out my black leggings. “How long has it been since you’ve seen a woman’s ass, Val?”
He clears his throat as he swings into traffic. “None of your business.”
I pull on the leggings, a cropped black T-shirt, and then tug on my leather jacket. The familiar fit grounds me.
“This is better,” I mutter, sliding into my comfy black Skechers. “This is me.”
“You were playing a role. Your father would be proud,” Valdrin compliments me with a catch in his throat.
I shoot him a wry smile. “Any chance you want to tell me more about him? He’s the reason I’m doing this. The reason I have to marry Noel.”
Not.
“Relax.” Valdrin pats my arm from the front seat. “In time, you’ll know everything. What happened to your hair?”
I check both sides, realizing I’m missing a comb. “One of the combs must have fallen out. I’m sorry.” I remove the other one and hand it to him. “Were they expensive?”
“They belonged to my sister.” He takes the one comb from me, sounding grim.
“God, Val. I’m sorry.” I sit up. “Let’s go back to the Warwick right now. I’ll look for it. I didn’t make it past the bar.”
He shakes his head and mumbles tightly, “I can’t risk being spotted.”
I sit back, feeling like shit as I roughly twist my length into a low braid. “How much time do I have?”
Valdrin turns down a quieter street. “Connor is still at the fundraiser. And will probably go to an after-party at Gracie Mansion. Then go home to change and patrol his territory with the enforcer team.”
Hearing Valdrin say Connor’s name, all my guilt rushes back to me. Should I confess I’ve met him before? That I’ve slept with him? And that I’m struggling with the idea of killing him?
“Where are we going?” I ask and strap the knife that had been under the dress to the outside of my thigh.
“To the horrific underground tunnel I told you about.” Valdrin looks at me through the rearview mirror.
“I have faith in you, but psychos are unpredictable. Before you draw your weapon, Quinlan can take you down. You need to memorize every corner of his black site. Figure out hiding spots. Places to take cover from gunfire. Secret exits to escape.”
I shudder at the description of the place. “And if I can’t escape?”
“The Quinlans value women. I will give them that.” He looks over his shoulder. “But you will no doubt be tortured for information, including who sent you. Something you can never divulge.”
My cheek twitches. Something isn’t sitting right about all this. “Okay.”
We drive for another ten minutes, heading south to the Lower East Side. A fairly dangerous area in Manhattan, but a perfect place for a crime family to operate. It’s one of those neighborhoods where the cops turn a blind eye and let the Irish Mob and Greek Mafia rule the streets.
Valdrin slows the car. “Here.”
I glance at a rusted metal door wedged between two abandoned storefronts. There’s no address sticker or any other monikers. It’s so unassuming that the average Joe wouldn’t look twice at it.
“I don’t see any guards,” I say, only noticing a piece-of-shit car a few doors up.
“When Connor is here, there are plenty of his men around.” Valdrin shifts in his seat.
“And law enforcement has no idea?” From my experience, the Feds and local police know a lot about the mafia, but without solid evidence, they can do very little.
“This place is only whispered in dark circles among crime families and the few who made it out alive.” Valdrin turns to face me this time. “You sure you can handle this, Raina?”
I open my mouth to answer, but the tone of his voice saying my name strikes me in a way I’ve not felt before.
Respect. The faint recollection of my mother’s voice knots grief low in my belly, and it won’t let go.
I must be missing her. This unknown and surprising connection to a man she kept from me is fucking with my senses.
“A little late for second thoughts about my abilities, don’t you think?” I push out of the car without waiting for an answer.
A whooshing metallic sound makes me look at my feet. I’m standing over a subway grate. Beneath the city, there are miles of abandoned tunnels and maintenance rooms rotting away.
“Perfect place to kill people, Quinlan,” I mumble to myself. “And be killed.”
Valdrin pulls away, and I amble to the entry door. I crouch down as soon as the shadow swallows me and pull out my tools to pick the lock. It gives way in less than twenty seconds. The door creaks open and I slip inside the rank-smelling vestibule, closing the rusty door behind me.
Three feet past the main entrance, another metal door greets me, but that oddly isn’t locked.
Wearing gloves, I turn the metal handle.
The pitch-blackness challenges my eyes. I slip on a headlamp and start a trail that leads in only one direction and ends with a hole in the floorboard.
A ladder scales down into the kind of stunning darkness that makes even someone like me pause.
I assume this connects to that tunnel I saw through the subway grate.
At the start of another long tunnel made of musty concrete, I amble forward. And take note of every structural metal stud, should I have to run back this way to get out after I’ve killed Connor.
I keep moving, my steps slowing. Do I really want to kill him?
Valdrin said he murdered my father. A man I never knew. A man my mother specifically kept me from. That was her choice. Was my father mean to her when she told him about me? Did he hit her? Mafia men are either long-toothed lap dogs to their women or brutal.
Valdrin seems tame and acts like he cares about me. Noel gave off the brutal asshole vibe. Will Valdrin let Noel hurt me?
Focus, Riot!
God, I miss Rage and Ruin. But they were probably told by Meyers that I fucked up so badly, I got kicked out. I’m not surprised they’d write me off. To protect themselves.
The thick air and the wretched smell of mold in this tunnel choke me back into the moment. Metallic-tinged dust and the coppery evidence of dried blood leave no doubt about what goes on here.
Death. At Connor’s hands. Beautiful and tattooed, they held a champagne flute like a refined gentleman.
My pulse kicks up remembering how he looked at me. How it anchored into my soul, something I’ve never felt before.
I keep walking down a ramp, pushing that out of my head, and then stop short when I see it. An actual goddamn torture chamber.
Chains dangle from the ceiling. Rusted cuffs hang from rings on the wall.
A marble slab on an iron frame with leather straps sits in the corner.
A metal grate over a drain in the center of the room startles me the most. The white tiles stained with more dried blood circle the drain in a gruesome pattern.
Startled, I look for cameras, but I’m not surprised to see none. Too risky. An operation like this being filmed 24/7? Law enforcement has great hackers.
A workbench bolted against one wall is lined with tools. Hammers, pliers, and wire cutters. Clamps, scalpels, and a goddamn bone saw . Rope and zip ties hang in neat coils, like he restocks them after every use.
“Damn, Connor, I am seriously turned on here.”
That’s not good.
I spin around and take in how neat and organized this place is. An odd memory of my mother’s scrapbooking days with her cart meticulously stocked and organized flashes at me.
This isn’t Connor’s job for his mob family.
It’s his passion.
A shiver of excitement races down my spine.
I like him.
But I’m supposed to kill him.
I run my fingers over the hilt of a knife on my thigh, my brain flickering back to the way his lips curved around the word nimh.
Frustrated, I take out my phone, surprised I have a signal. That only tells me there’s a repeater here somewhere. I look up the word nimh in Gaelic and startle at the result.
Venom .
Poison? Me?
“I’m not the one with a killing basement, bucko!”
Deeper into the chamber, I spot a small kitchen in the corner. Nothing fancy, just a sink, a few cabinets above, and a narrow, dated stove. Next to it, there’s a stackable washer and dryer. On the other side of that wall, I giggle at the worn leather recliner in front of an old television.
I picture a tired Connor taking a break to check the weather while someone bleeds out on his table. Or maybe he watches a game show while someone is hanging from those chains with moments to live.
After a further glance around, I don’t see any place to sleep. I breathe in small relief. I’ve exposed plenty of nests from drug dealers who keep dirty beds for raping women. There’s also no sofa. Just that one recliner.
Then I spot the only other door. Valdrin said I need to explore all exits. Tiptoeing that way, I worry I’m getting deeper and deeper, and my escape grows further and further away.
That door also isn’t locked, so I open it and sigh at another daunting passageway with concrete floors and pipes lining the walls.
Ahead is nothing but more musty darkness.
Instead of my headlamp this time, I pull out my mini flashlight and flick it on.
Noise from above jerks my head up. A metal catwalk stretches out the entire length of this passageway.
I close the door behind me, making sure it remains unlocked.
I amble into the path, feeling the darkness swallow me up with each step, all while my heart beats like crazy. My flashlight makes loops, looking for another entrance. The ding of metal above happens again, and I see the outline of a rat.
I stride along quickly, not wanting to be peed or defecated on, and watch the rodent continue its journey with purpose in the opposite direction.
The clattering fades as I keep moving through the darkness.
At certain breaks in the passageway, I look up and see that the catwalk is joined by other sections left and right.
Halfway through, a steel ladder gives me hope that there’s an alternate way out of here.
Only, a welded-shut manhole sits above it.
Great.
I shine the flashlight toward the end of this tunnel. A burgundy steel door with silver rivets stands ominous and out of place.
I grin.
This just got interesting.
With silent footsteps, I keep going until I reach the end of the tunnel. This door is locked, which gives me pause and intrigue. If someone got loose, Connor doesn’t want anyone getting in here.
The lock on the steel door is complicated, but I work it open. After pushing it inward, I step into an entirely different world.
A hidden lair.
Oh God.
I was here. This is where Connor took me. This is where he fucked me.