Chapter 26 Annie #2
"Maybe." He strides forward and grabs my arm, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. "But I'm going to get my revenge. Now move."
He drags me toward the door, and I try to resist, try to pull away.
But he's stronger than I am by far, and the gun pressed against my ribs is a very effective persuader. I don’t think he’ll kill me yet, but he could hurt me.
I’m afraid of that—afraid of pain, no matter how much I’d like to pretend otherwise.
I have to believe Elio will find me. Or Ronan. That someone will come for me.
I can’t give up hope. Especially not now.
Desmond drags me out into the hall, where his men are waiting. There are bodies scattered everywhere and blood on the floor—fresh blood—and I have to swallow back bile. I see Diane, crumpled near the stairs, and let out a strangled cry.
"Where are you taking me?" I manage to gasp through the welling tears as he drags me down the stairs.
"Somewhere special." He pulls me through the back door and out into an alley. There's a van waiting, engine running, and two men inside. "You'll see when we get there."
He shoves me toward the van, and one of the men opens the back door. I can see zip ties and duct tape inside, and fresh terror spikes through me.
"Get in."
"No." I try to pull back, but his grip is iron. "Please, Desmond—"
"I said get in." He raises the gun, pressing it against my temple. "Or I'll go ahead and knock you out, and send pieces of you to your brother as a message. Your choice."
I get in.
The men tie my wrists behind my back, the plastic cutting into my skin. They tape my ankles together, then push me down onto the floor of the van. Desmond climbs in beside me, gun still in hand, and the door slams shut.
"Go," he orders the driver.
The van lurches forward, and through the small window, I watch the building disappear behind us. The last place I thought I might be safe. The last place I saw Elio.
And now I'm gone, and no one knows where I’m going.
"Comfortable?" Desmond asks mockingly. "I know it's not exactly first-class accommodations, but we won't be traveling long."
I don't answer—I can’t. My mind is racing, trying to figure out how to escape, how to signal for help. But with my hands tied and a gun pointed at me, there's nothing I can do.
"You know what the funny thing is?" Desmond muses, looking down at me. "I thought we really had something. You liked me. We had chemistry. We would have been a good match. And you had to go and fuck it up.”
“You had to not understand the meaning of the word no,” I hiss back, and Desmond smacks me in the jaw with the butt of the gun so hard I taste blood.
"Doesn't matter." He sneers at me. "What matters is that what’s been taken from me. First by your brother's neglect, then by your cowardice, and finally by Elio's betrayal."
"Elio didn't betray you—"
"He married you!" The shout is sudden, making me flinch. "He married you. Took what was mine and made it his. That's the definition of betrayal."
"I'm not property." I force the words out, trying to sound stronger than I feel. "I'm not something that can be taken or owned. I'm a person, and I get to choose—"
"You don't get to choose anything." He leans down, getting in my face. "You're a chess piece, sweetheart. You're a tool to be used, leverage to be exploited. And right now, you're my leverage. You’re going to get me what I want, finally. Something that I want."
The van makes a turn, and I have to brace myself to keep from rolling. We've been driving for maybe half an hour, which means we could be anywhere in the city. Or outside it. There's no way to know.
"Where are we going?" I ask again, desperate for any information.
"The old Connelly estate." His voice takes on a nostalgic tone. "The house I grew up in. Your family took it over to help mine after Siobhan married Ronan. We moved into another property."
I remember that estate. Ronan bought it years ago as an investment, then never did anything with it. It's been sitting empty, slowly decaying.
"It's been empty for years," I say. "There's nothing there—"
"Oh, there's something there." Desmond's smile is cold. "There's history. There’s the fact that it’s another thing of mine that your family took. And most importantly, there's a basement with very thick walls where no one will hear you scream."
Terror claws at my throat. "Desmond, please—"
"Begging now doesn't suit you, Annie." He reaches out and pats my cheek. "Your time for begging was when you were underneath me. Save your breath. You're going to need it."
The van slows, then stops. I hear the driver get out, the sound of a gate creaking open. Then we're moving again, pulling into what must be a driveway.
When we finally stop and the back door opens, I see the house. It's massive, Victorian-style, with peeling paint and boarded-up windows. The grounds are overgrown, and there's an air of abandonment about the whole place.
Perfect for hiding a kidnapping victim. Elio thought Desmond might have been hiding out here. Now, I suppose, Desmond doesn’t need to worry about being found. He wants them to find him. On his terms, of course.
They drag me out of the van and up the front steps. The door sticks, swollen from moisture, but one of Desmond's men kicks it open. Inside, the house is dark and musty, furniture covered in white sheets that make the pieces look like ghosts.
"Bring her downstairs," Desmond orders.
They drag me through the house to a door that opens onto a staircase leading down into darkness. I try to dig my heels in, try to resist, but with my ankles bound, there's nothing I can do. They half-drag, half-carry me down the stairs.
The basement is exactly as terrible as I imagined. Raw stone walls, one bare bulb hanging from the ceiling, and a metal chair bolted to the floor. There are stains on the concrete that I don't want to think about. It smells damp and musty.
They cut the duct tape on my ankles but leave my wrists bound as they push me into the chair. Then they secure me with new ties—wrists to the chair arms, ankles to the legs. I'm trapped.
Desmond crouches down in front of me. "Here's what happens next. I'm going to send a message to your brother and to Elio. I'm going to tell them exactly where you are. And then I'm going to wait for them to come charging in here like the heroes they think they are."
"They're not stupid," I say, trying to sound confident. "They won't just walk into a trap."
"They will for you." His certainty chills me. "Love makes people stupid, Annie. Makes them reckless. Makes them take risks they'd never normally take. And both your brother and your lover love you enough to die for you."
"You won't get away with this."
"I already have." He stands, brushing off his knees. "The moment you stepped into this van, I won. Everything from here on out is just entertainment."
Then he's gone, climbing the stairs, and the door at the top slams shut.
The light stays on, but it's somehow worse than darkness. I can see the stains on the floor, the rust on the pipes running along the ceiling. I can hear squeaking, and I shudder, hoping it’s not mice.
I'm alone in this basement, tied to a chair, pregnant with Elio's child, waiting for Desmond to lure the two men I love most to their deaths.
And it's all my fault.
I test the zip ties, but they're too tight. I try to rock the chair, but it's bolted down. I look around for anything I could use—a sharp edge, a loose pipe, anything—but there's nothing within reach.
I'm trapped.
Completely and utterly trapped.
And somewhere above me, Desmond Connelly is setting his trap, preparing to destroy everyone I love.