36. Aurora
Chapter 36
Aurora
I groan, squinting my eyes as I try to open them and get my bearings. My head is pounding, and it’s not until I inhale deeply, the unfamiliar stench of chemicals assailing my nostrils, that I remember the guy and the van. Oh God, and the note . Was it all a ploy to kidnap me? Romeo was never in trouble?
Blinking, I try to clear away the fuzziness clouding my vision and mind. How did this happen? Nobody would have known we were in that particular store, let alone that I was going to be leaving through the emergency exit. My eyes widen, and I bite down into the flesh of my lower lip.
Was Angelo behind this?
He didn’t know we were going to that particular store until I dragged him inside. But that doesn’t mean he couldn’t have told someone . Unlike me, he has ways of communicating with people. Maybe he figured I would make my escape out of the fire exit and gave them a heads up. If he was aware of the note, then it would have been an obvious exit.
Rubbing my eyes, I exhale through the pain that seems to be coming from every muscle in my body. Right now, I need to focus on finding a way out, not on how I got here. Tentatively, I sit up on the cot before collapsing back when the room tilts. Nausea engulfs me and I blow out a steady stream of air in a bid to ease it.
Okay, that’s not going to work.
Turning my head on the lumpy, polyester-filled pillow, I scan the room. There’s not much in here. Four gray cinder block windowless walls surround me, with a closed rusty metal door in the center of one. A silver, rust-stained bucket sits in the far corner with half a roll of toilet paper haphazardly thrown on the floor next to it. There’s a heaviness weaving its way into the pit of my stomach.
I knew this wasn’t my world, and yet I thought I could handle it. How could I have been so stupid? I should have told Romeo the second I read that note. He could have sent someone else, someone more equipped to handle whatever this is.
He won’t come for me .
Rubbing at the dull ache in my chest, I blink away the tears and exhale a shaky breath. What if he thinks I’ve run away? I don’t want to die here.
The sound of the door unlocking echoes around the room. I need to buy myself some more time to figure out who these people are. Praying that there isn’t a camera in the room and cursing myself for not having checked, I close my eyes and feign unconsciousness. A stiffness seeps into my body and the position feels unnatural and forced.
On the other side of the door, I can hear unintelligible and urgent chatter before it opens and their voices become crystal clear. They don’t seem fazed by my presence, comfortable to continue their conversation as they walk into the room. I listen intently, trying to place their accents.
“She wasn’t supposed to get hurt. He said to bring her in, in one piece,” one of them admonishes.
“She is in one piece, and anyway, I’d hardly call a knock on the head ‘getting hurt’. She’s got worse coming to her later, so what does it matter?”
Oh God.
I bite my tongue to keep my whimper at bay, swallowing it down with the bile that rises at their words.
If I had to guess, I’d say they’re from somewhere in Eastern Europe, but I couldn't say where. I hold my breath, fighting to keep the despair at bay. I don’t have a clue who Romeo’s enemies are. It’s not like he shared that kind of information with me and now I’m here with no idea what they might want from me. I doubt they’ll be as forgiving as Romeo, and when they realize I can’t help them with the information they want, they’ll kill me.
Panic rises in my throat, threatening to choke me, but I keep my breathing steady and continue to listen.
A dull thud sounds, skin hitting something padded and then feet shuffling on a dusty floor before the second one exclaims, “Hey, what was that for?”
The first guy speaks. He sounds older and annoyed. “She clearly was hurt, durak , or she would be awake by now. The Italian was clear; we need her to lure Bianchi out and she can’t do that if she’s dead.” He pauses before there’s more shuffling. “I won’t hesitate to lay the blame solely at your feet if she doesn’t wake up and he demands answers.” The threat in his tone is clear.
There’s a heavy silence before they leave, the door banging shut behind them. It’s only when the sound of their footsteps disappear that I allow myself to relax.
I replay their conversation, analyzing every sentence. They want to lure Romeo here and use me as bait. There was never any chance of me finding out what they wanted and returning to him. This was their plan all along.
They’re going to kill Romeo.
And it’ll be all my fault. I smack a hand over my mouth, smothering the sob ripped from my lips. If I’d just shown him the note, none of this would be happening. Squeezing my eyes shut, I picture Romeo at breakfast this morning and the smile I put on his face before lying to him. Was that our last kiss? I don’t think I could bear to never see him again, to feel his presence near me or have a part of him touching me. Sliding my fingers into my hair, I massage my scalp to ease the throbbing from hitting my head.
I feel so helpless .
There’s no getting through this because I can’t take another heartache. A single tear falls from the corner of my eye and runs down into my hairline. I don’t bother to catch it. Instead, I turn onto my side and wrap my arms around my waist in a vain attempt to hold myself together. I can’t fall apart now, not when he needs me to stay strong and fix this mess.
Think, Aurora .
What else did they say?
Something about an Italian. It’s possible that it’s Angelo, but even with his grumpy demeanor, I don’t think it is. Besides, when they realize I’ve gone, he’ll be in so much trouble.
If he hasn’t run away because he’s involved .
Dismissing the thought, I wrack my brain. Could there be someone else from Massimo’s house who is helping these guys? I don’t know any men aside from Massimo, Romeo, Daniele and Leonardo. Can I rule them out?
What about… No, it can’t be. Romeo said the guy from the library—Aldo, I think it was—has worked for Massimo’s family for years.
This is pointless .
I don’t know anything about the people in that house, not really. What I need is a plan; a way to warn Romeo of what they intend to do, and at the very least, a way to get out of here, preferably alive. I sit up, leaning back against the wall and resting my head until the room stops spinning. The swell of nausea is still there but is manageable.
It feels like a lifetime ago that I was working as an emergency dispatcher, but those years of answering calls have to be of some use now. What would I tell someone to do if they called 911? Stay hidden . We’re a bit past that. Be compliant and take in as much of your surroundings as possible . Great advice when you have the emergency services on the other end of the phone and know that help is on its way.
I could try and fight them.
And they’d probably snap my neck quicker than I could land a punch. In any case, there are two of them and only one of me. Or at least two that I know about.
My gaze jumps around the room, desperately seeking anything I can turn into a weapon. There’s no way I can break a piece of the bed off. I could use the sheet to suffocate one of them. But that’s reliant on there only being one of them and the likelihood is they’ll overpower me anyway. Maybe I can tie the sheet to the bucket. It would give me the distance to at least get a couple of blows in.
Who am I kidding?
In every scenario I can think of, I end up dead. Which is what I’ve been begging for Romeo to do all this time.
Except now, that wish to die couldn’t be further from the truth.