22. Diego
DIEGO
It’s dark.
I blink, and it stays dark.
What the fuck?
Closing my eyes, I screw them up as tight as I can and wait a few seconds, then I slowly open them again, but everything remains pitch black. A cold panic grips my chest. I blink again.
And again.
So many times that I can’t decipher whether my eyes are really open or I’m just tricking myself into thinking they’re open.
With each blink, I stretch my face, but nothing brushes against my temples or nose to suggest there’s anything over my eyes.
Testing each of my limbs, nothing restricts my movements, either.
There’s just darkness.
Smothering, all-consuming darkness that closes in on me until my heart is racing and my panic turns into fear.
Was it the crash?
Did I go blind from the crash?
I remember the glass shattering while the car was dragged along the ground, but that was Valentina’s window, not mine. Did a shard somehow fly up and sever my sight and I didn’t notice until now? My last moments of sight involved those shadows and that blinding light.
Oh, my God.
Maybe they weren’t shadows and I was already going blind!
Bolting upright, something catches on my arm, but I’m unable to see what it is, which only spikes my panic further. Attempting to brush it away, whatever I’m lying on dips and as I move my leg, something closes around my ankle.
“Ahh!” I scramble away but the pressure follows me, catching around my legs and ankles like clawing hands fighting to drag me into unknown places. As I scramble, my hands suddenly reach air and with nothing beneath them, I plummet down to the ground and land hard on my shoulder.
Whatever’s clawing at my legs follows.
“Let go!” I yell, kicking out at whatever’s there.
Time and time again I kick, but my feet come into contact with nothing but air and warmth, even as the restriction around my legs tightens further.
Rolling onto my stomach, I almost make it onto my hands and knees but the restriction becomes smothering.
I’m gasping for air while hot sweat breaks out across my shoulders and back.
I half shuffle, half crawl my way across a rough yet soft floor until my head collides with something solid and I slump.
I’m blind.
I’m blind and I’m going to die before I ever find out what the fuck is going—
Something clicks and the room is suddenly bathed in soft yellow light, illuminating everything around me.
The sudden brightness forces me to briefly close my eyes, but when I open them, I’m in an ordinary-looking bedroom with pillows and blankets trailing a path to where I’m huddled at the wall near a wooden dresser with one blanket still trapped around my legs.
Not blind.
Not stuck.
Just lost in the darkness.
I swallow hard and slowly push myself into a seated position, then work to free my leg from the blanket. It falls away with two twists, and I breathe a deep, yet trembling, sigh of relief.
“Finished?” rumbles a deep voice that feels more like vibrations than actual speech.
Given the sheer bulk of the man standing in the opposite corner of the room, it’s a wonder he went unnoticed for so long.
He’s almost as broad as he is tall, with short, black hair kept in tight waves across his head while a few small curls drift down across his forehead.
Huge muscles bulge from his crossed arms and he regards me with eyes as grey as a murky moon.
Ego tells me I could take him.
Reality warns me that he’d turn me to paste in one punch.
That doesn’t make me back down and after I free myself from the blanket, I bounce to my feet. “Who the fuck are you?”
“Now is not the time for talking,” the man rumbles. “Now is the time for listening.”
“Bullshit,” I snap. “You fuckers ran us off the road. Are you fucking insane? Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? And yeah, I know it was you because I recognize you. You were the bastard taking up my entire doorway a couple of days ago. Yeah, I saw you. Motherfucker. Think you can chase me across the city and try to kill me and my girl and then walk away? Not a fucking chance, because you pissed me the fuck off and honestly, I’m pretty fucking tired of being hounded like a dog! ”
The man doesn’t move.
He doesn’t even appear to breathe.
He just stands there like a shadow come to life, blocking my route to the door and watching me like I’m some kind of specimen.
It makes my skin crawl and the prickly sweat streaking down my back quickly soaks into my shirt.
“So,” I say before the silence can drag on too long. “How about you turn the fuck around and walk out of here and don’t come back until you bring my girl, huh? How about that?”
I’ve never been much of a confrontational man, but the idea that someone like this, or anyone like him, could be holding Valentina somewhere is enough to unlock the territorial urge that comes with my aching desire to see her and make sure she’s alive.
“Diego Pérez,” the man says slowly. “Thirty-three years old. Older brother, Malcom. Died when you were fifteen. Your legal guardian and only surviving relative. You turned to drugs, heroin, mostly. Spent the next thirteen years of your life so high, it’s a wonder you’ve got any backbone left to stand there and speak to me like you have any power here. ”
The man pushes off the wall and somehow grows a couple of inches taller and bulkier as he approaches.
“Nearly died from a drug overdose on September nineteenth, took that as a wake up call. Been clean five years. Bar manager. Ex, now. Regularly attends Narcotics Anonymous meetings at the Kelvin Community Center, a twenty-minute walk from your apartment.”
My heart pounds faster and faster until it’s a blur of sensation in my chest and there’s barely any space left for me to suck air into my lungs. He stops a foot away from me and despite the distance, the warmth radiating from him is smothering.
“So you know a couple of things about me,” I snap, lifting my chin defiantly. “I don’t give a shit. It changes nothing. My life is an open book.”
The burly man’s expression doesn’t change until he lunges forward and slams his fist into the wall near my head. Plaster crumbles from the impact as if the wall were made of sawdust, and I can’t contain my flinch as he leans in close.
“Criminal,” he growls. “Kidnapper. And fuck knows what else.”
Kidnapper?
So these people are connected to Valentina. Given the condition she was in when she fled into my car, and the fact that one of them said the exact same thing to me as the cop who tried to kill me, I have to keep my mouth shut.
They tortured her. They cut her up and hurt her to the point that she was that angry, trembling mess in my car, and now that they’ve tracked us down, God knows what they’re doing to her. They could be hurting her right now while I’m staring down this bull.
“Fuck you,” I snarl with every bit of strength I have left. “You can’t intimidate me. I know who you are. I know the kind of monsters you are. I’m not telling you a damn thing, so go on, punch that kind of hole into my face. I don’t give a shit.”
I’d deserve it.
If I’d been faster, smarter, hell, if I’d just kept driving, then no one would have found us. I’d planned to toss my phone anyway, and then Mindy wouldn’t have a number to give bounty hunters or anyone else.
“My name… is Bradley,” the burly man says, leaning away from the wall and sending another handful of plaster scattering to the floor as he removes his fist from the hole. “I’m not going to waste your time or mine.”
“Then let me the fuck go.”
“No.”
“I said—”
“And I said this is the time for listening!” Despite not raising his voice, a sudden heat cascades across my shoulders as if I’ve just been scolded and my mind goes blank.
Listening.
Sure. Whatever.
I can do that.
Bradley paces away from me while brushing dust from his knuckles, then he turns to face me.
“I know you kidnapped Valentina. I don’t know why. I know you hurt her. I don’t know why. I know you then kept her alive and with you. I don’t know why. I don’t care if it was perversion or torture, I don’t care if it was a kink or if someone paid you to do it. I want to know why.”
My lips remain sealed. Is this bastard trying to pin her injuries and well-being onto me? Fuck that.
“Tell me why,” Bradley continues. “Tell me where you held her.”
I maintain my silence.
“I thought I would give you the courtesy of asking you directly, man to man,” Bradley says. He brings his hands together and slowly cracks his knuckles, one at a time. “My mistake.”
“I know who you are,” I growl. “You tried to kill me once and I didn’t talk then. I’m sure as hell not telling you anything now.”
“Not even to protect Mindy?”
Air catches at the base of my throat and my eyes widen. “Mindy?”
“Your ex-girlfriend. Or current, at least, according to her. She’s the only person in your life who actually meant something once upon a time. Or should I pay a visit to old Hank? According to his medical records, he’s had two heart attacks this year. Maybe the old boy is due a third.”
“Are you fucking insane?” I stalk forward despite every warning in my mind screaming at me to stop.
“You think it’s funny to mess with people’s lives like that?
To stalk and threaten them? You should be disgusted with yourself, you hear me?
I don’t give a shit what big, bad wolf you bark up to.
I’m not telling you shit, so you might as well kill me because every single person you hurt trying to make me talk will be another staple on my motherfucking mouth! ”
Bradley’s eyes narrow but before he can speak, the door behind him swings open and another man walks in. He’s tall with tawny skin and close-cropped brown hair, and a loose tank hangs off his broad shoulders.
“Relax, Bradley,” the man says. “He’s a friend. He’s not who we’re after.”
“You sure?” Bradley grunts, not taking his eyes off me.
“Yep. Raven got Valentina talking a little. He’s not it.”
“Valentina?” I turn to the stranger who flashes me a rather charming smile. “Where is she? Is she alright? If you’ve hurt her, I swear to God—”
“Relax.” The man chuckles. “She’s fine. Come on, you can ask her yourself.”