24. Jacklyn
24
JACKLYN
W hen I wake, darkness surrounds my heart, suffocating me.
There’s a gag in my mouth. I suppose it could be there because I let rip every curse word under the sun, eloquently followed by Daniel Russo’s name. Multiple times. I guess he didn’t want to hear that. Didn’t want to hear what an asshole he is.
My body is sore, every muscle and tendon screaming in protest. I’m bound and gagged—tied mercilessly to a cold, unforgiving chair. My wrists are secured with rope that is rough as it digs into my skin. The edges of the rope that bind my ankles are sharp, the skin at my ankles chafing with every little movement I make. I hiss at the burning sensation that sears my flesh as every breath I take sends a fresh wave of pain through my legs. But it’s not just the physical pain that makes my heart pound like a drum in my chest. It’s the weight of the mental anguish weighing me down. I’ve lost Marco. I’ve lost my men. And I’ve lost my brother.
If there’s any small mercy for me out of all of this, it’s that I sent Jack away. He won’t be here to suffer while he watches me forfeit my life. He won’t be left here on his own to pick up the pieces of an already shattered life. He’ll have the life that is owed him; he’ll have the care and attention he needs, even though he won’t have me. He’ll at least have life. And for that, I’m grateful.
There’s a single lightbulb overhead casting long shadows against the peeling walls. It’s too bright for my eyes, and I lower my lids to stem the stabbing pain at the back of my pupils. The faint hum of a fridge sounds somewhere in the distance, piercing the quiet and aggravating my burgeoning migraine.
There are no windows in this room, and the concrete floor beneath my feet is cold in a way that seeps into my bones. There’s the faintest sound, the soft yet angry, barely audible scrape of boots against the ground; fear hammers in my chest as it draws nearer then fades, then comes nearer again.
I don’t know how much time passes. My head rolls back and forth, and I fall in and out of consciousness as I lose all semblance of time.
"Wake up, Princess," a voice growls from the darkness.
My head snaps up, my body tensing instinctively. I don’t need to see him to know he’s back. I can feel his pathetic presence in the air around me. The quiet arrogance in his voice. The dangerous calm. The man who orchestrated all of this, the one responsible for my current misery.
My pulse quickens as the dim light reveals his silhouette in the doorway. Tall, imposing, with the unmistakable air of someone who’s here only to inflict more damage. His hair is dark, his face obscured by the faint stubble that shades the sharp cut of his jaw. His eyes, cold and calculating, glint at me as he steps into the room.
I watch quietly, my chest rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths. But there’s something odd about the picture presented to me. I see him in shadow, then I see two of him. I see him here, then he’s there. I see him everywhere, all around me as a dull pain radiates through me.
“My, how the mighty have fallen,” Daniel muses, moving toward me. “Still think someone’s coming to rescue you? Honey, there’s no-one left!” He cackles like a deranged hyena as he slaps a hand against his thigh, amused at his own words.
I glare at him, trying to keep my eyes open. I realize that one of my eyes in nearly swollen shut; I must have sustained some damage during the struggle with him. My head drops to my chest, feeling heavy.
“Oh yes, you might be feeling a little out of sorts,” he informs me. “Nothing like a good dose of coke to subdue Jackie the Wildcat.”
Fuck me to hell and back, the fuckwit drugged me.
I pull at my binds in anger, causing more friction against the abrasions already marking my skin.
My mind wanders to all the ways I want to kill him when I’m finally free of my shackles and able to drive a knife through his chest. I think with all the rage coursing through me, I’m capable even of ripping through his chest with my bare hands to remove his heart to trample all over it.
The way his lips curl into a smirk sends a shiver down my spine. "It’s cute, you know, to see you this way. You’re a little princess fighting in a world you don’t belong in. A world you never belonged in.”
My jaw tightens, a simmering rage rising beneath my skin as I pull uselessly against the gag. There's so much I want to say—so much that will burn through the silence once that gag comes off. Tied to this chair, I may be restrained, but my tongue is still free. If he thinks abuse is his game, I’ll play it right back. His words are carefully chosen, meant to strip me of whatever strength I have left. And what better way to do that than by keeping me silent?
The chair groans beneath me as I shift, straining for some kind of leverage, but the ropes hold fast, unyielding. I don’t need words to speak; my eyes do all the talking, sending daggers his way. He finally sighs, exasperated, and lowers the gag. Guess he’s curious to hear what I have to say—or maybe he’s just bored and looking for a bit of entertainment.
“I’m going to fucking kill you,” is the first thing I say to him as the fabric that was silencing me drops to the ground, even though I’m trembling on the inside. The defiance is there, unmistakable, but underneath the bravado, I know I’m royally fucked.
Daniel’s smile widens. “You’re killing days are over, sweetheart. Just remember who’s the one sitting in the chair with their limbs tied. You’re not in a position to be making threats.”
My mind races, but it’s too slow to form a response before he continues again. He pauses, his gaze flickering to the walls as if contemplating something. “I’m not going to lie to you, Jacklyn. You’re valuable to people, but you’re also a liability. A lot of people want you dead.”
My heart skips a beat, but my expression doesn’t falter. “Then why keep me alive?”
Daniel tilts his head, his eyes narrowing. “Why do you think?” He leans in closer, and his breath—hot and rancid—brushes against my ear. “It’s not enough to kill you. Because there’ll always still be one more Vicci to get through. No, this doesn’t work for me unless you’re both gone.”
“Fuck you!” I try to spit, but I know my words come out as more of a slur.
“I’m sure watching his sister die will be enough to bury him under his grief. No coming back from that, I reckon. He should have died months ago, but he somehow survived my bullets,” he says. “I failed then, but I won’t fail again. I’m going to end the Vicci line once and for all.”
And suddenly everything clicks into place with a jolt, and I see with shocking clarity all the things that Daniel Russo is. Monster. Animal. Disloyal pig. Daniel Russo shot my brother. He’s the one who destroyed my world; the one who continues to do so. I shake my head, the heavy weight it carries drowning me in grief. Just knowing that he has no problem hurting my brother is doing crazy things to my already exhausted brain.
“Why?” I whisper, shaking my head in confusion. Even in my limited conscious state, high as a bloody kite because Daniel Russo is a weak, spineless bastard who needs to control a woman with a substance, I can understand the absurdity of everything he’s done being merely for power. But that’s the thing about men like Russo; there is never a valid reason for their actions.
“Why indeed,” he muses.
“You’ll never get away with this,” I hiss. “You’ve broken every rule under the sun; you think the families will forgive you killing a family head that’s protected by Seattle?”
He scoffs. He doesn’t seem to care; thinks he’s beyond the judgement of the heads of the five families. But I know exactly how they’ll see this; they’ll think if he can do it so easily to another, he can do it to anyone. There’ll be no room for expulsion. Hell, they won’t even run him out of town. It will be a straight shot to his heart even before he ascends the throne. This little reminder puts a flurry in my heart. I can’t wait for them to put him down; and even if that comes long after I’m gone, I’ll still be doing my happy dance in my grave.
Daniel rolls his shoulders and fixes me with his hard eyes. “You let me worry about that, Princess. Where’s Jack?”
My stomach twists at the mention of my brother. Everything I’ve done has been for him. For his protection. For his survival. I’m his most loyal soldier. His protector. I’ve done nothing but plan around him and his needs the past few months. Now I’m standing on a fragile tightrope, fear caking my insides as my mind shatters under the possibility of Jack getting hurt.
The sound of Daniel’s boots on the floorboards is the only thing I hear as he paces back and forth, waiting. Like a predator. I can feel it, even without looking his way—the weight of his eyes on me, the knowledge that he isn’t just going to wait for me to break. No. He’s going to break me to get to my brother, piece by fragile piece.
My heart flutters painfully in my chest.
But I can’t stop the rush of dread, the cold whisper in my mind that for the first time, I feel like I’m not in control. This isn’t just a kidnapping. This isn’t just about money or leverage. This is personal. And it’s going to break me.
“Fuck you,” I hiss from between clenched teeth.
“ Where. Is. Your Brother ?!” he bellows.
My head, of its own accord, rolls and drops to my chest, its sheer weight too heavy for me to carry. Daniel lifts my head by the chin until I’m looking up at him, squinting from beneath one good eye and another swollen like a grape.
“Where are you hiding him, Jacklyn? I saw the flight plans you filed.”
This is what he wants? He wants Jack? Which madman would be consumed with finishing off a man that’s confined to a wheelchair? A man who will never walk again, will never rule the way he once did? This is madness, it’s sheer lunacy.
“Well, if you know that, then you should know where he is. Come on Daniel, keep up, will you?”
This makes him angry. He grabs my hair and pulls it back until my head is bent at a totally unrealistic and inhumane angle as he looks down at me, his anger simmering, an explosion on the horizon.
“Tell me where he is.”
“Don’t waste your time, Daniel. You know I’ll never tell you. If that’s the reason you’re keeping me alive, you should kill me now, because I’ll die before I tell you a damn thing.”
He throws my head back with such force that the chair goes tumbling to the ground, with me in it. I land on my side, and already I feel the bloom of a bruise forming on my shoulder. Son of a bitch.
“Where is he?”
“None of your Goddamn business,” I hiss.
“The end of the road, Jackie. You’re at it. The final chapter in your story.” He leans closer, his fingers brushing against my cheek as he tilts my chin up, forcing me to look into his eyes. "You should have stayed out of this world, Jacklyn. Now, you’ll die in it."