Chapter Five
“ K eys caught sight of the vehicles on several cameras located on our perimeter. We have a problem. You said you were heading back the same way they’d gone?” T-Rex asked.
He forced himself to breathe in and out. “Yeah. We’re passing the entrance to the clubhouse now.”
“Hang on, King is here.”
Kendrick let out a frustrated breath. He hated giving control to anyone else.
“Hey, Kendrick. We got a visual of Sutton. It appears she left on foot shortly after you did. Our cameras show her walking across the road, but then we lose sight of her once she’s past our property lines. A short time later, the two vehicles you described passed by. We don’t have eyes that far down, since we had no reason to,” King muttered.
Everything inside him turned to stone. His lungs burned with the need to breathe, making him realize he held his breath. “Shit. Why was she walking?”
“I don’t have a fucking clue. I told her to get a ride if she had too much to drink. It never occurred to me she’d walk home. Of course, I should have taken that into consideration since she lives so close. Fuck.” The sound of a fist hitting something solid echoed through the connection.
“Boss, look.” Andre interrupted their conversation.
“What do you see?” King asked.
Unbuckling, Kendrick leaned forward to see what it was Andre saw. The sight that met his eyes had him swearing low. “There’s a shoe along the road that looks like the one Sutton wore tonight. Can your guy get any information on the vehicles?”
He and Andre moved around where the heel lay, searching for other clues. Kendrick listened while King spoke to someone in the background. Gravel crunched beneath his shoes as he ate up the distance between him and Andre.
“You can see tire tracks disturbed the gravel here, Boss.” Andre’s hulking form squatted a few feet to the left of where he stood. “I think they pulled in front of her, probably offering a lift. Since her shoe is here, I’d wager to say she didn’t go willingly.”
He eyed the road and walked back a few feet. “Hey, man. There’s another set of indents back here. I’d wager to say they knew what they were doing when they boxed her in.”
Kendrick looked up at the sky, wishing the MC’s cameras had reached this far down the road.
“Keys was able to pull up the plate on the first vehicle. We got a name and address.” He didn’t sound happy.
“Tell me.” Kendrick held the shoe in his hand. The now broken strap couldn’t keep the heel secured on her foot since the flimsy piece, which would normally fasten around her slim ankle, appeared shredded.
Dread clenched his insides.
“Vigliaturo. Does that name mean anything to you?”
“Vigliaturo?” he repeated. He knew a lot of men within the network. Hell, some he’d met and forgotten because they were inconsequential. He told King the same.
“Well, this guy, Vigliaturo, tried to hide the fact he owned the SUV behind an LLC owned by a corporation. Keys dug further to see if he could get us a name to go on. His skills when it comes to hacking are amazing. My guy could get the fucker’s blood type if we needed it.”
Kendrick made a mental note in case he needed Keys’ expertise in the future.
“I need to make a call.”
Andre held his hand up, showing Kendrick his cell phone. “On it.” His look screamed grim.
“Have you heard of this Vigliaturo?” Kendrick wanted to know if Andre had information to help them track the bastard.
“I know of a family with that last name. I do not know if they are the same or related. Your father and Silvio Vigliaturo did business together over twenty years ago. He also had a son around your age and a younger one.” Andre turned his phone toward them, showing his screen with a grainy image of two men and a woman.
“Did my father cheat this man out of money or another business deal?” A man like his father had been a ruthless, unscrupulous bastard who didn’t give a fuck who he screwed over as long as he came out on top.
“Worse.” Andre breathed a long sigh. “He slept with his moglie. Some say it was consensual, others disagree. Camilla is the one in the picture. She is a very beautiful woman, sì? Vigliaturo, not so much. However, there is no denying your father had been very handsome and charismatic. So it wasn’t too far-fetched to think she slept with him willingly. Of course, when Silvio discovered the affair, she denied doing so willingly. Your father never refuted the claims. He walked away as if they were below him. Mind you, this happened over twenty years ago.”
Kendrick pinched the bridge of his nose. “I wish I could say my father would’ve never forced a woman to sleep with him. You know, to be able to say that was below his standards. But you and I both know he had no morals.”
King grunted. “Sounds like we have a lot in common. Keys has a few locations for this Vigliaturo. I don’t think he took Sutton to fuck with you specifically.”
The thought of Sutton in the clutches of men like those from his father’s ilk made him see red. Kendrick had done many things for his family, but he’d never taken a woman against her will. Although as a boy, he’d idolized his father and even thought the man could do no wrong. How fucking mistaken he’d been.
His father took him on his first hunting trip at the tender age of eleven. He’d been excited, thinking he’d bag a massive buck like the fourteen-point prize one in their den. Of course, he should’ve known better. His father liked sadistic games. The year before, he’d introduced Kendrick to sex through a prostitute nearly three times his age. Hell, at ten, his dick hadn’t known what to do with a pussy, let alone how to pleasure one. That hadn’t stopped the elder Calderone.
As the hunting trip approached, Kendrick’s excitement increased. No way could there be a repeat of last year’s debacle. Within hours of arriving at the hunting cabin, he’d learned that deer wasn’t the prey he sought. The hunt, as the Mafia called it, was an initiation he had to pass. His father gave him a loaded gun and a map. The words that echoed around the others as his father led him onto the wraparound deck still had the power to send a shiver down his spine. His mission was simple. Hunt to kill or be hunted and killed.
His father stabbed his finger on a red circle. “Right there is your mark, boy. Only one of you will return to the cabin alive. Don’t let me down, Kendrick.”
He looked at the circle and then back at his father, wanting to ask who he was supposed to take out. The hardness of the cold, dark eyes staring down at him kept his words locked inside. He gave a jerky nod.
“Good choice. See you soon, boy.”
Kendrick closed his eyes, shaking off memories of the past. The Calderone name alone sent dread down the spine of many due to their ruthless reputation. He had zero qualms when it came to enforcing rules by any means, whether it be in his business or personal life. Showing those who fucked with him just how feral he could be didn’t bother him. That night, twenty-eight years ago, he’d walked out of the woods at eleven years old with blood covering his hands and ice in his veins. One lesson taught to him with a slight learning curve was that a body could be disposed of easily if you knew how to do it correctly.
The blood that stained his hands didn’t faze him now. He only took out those who, in his mind, deserved to meet their maker. Most of whom were men like his father. The man he’d killed had been one of them, but he’d been a traitor. Blood in. Blood out.
SUTTON WOKE UP ON A small bed reeking of musty, damp earth. From the smell, they must not have had anyone there recently.
She breathed shallowly, hoping it wouldn’t alert anyone she was awake. Lifting her eyelids enough to chance a look around at the rest of the room allowed her to see she was alone. Relief rushed over her in waves. Keeping her eyes shielded with her lashes in case someone watched, Sutton tested her limbs for damage. A rush of happiness flooded her when she noticed all her clothing except her shoes appeared still intact, albeit not as neat and pristine.
She tried to move her hands and feet. They felt heavy, reminding her of when she’d fallen into a lake as a child. The bottom had been mud, making it hard for her to trudge through in her little pink rain boots. Now, lifting her arms and legs, she struggled, hating the weighted feeling as if stuck in sludge. The thought sent panic through her system. A keening cry threatened to burst free. Her heart pounded against her sternum.
Sutton pressed her hand against her chest, sucking in a deep breath, and held it for a long three count, then let it out. She repeated the action several times, working to find a semblance of peace. She needed to keep calm, or whoever kidnapped her would return sooner rather than later.
“Think, girl. What’s the last thing you remember?” she whispered.
After slipping out of the reception, she’d walked through the gate and onto the road. Shit, she hadn’t gone against traffic like normal.
A vehicle stopped right before her, and she had nowhere to go. She’d turned to flee back toward the clubhouse, slipping on loose gravel when an identical SUV came to a rocking stop, boxing her between them. She’d hoped it was someone from the MC who King had ordered to give her a ride. He didn’t like it when others disobeyed him, but she wasn’t one of his brother’s women or the property of the MC. Ayesha wouldn’t have fucked up like her and left without protection.
She scanned both vehicles and the men, trying to remember details. There wasn’t much to memorize. Two Black Suburbans, new models. Short, stocky men, obviously up to no good. She was screwed.
The passenger door opened, drawing her startled gaze. A short, stocky man in a suit moved toward her with predatory grace. His face would’ve been handsome if not for the scowl.
Perhaps if he hadn’t reached inside his jacket and the very noticeable gun didn’t glint in the moonlight, Sutton might not have panicked, but having a big scary gun-wielding man coming at her freaked the fuck out of her.
She shifted to sprint across the road, crying out as her foot slid on loose rocks. “Dammit.”
Sutton caught herself before she could fall on her ass, catching herself on both palms. Rocks bit into her flesh. Tears made it hard to see.
The slight mishap allowed the man in the first car to spring forward and grab her. She tried to roll away from his reach, kicking her legs in front of her prone form.
“Bitch, if you want to die, keep fighting me,” he growled in a slightly accented tone she couldn’t place.
A sharp pain stabbed her in the neck. Her hand came up, covering the spot, and she looked up to see a large man standing behind her, holding a syringe in one hand. He spit something onto the ground, and then her world went topsy-turvy in seconds. One of the men lifted and slung her over their shoulder. Bile filled her mouth, and she worked to swallow as darkness claimed her.
IF ONLY SHE COULD GO back to sleep where dreams of a dark-haired devil held her by the throat while he stared her in the eyes as he rubbed his hardness against her. Oh god, she had to stop having dirty fantasies while being held captive.
Fresh air. That’s what she needed.
She scanned the room, taking deep gulps of oxygen into her lungs. A rustle to the left near the doorway made her whip her head around so fast she nearly toppled over onto the floor.
Shit! Keeping calm was harder than ever. She steeled herself against whatever would be coming through the entrance. More than likely, a brute of a man with threats or more drugs, like the one who’d approached her from behind on the road. Were they going to traffic her for sex or, worse, organs? It wasn’t unheard of.
Seconds turned into minutes.
It became a challenge to hold her eyes open, thinking if she blinked, she’d miss it when they came in. Eyes burning, she allowed herself to release the grip she held on herself. With every inhale and exhale, sanity became a little clearer and less of a spiral into a void. Whatever they’d pumped into her system that seized her control and held her ability to move waned. Her control of each limb was not as weighted.
Progress. The one word filled her with hope. Whoever drugged her hadn’t counted on how quickly her body metabolized drugs. If they’d done their research on her, they’d have known she didn’t react like a normal person to narcotics. Waking up during surgery hadn’t been fun for her or the staff working to remove her appendix. Most seven-year-old little girls don’t wake up when they give the sleepy shit, but she wasn’t normal. They called it anesthesia awareness and said it was rare, with a one-in-a-thousand chance of it happening. A shudder rippled through her when she remembered the time she’d woken up during oral surgery. The doctor had taken out three of the four of her wisdom teeth when she’d felt the first twinge of pain. Her eyes were heavy, yet she’d forced them open, wishing she could go back to oblivion. They’d given her more anesthesia immediately, but good gracious, those moments of awareness were horrid. Her body was not right.
Stay calm. Wait. Escape.