Chapter 28 Rachel
RACHEL
I’m so damn tired. I can hardly keep my eyes open. The coffee is hot enough to scald my insides, so I blow before taking a sip. It’s been an extremely bad day, uh, two days that never seem to fucking end.
Yesterday morning, I’d woken up after the best sex of my life with the man I love.
I’d had more great sex, faced emotional turmoil when Rosco pulled away, got shot at, and was locked in the fucking dark for hours, having no clue if anyone else had survived, while also fearing the demons of my past would open the door.
Only to discover while I was hiding, my worst nightmare had come true. Vena had taken my brothers.
I’d been so relieved when Rosco opened the door.
He was alive and in my arms. That lasted all of two point five seconds before I’d been pissed as hell at him for leaving me alone.
Then the love of my life had broken my heart by giving me the cold shoulder.
He hadn’t shown up at Luke’s to stop me from leaving, and so far, he hasn’t called to see if I’m alive or not.
Yes, I should have ditched my cell phone so I couldn’t be tracked, but I haven’t yet. The idiotic part of my heart that keeps hoping Rosco will come for me, just like Shelby had said, but he hasn’t. It’s time to stop dreaming and face reality. I’m on my own like I’ve always been.
It’s nearly six a.m. Monday morning. Vena has had my brothers almost twenty-four hours. God only knows what he’s done to them in that time. Another sip of the scalding brew helps to clear my blurry eyes as I stare at the unmoving gate.
I’ve been watching Winthrop’s estate all night, but I can’t get close enough to tell much of what’s going on. Are my brothers even here? Did Vena already leave for Chicago with them? If he took them straight to the airport, they’re long gone by now.
Just when I’ve convinced myself to head to Chicago, there’s movement at the gate.
A limo emerges with the back driver’s window down.
Reginald Vena leans out to speak to the guard.
After a brief conversation, the guard nods and the limo drives away.
I put my van in gear to follow. I just know Nicky and Ricky are in that vehicle.
I feel it in my bones. Now how do I stop the mafia boss, retrieve his prized possessions, and not die in the process?
I have no clue. That’s future-me’s problem.
Thirty minutes later, it’s clear that Vena is taking my brothers back to Chicago, but he isn’t flying them there.
The limo I’d followed from Winthrop’s estate had stopped at a car dealership.
I’d gotten a glimpse of the twins as they’d been moved from the limo to a dark blue SUV with tinted windows.
Winthrop and Vena had stood outside the SUV for several minutes in a heated discussion. I couldn’t hear what they were arguing about, but eventually, Winthrop had stepped back. Vena had gotten into the passenger side of the SUV, and it had driven away, with me following along behind them.
We’re on the interstate, heading out of Virginia. I have no idea how I’m going to get my brothers away, but I have to try. Perhaps when they stop for gas or food I can find a way, but until then, I’m stuck following them and praying they haven’t noticed.
I sip my coffee to stay awake. There isn’t much traffic on the road since we’ve left the cities behind us. A car in my rearview mirror is coming up on me pretty fast. Someone’s in a hurry, I think before reaching over to turn on the radio.
A Kelsey Balarini song is playing. I haven’t heard it before, but I like it. The car displays the title, ‘I hate love songs’. I chuckle because yeah, after the last forty-eight hours, so do I.
Checking my mirror again, the vehicle I’d seen approaching is riding my bumper.
There isn’t any traffic, but they aren’t passing, which is concerning.
I slow down a bit, but I can’t risk losing sight of the car with my brothers.
Maybe this tailgating asshole will just go around, but it’s clear they aren’t going to.
Does Vena know I’m following him? I wonder while trying not to freak out, but how can I not? I’m following a mob boss who’s kidnapped my brothers, and now someone is following me. This is about to be bad.
Suddenly there’s another car behind the first one, and my stomach drops out of my ass. Oh hell, shit is about to get real. The last car pulls out to pass which gives me momentary relief.
However the car only comes up beside me. I keep looking forward at the road, resisting temptation to look at the car beside me. My gut is telling me I’m not going to like what I see.
The car keeps pace with me for a few miles. I finally lose the battle and glance over to see the sedan has blacked out windows. Oh shit! Not a good sign. When I glance a second time, the windows are lowering. Lawrence Winthrop is in the passenger seat, gun in hand.
The sedan swerves into my van just as the other car plows into me from behind. I scream as the van veers toward the side of the road. My van dips off into the gravel, and I completely lose control. The van swerves side to side, wildly, the back-end fish-tailing.
My arms are jerked violently as the van is hit again from behind. My stomach drops, my body feeling weightless for seconds as the van leaves the road to sail out over an embankment.
The van slams into the ground on its passenger side, and I’m airborne again in a roll. The windows shatter, glass flying everywhere. The air bags deploy with a plume of smoke.
The sound of crunching metal is all I can hear as the van rolls and hits the ground only to bounce into the air again repeatedly. My head bobs side to side with motions of the van. My head slams into the door, and my world goes dark.
Awareness comes slowly. An acrid scent is in my nose causing me to cough. Where am I? When I force my eyes to open, my vision is blurry and I blink repeatedly, but it doesn’t help much.
My head is pounding like a base drum and nothing makes sense.
I attempt to lift my hand to my head, but my arm feels like it weighs a ton.
My hand trembles from the effort, but at last, I manage to reach my forehead.
There’s a wet sticky substance that is running down my face. What the hell happened?
I can’t move my legs, but blessedly there’s no pain in them. I blink again to clear my vision, but I still can see a thing. Steam, or is it smoke, is pouring from under the crumpled hood of my van. I’m unable to see what’s beyond the hood.
Memories come flooding back all at once. Lawrence Winthrop ran me off the road, and I crashed. Oh God! Did he leave me for dead or is he somewhere nearby?
Movement in the corner of my left eye catches my attention. The pain is overwhelming, but I manage to turn my head. Men in suits are coming down the embankment with guns in their hands. Lawrence Winthrop is leading the charge. Shit!
Fear overrides the pain. I begin to franticly scramble to get out of my seatbelt, but it isn’t budging.
I reach for the glove box where I have my gun stashed, my right arm stretched out as far as it will go, but it’s too far away.
Between the seatbelt stuck and the metal bent around my legs, I’m pinned in place.
Without that gun, I have no way to defend myself. Is this how my life ends?
Lawrence reaches the van and pulls on my door, but it is mangled so badly he can’t open it. Terrified beyond belief, I keep trying to free myself or at least reach the glove box without success.
“Get down here, Vinnie!” Lawrence yells. “I can’t get this door open. I need help getting her out.”
“Get away from me!” I yell and pain shoots through my head. Shit! I must have hit my head harder than I thought. Lawrence is still jerking on my door, trying to open it when a rather large man appears at his side.
“Move out of the way, I got this,” the large man, Vinnie, I assume, commands in a deep rumble. His voice is as deep as he is tall. His shoulders are wide and even with his suit on, I can tell he is built like a brick house.
He grips the frame of my door where Lawrence had managed to pry it open slightly.
Vinnie gets his fingertips between the door and the frame, then he pulls, hard.
Metal groans and screeches. My door opens a bit more.
Enough that he can get his huge meaty hands between the door and the frame of my van.
This time when he pulls, the door gives. With another loud screech of metal, the door opens enough that Lawrence reaches in to grab my left arm. He pulls on me roughly, causing pain to shoot through my body at the harsh treatment.
“Ow!” I scream. “Stop, asshole!” Lawrence lets out a string of curses when he realizes he can’t just yank me out of the driver’s seat. He tries to release my seatbelt, unsuccessfully I might add.
Vinnie pushes him out of the way and whips out a large knife. I cringe when the blade pops up with a click. He comes at me with menace in his eyes. “No! Don’t! Get away from me!”
“Shut up!” he commands and reaches over me to slip the blade of the knife under my seatbelt cutting through it with ease. Once I’m cut free, he scoops me out of the seat as if I weigh nothing and turns to Lawrence.
“We need to get out of here. The cops will be here any minute.” He begins to climb up the embankment with me in his arms. I have no intention of going anywhere with these assholes if I can help it, so I begin to kick my legs and beat my fists against him.
“Ugh!” he grunts. “Stop! Don’t make me hurt you.” The tone of his voice is frightening, but I’m not giving up. I’d rather die than be taken by these men. Who knows what they’re planning to do to me? Unafraid of his threat, I don’t stop my assault, but his next words give me pause.
“Stop now or your brothers will pay for your actions.” I still immediately, giving up my futile attempt to get away and confirming that my brothers are my weakness.