6. Victoria
6
VICTORIA
I have no idea what time it is, but I’m guessing it hasn’t been more than a couple hours. To be honest, my head is pounding and it feels like my brain is made of jelly. It made it hard to do anything but follow Liam’s directions as he pushed and shoved at me to get back in the car.
The drive was short, ending in a rundown residential neighborhood. He pulled into a narrow driveway next to a house with cracked white siding and a lawn filled with foot-tall weeds. The place looked like it had been abandoned for months. The outside needs a heap of work, but the inside is worse.
When Liam knocked on the door, the guy who answered greeted my ex like an old friend. They bro-hugged it out, and we were invited inside, but not before the guy gave me a long once-over that set off every one of my alarm bells.
The place smells like garbage and rotten food. It would take a whole crew to clean up the crushed beer cans, empty liquor bottles, randomly thrown pieces of clothing, and stained walls.
But that’s the least of my problems.
Liam is holding me in his lap like his personal bitch while his friend watches me. I mean, I know my face is swollen from the beating I took earlier, even if the color may not be obvious yet. But he’s not looking at me with sympathy or concern, no he’s eyeing me like I’m his next meal. The dude is creepy beyond words. He has his long blond hair pulled up in a messy bun, with faded brown eyes in a pasty, hungry face. The tattered black jeans and oversized white tee shirt do nothing to normalize his freakish look. He has a silver barbel through one eyebrow, which only highlights his eerily light eyes.
I can’t believe Liam hasn’t said anything about this dude staring at me non-stop. Especially considering his emo serial killer aura.
“I gotta take this,” Liam says when his phone rings, nudging my leg. I rise and allow him to stand. “You got that doctor comin’?”
“Yeah, man,” Emo Dude drawls. “How’d you get shot again?”
I roll my eyes and cross my arms as my ex glares at our host.
“I told you, dude,” Liam grumbles. “Drug deal gone wrong.”
His buddy looks skeptical, raising his pierced brow. “At a private school?”
Liam scoffs as the ghost of a smile pulls at my lips. Sounds unbelievable, right? “You think I could get good shit at a place like that? Nah, man, I get my shit in the hood.”
Hood?
Never thought I’d hear Liam say that word. It’d be a pretty safe bet that he’s never even been within a ten-mile radius of what would be considered the “rough” side of town. I had to push and prod him to just go to a diner with me when we first started dating. In fact, I don’t think he’s ever been to a place like this…flop house…before.
“Right,” his buddy replies flatly. He doesn’t sound totally convinced, but it’s clear he can’t think of another story to explain Liam’s wound. “Well, the guy’s comin’ with his kit.”
“What do you mean guy ?” Liam sneers, ungrateful to the extreme. “I said doctor .”
“And where the hell am I supposed to grab one of those? You think I got a rich prick like you hangin’ out, ready to dig that bullet out of you?”
Liam shifts his weight. He knows he doesn’t have many options.
He can either go to a hospital—where I’ll scream to anyone who’ll listen that he’s kidnapped me—or he can go along with whatever guy his friend has called.
I hope he doesn’t have any painkillers or numbing medicine. I want Liam to feel everything, the universe paying him back in pain for his bright idea of kidnapping me.
“Maybe we should head to the ER, Liam,” I suggest for the second time since he’s gotten shot—by me. I’m not worried about him, but I’ll say anything to increase the odds of me getting the help I need to escape. “The last thing you want is an infection or?—”
“ Shut up ,” he snaps, sending a glower my way. “You’re the reason—” I cock my head and try not to smirk.
Liam catches himself, clenching his jaw and leaving the sentence unfinished.
Meanwhile, Liam’s buddy nods toward him as the phone begins to ring again. “You gonna take that call or…”
“Behave yourself, Vee,” Liam orders, his jaw ticking. In other words, don’t say anything about what really happened or why we’re here .
He saunters toward the front of the small house, dodging the piles of trash and debris.
“What’s a girl like you doin’ with a guy like him?”
I’m not going to answer stupid questions. “What does that mean?”
He shrugs. “Liam doesn’t date.”
“Really?” I hedge, trying to appear calm, relaxed even. “Because I dated him for too long.”
The dude laughs a bit and leans back in his chair, inspecting me further while he stretches out his long legs, almost touching me in the process. “That bad, huh?”
“Do I look like I want to be here?”
He averts his light brown eyes, and I’m relieved at the break from his attention. “This ain’t a palace, but we’re fun people.”
“I like to stay in.”
“Bummer,” he drawls, slicing that spine-chilling gaze back to me. “I got something goin’ in the backyard tonight. Was thinking of invitin’ you two.”
I definitely don’t want to stay, but Liam probably will. I don’t want to deal with him or any other party guests who might get handsy. And I have no idea how long his call might take…
My face scrunches with false regret and I wave my hand through the air. “Oh, we can’t stay. Liam is taking me to some magic card show.”
His face skews in confusion. “What?”
I look heavenward and shake my head, painting a picture that won’t just give us an excuse to leave before the party, but will hopefully dent the cool image Liam’s trying to project. “Yeah, it’s kind of interesting, I guess. He gets high and does these weird card tricks. He wanted me to call him Harry Potter one time?—”
“The dude goes to magic shows?”
I lift a brow. “He hasn’t tried to pull a coin from your boxers yet?” The guy squints at me. Admittedly, I took it a little too far to be believable with that. “Do you have a bathroom?”
The dude jerks his head over his shoulder. “Down the hall. First door to the right.”
I practically jump from my chair and follow his instructions. I memorized the house number when we walked up, but I didn’t get the street name.
Hopefully the phone I borrowed—stole—from Liam’s victim has enough battery for me to grab my location and send it to Ellie. It only had twenty percent when I texted her from the hotel earlier, but I’ve kept it off.
Stepping into the truly disgusting bathroom, I do my best not to touch anything. The counter is cluttered with random products, some of them open and oozing, but it’s the used needle carelessly tossed to the side of the faucet that sends a shiver down my spine.
And they do hard drugs here. Fucking fantastic.
I need Liam to take us back to the hotel. There’s zero chance he’ll protect me from a bunch of horny dudes high on who-knows-what, especially not after I shot him. I’m far from safe with Liam, but I’m better off with just him rather than staying here.
Sitting on the edge of the stained tub, I fish the cell phone out of my bra and power it on. It feels as though it takes forever for it to load but when it does I pull up the GPS app, find my location, and send it to Ellie.
There’s a text from her in the message chain.
Not sure if you’ll see this, but be careful. I’m worried. Told Dante and gave him your number. He’s on the way.
I exit out of the thread. She’ll know what to do with my location data. I scan the rest of the conversations in the man’s phone. I can see previews of several messages asking where the man is. I bite my lower lip, trying not to cry. It’s my fault ? —
As I scroll, I find a text from a number that isn’t saved as a contact.
I’m coming, wife.
A heavy knock lands on the door, shaking it in its frame, and I jump as I hide the phone at my side.
“Hurry the fuck up, Vee,” Liam barks out. “We need to talk.”
A mix of emotions is churning in my gut. Rage, fear, hope… I don’t know what to do with them and my hands shake as I return the phone to my bra. I wish I had had a little longer to myself, even just a moment to bask in the fact that Dante texted me. That he’s coming for me.
Resisting the urge to growl or stomp my feet, I quickly flush the toilet before running the water and wetting my hands. I bite back a moan of dismay as I see that my cheek is a riot of blotchy reds and deep purples. No black eye—yet—but there’s no hiding the beating I took earlier.
When I open the door, I’m met with Liam’s glare.
“What?” I ask, acting innocent, but I’m afraid hope is written all over my face. “I had to pee.”
“You’re fucking around,” he accuses. “What are you doing?”
I’m not sure what he wants me to say. I’m not about to admit the truth, and a ridiculous lie is my only chance. “Sending a smoke signal to the cops?”
He steps forward and bumps into my body, pushing me backward as he takes another step, closing us both inside the bathroom.
“What are you doing, Liam?” I ask, my voice dropping to a demanding whisper. “That dude is going to think something’s wrong!”
“Why would you say that?”
“If we’re supposed to be together, why are we having secret conversations in the bathroom?”
He shrugs his shoulders dismissively. “Maybe I wanted a quickie before I got this bullet you put in my shoulder dug out by some wanna-be doctor.”
“Funny how that story changed.”
Liam shoves me, almost making me trip into the tub, but I don’t regret my sass as he winces. He’s weak, as weak as he pretends not to be, and he’ll never be any different. Yet, here I am, his hostage while he traipses across the country.
“I should give you one to match,” Liam threatens. “But I’m not about to have to deal with all the blood.”
Right.
Let’s keep it that way.
“When are we leaving?” I look at the door behind him, imagining the disastrous kitchen it opens up to.
“Ready for some couple time, just the two of us?” Liam taunts. He rolls his eyes before adding, “This asshole is helping me get your passport together. But maybe he shouldn’t bother, since you shot me.”
“Stop fucking with me, Liam,” I snap back. “Let’s just get back and—” Liam shoves his phone at me.
“Check your bank account. I want to see if the money’s there.”
My jaw locks as another dose of adrenaline dumps into my bloodstream. If the money’s there, I’m out of time.
I know it.
I log in slowly, trying to buy myself a few extra seconds to think of my next move. Should I even be cooperating right now? Why can’t I think of anything? Oh, right…
When the account page loads, I’m relieved to see that the balance hasn’t changed.
No deposits.
“Nothing,” I say, but Liam doesn’t believe me, plucking the phone from my hand to take a look for himself.
“Fuck,” he mutters, returning the device to the pocket of his jeans and scowling. “You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?”
I could say the same, but where would that get me?
“Can we leave when you’re done?”
Liam smirks. “Why the rush?”
“This place looks like it hasn’t been cleaned in a year,” I explain, suppressing a shudder. “We’re both going to need tetanus shots and a gallon of bleach to wash ourselves off. Let’s go, Liam. Anywhere but here,” I cajole. The last thing I want is to be alone with him, but it’s better than being surrounded by more slimy strangers. “Do you really want to catch lice or something?”
His face twists. “Oh, the drama, the humiliation.” He rolls his eyes. “I didn’t realize you were such a materialistic bitch.”
I ball my hands into fists instinctively, but deliberately relax them. He can think whatever he wants. It doesn’t matter. “The private college and Lexus didn’t give it away?”
He smirks before glancing down at the watch on his wrist. “I need to make good with this guy.”
“Why? Forget the passport?—”
“I might need the passport if your money doesn’t drop in the next forty-eight hours.”
What happens in forty-eight hours?
“Do you turn into a pumpkin or something if you’re not back in time?” I ask, trying to hide my desperation under a layer of teasing.
“No, but it’ll ruin my plans.”
What plans?
I could strangle him for being so vague when normally he’s an open, boastful book.
So, I take a stab in the dark.
“You’re gonna hate Canada. The winters are harsh and?—”
“Shut up, Vee,” Liam chides with narrowed eyes. “You’re not gonna make me change my mind. I don’t want to be in the States when Angelo realizes I’m not giving him the money we promised him. So the sooner we get you out of here…” He shrugs, as if I can fill in the rest.
He’s not wrong. I can all too easily picture Angelo’s response when he realizes Liam screwed him over. I don’t want to be anywhere close to his reach then.
“Liam!” the emo dude from outside hollers out. “Stop feelin’ up your girl and get out here! The doc’s in.”
My ex scowls at whatever he believes is out there waiting for him, and I can’t help but be pleased. It’s what he gets for doing all this in the first place, his first bit of karma for how he’s decided to deal with the mess he inherited from his father. “I should kill you for shooting me.”
“Let’s just hope they don’t hit an artery or something, right?”
Liam shoves me with his good arm again and growls, “I’ll remember that.”
“So will I,” I return, holding his stare for more than a few moments. I won’t sit back and cooperate blindly, won’t allow Liam to cart me around the world without a fight. He may think I’m his trump card, but I’m a time bomb, just waiting for the right moment to make my move.
Getting me across the border—quietly—is going to be the hardest thing he’s ever had to do.
Unless my money fucks me over.
No one has ever wished this hard not to receive a multi-million-dollar deposit.
“C’mon,” Liam orders, opening the door. “Let’s get this over with.”
Yeah, let’s.
I’m ready for action. Ready to get away from this asshole and his black, greedy heart.