Chapter 4
V/I = R
Zoe
I wake up to a bright light and a mind-splitting headache, “Fuck.”
I hold the back of my head and grimace when I feel dried blood. Slowly I sit up and take in my surroundings, “What the hell?” I growl.
I know it’s the Karma boys that have me, it’s the only thing that makes sense. Them catching me was part of the plan, but them kidnapping me, was not.
I stood from the bed, thoroughly surprised I wasn’t bound to it. However, the raw skin on my wrists and ankles tells me I was bound at some point. Assholes.
I take in my surroundings. A massive room that puts my studio apartment to shame.
A king-sized bed, which I hate to admit-- is comfortable as hell.
Other than the bed there is a black nightstand that is lacking a lamp as well as a matching dresser on the wall opposite the bed.
The walls are bare and a soft heather gray and lack any resemblance of decor let alone comfort.
Except one wall is a full window wall that shows a dense forest with a light fog rolling through the trees despite the sun rising above the horizon.
I continue rifling through the room to find that the dresser and the nightstand are both empty.
Just for the hell of it, I tried the door, and it was locked… as expected.
I tried another door which to my surprise, opened to a bathroom that was easily twice the size of my apartment.
A rain shower and a soaking tub sit to the left, and his and her sinks to the right.
Further into the bathroom is a toilet that sits behind a door of its own, and then there is one final door I have to go through.
This door swung open to the biggest walk-in closet I’ve ever seen. It alone is a spacious master bedroom. With a lack of options for weapons I’m really at a loss. I’ve been in more threatening kidnapping situations before so I guess I can’t complain at the moment. But I was still kidnapped.
I do a double check on my body to find myself unharmed, other than the thudding in my head. They must have taken all of the weapons from my body which makes me shiver considering where some of those weapons would hide.
“Those mother fuckers.” I sigh. “Come on Z, think.”
I rack my brain for a minute longer, then decide to pull a pillow case from one of the fifty pillows on the bed. “This will have to do, considering they even took my shoelaces.” I mutter to myself.
I roll the pillowcase tight in my hands and wring it into a tight makeshift rope and plant myself to the side of the door.
Now we wait.
I stand like that for what seems like two hours, waiting and listening.
Finally, I hear footsteps and the sound of someone humming.
The steps come to a stop at the door and after an electronic beep comes the sound of a lock unlatching.
The door swings open and one of the men takes a step in, and before registering who it could be; I attack.
I jump from behind him and pull the pillowcase tightly around his neck and tighten. The man quickly releases himself by knocking me on my ass, and it's all a flash of movement before I am once again being straddled.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” He grunts.
“Ah, Brandon.” I laugh humorlessly. “How’s your balls?
Didn’t learn your lesson yet?” I slowly move my feet, so they are planted to the ground, ready to buck him off of me like the way I did to Teddy.
Before I could act, Brandon flattens my knees back down and plants his heavy boots over them to keep me in place.
“Keep fighting me, princess. I like a challenge.” He pants, clearly out of breath from either me choking him with a pillowcase, or from his counterattack. I’d assume it’s both.
“Don’t. Call. Me. That.” I growl as I continue to writhe underneath him looking for a way that I can get back on top.
“Only when you stop acting like a brat, princess” Brandon has contained his breath now and just continues to hold my wrists tightly.
I let out a frustrated grunt now that I realize there is no way I can counter my opponent. “Fine.” And I lay limp.
“That’s a good girl.” He purrs, making some heat slowly burn in my lower stomach, but I force myself to ignore it.
Now is not the time, Z.
“Now, can I trust that you won't try to hurt me if I get off of you?” He asks.
I refuse to answer his question and let myself try to catch my breath.
“Can I trust you, princess?” He lets his free hand run his knuckles down my cheek then to my neck.
“You shouldn’t.” I smirk but then spit in his face.
This makes him remove both of his hands off of me to wipe his eyes, creating the perfect window of time for me to roll us over to put me on top of him.
This time I have him on his stomach and I straddle his back side.
Rushing, I pull my earring out of my ear and hold the pointy end in front of his eye, making him freeze in place.
“Now, why am I here?” I growl in his ear, using my free hand to grip his hair at the crown of his head to keep him steady.
“You’re here because I need information from you,” a voice calls out from behind me.
I spare a quick glance at the person standing in the door and focus my attention back to the man underneath me.
“What is it you want to know, Maxi pad?” I called out.
“Lots of things. I’d be willing to discuss them down stairs at the kitchen table, you’re probably famished.” Max says.
I scoff, “Yea, and turn my back to let this fucker attack me? No thanks, maxi pad. I’m not hungry” I pull the earring closer to Brandon’s eye almost skinning the iris. My stomach growls loudly, exposing my lie.
Leave it to my body to betray me.
“My name is Max or Mr. Karma. And you will address me as such. And your gut just told me you are, in fact, hungry. You’ll be no use to me if you starve.” Max explains.
“I’ll settle for Mr. Maxi Pad, and there’d better be pancakes.” I stand off of Brandon and keep my sights set on him as I step away.
Max grits his teeth, showing his muscles popping in his jaw. He quickly wipes away his frustration and gives me a tight smile. “You will call me Max. Let’s go down stairs.” He turns out of the door and heads to the right.
Brandon hops to his feet and starts to quickly approach me, and I prepare myself in my stance to brace his attack. “Don’t provoke her, Brandon. Come down stairs.” Max calls out.
I raise an eyebrow at Brandon daring him to come at me again. He lets out a sigh and drops his head before stepping out the door. I reply with a satisfied hum and follow after him.
We make our way down a long hallway that is lined with doors and then the stairs in silence, but he keeps glancing at me as if I’m a wild animal.
Good.
Once we make it to the bottom of the stairs I take in the rest of the home.
The house is modern but classic. It’s a Victorian style home with modern updates to the electricity and design.
Like the motion censored lights as we walk from room to room, high ceilings with beautiful molding.
The same dark hardwood floors that cover the living area is the same that is up in the room I was being held in.
The interior is dark and gloomy and exactly what I’d expect it to look like, but at the same time I find comfort in the aesthetic.
As we turn the corner, we find ourselves in a spacious dining room where the rest of the men are already gathered.
The table is long and grandiose with each place set including one with an empty chair, that I assume is meant for me, but I stay standing.
“There's our pretty sparrow.” Teddy smiles and stares at me hungrily.
I roll my eyes and look at Max. “Okay, I’m here now. So what information is it that you want?” I cross my arms and lean against the wall across from him.
“Sit.” He points to a seat.
I wanted to decline but that's when I saw the pancakes stacked high in the middle of the table. So, reluctantly I obliged.
I keep my arms crossed in front of me as I watch the four men make their plates.
Max is in a full suit. Brown trousers, a white button up with a brown vest and jacket layered on top. He has a chain that is hanging from his pocket, figuring the pompous asshat has a fucking stop watch in there.
Brandon is in gray sweatpants and plain black hoodie, clearly didn’t get up as early as Mr. Maxi Pad.
I then look over at Dean who is wearing dark jeans and a white shirt that does nothing to hide the black in carved into his body.
It also doesn’t hide the muscles bulging from them.
To keep myself from caring too closely I move my attention to the man that hasn’t taken his eyes off me, Teddy.
Teddy is wearing black ripped skinny jeans and a shirt that has a movie poster on the front, the collar and sleeves look tattered and torn but in a fashionable type of way. His hair is loose and drapes just above his shoulders lazily with a few strands falling in front of his face.
“If you’re going to keep your mouth open, you might as well—.” Before Brandon can complete his sentence, Max puts his hand up to cut him off.
“Help yourself,” Max gestures to an array of food spread across the table. “Would you like some coffee?” He asks.
“Black,” is all I say in response.
He gives me a single nod and fills the mug that's in front of me.
I make my plate with four pancakes, two breakfast sausage links, a slice of toast, a scoop of mixed fruit, a croissant, and three slices of bacon. When I begin to dig in, I catch all four men staring at me. I stare back up at them and put a fork full of pancake in my mouth.
“Big appetite?” Brandon winks at me.
“I like a variety.” I respond with my mouth still full of warm pancake and sticky syrup.
“What’s your name?” Max asks, interrupting our brief interaction that didn’t involve me trying to kill Brandon.
I set my fork down and look glare at him, “Z. My name is Z.” Leaning back in the chair and taking a sip of my coffee, not breaking eye contact with him, “Why does it matter?” I question him back.
“That’s not your full name. I need your full name.” He grips the arms of his chair as if he’s about to blow.
“Why do you need to know my full name?” I cock my head and pinch my eyebrows together.
“I’d like to know the name of the person that has been stealing work from me and my… business.”
I can barely keep from laughing at his attempt to be mysterious about his business, especially since we’re sitting here openly talking about the people I killed before he ever got the chance.
“It’s not my fault that I can do your job better than you.” I retorted. With a shrug and a sigh, I pop a piece of bacon in my mouth.
I can feel the energy shift, but Brandon's giggle breaks the tension.
“You can deflect all you want; I’ll have Brandon here dig it up on you. We’ve already been through your phone.” Max states.
This makes my stomach drop, not because of the conversations I’ve had on it but because of the other dirty details in it.
“You killed Kahl Hera, and you have some photos of his family on your phone. Why?” Brandin interjects.
“Why did I kill him or why do I have family photos of him?” I pop a sausage into my mouth trying to appear relaxed.
“So, you admit you killed him?” Max chimes in and glances at Brandon before staring into my very soul.
“Obviously.” I lean back again. There is no going back now.
What’s the price you pay for killing a mafia king and running away for four years?
“And the photos?” Brandon asks.
“What does it matter? He’s gone. Dead. Deceased. Expired. Slaughtered. Six feet under.” Getting frustrated I slam my now empty coffee mug onto the table.
“Show me those photos again.” Max demands.
Brandon pulls out my phone and passes it to Max who stares intently at the screen and back at me.
“Z… What is your name?” Max asks, now in a tone that would put the fear of God in anyone else.
“Z-Zoe.” I choke out.
“Zoe... what?” He asks again standing from his chair, and the motion is followed by the other three.
“Hera.”