53. Smitten Kitten
smitten kitten
. . .
Sadie
Sadie’s Guide to Hostage-Taking Being Taken Hostage Forming a Partnership with Your Hostage Embracing the Hostage Lifestyle Not Freaking Out Escaping Being Taken Hostage (Again), Tip #32: There are no convenient times to realize you’ve fallen for your hostage. Even so, during a hostage-negotiation call might be one of the worst.
No one ever warned me hostage-negotiation calls could be such a turn-on.
It made me wish my wrists were untied, because I really needed to fan myself.
Zain and Fessy were both still gaping at the laptop screen—where Davian had just finished threatening their lives and staking a claim on me that left me reeling.
There was a loaded pause as Davian’s words sank in, and I felt compelled to break the silence.
I just had no idea how to play this. It wasn’t every day a mafia boss called me his .
“Caveman much?” I laughed nervously before clearing my throat. “Such an unattractive quality.”
That was a lie.
I actually didn’t mind Davian staking a claim on me. Not at all.
In fact, I think I liked it a lot—as did the horny demon.
No one would make a big declaration like that for a mistress or a sidepiece.
Davian had just promised to make a man’s death unimaginably painful if he so much as laid a finger on me .
With how my body was reacting to that promise as I squirmed in the seat I’d been tied to, it really wasn’t a good time to be pantyless.
He’d declared just how much he wanted me instead of a strong mafia princess.
And I couldn’t lie—I was smitten with him, too.
…How inconvenient was that ?
I shook my head to clear it, determined to focus on my current hostage predicament instead of the man who made my chest feel as warm as a batch of freshly baked cupcakes.
Zain and Fessy both ignored me, but the older Ali brother stopped gaping at the laptop long enough to pace across the room. He mumbled a string of curses under his breath that any sailor would be proud of and ran a flustered hand through his hair.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Zain chanted, striding past me to the other side of the room. Gone was any hint of confidence. “What the hell are we supposed to do now?”
Fessy’s gaze finally left the screen, following his brother. “I thought you had a plan.”
“You heard that asshole. He’s going to kill me, Fes!” Zain strode past me again, both hands raking through his hair now. “Do you think that was part of my plan?”
I snorted softly. So much for all their “nobody messes with our family” talk earlier.
“And so much for promises,” I grumbled, frowning at Zain’s back. He’d sure been quick to use my nipples as a bargaining chip. “I don’t know why I ever expected you to have integrity, but I am very disappointed you went back on your word.”
“Shut up,” he snapped, not even sparing me a glance.
Fessy’s crutch clicked against the floor as he limped closer. “Bro, you did promise her.”
“I know what I said! Screw you both. You have no idea how stressful this is.” He picked up his pace, shooting daggers at Fessy. “You two think you could’ve done better?”
I sniffed delicately before mumbling, “Well, I wouldn’t have gone against my word.”
“I wasn’t going to cut off your nipples, you mouthy bitch! It’s called bluffing .”
In the blink of an eye, Zain slammed the laptop shut and launched it across the room, making me and Fessy both duck. It flew straight into the lamp—shattering glass across the floor as I cowered.
For a long moment, the only sound in the room was Zain’s panting breaths.
Until he turned his attention to me and bared his teeth.
“You,” he growled, striding closer. “This is all your fault.”
“Me?” I squeaked. Now that was just crazy talk. “Hey, I didn’t kidnap myself, buddy.”
But Zain was too busy snarling and grabbing a handful of my hair to see reason.
“Bro, wait!” Fessy limped over to us just as Zain yanked my head back. “We can’t touch her.”
Zain let out a low chuckle that raised the hair on the back of my neck.
This wasn’t good.
“You heard Reed. I’m a dead man anyway.” His grip on my hair tightened, quickly going from uncomfortable to a searing pain that made me cry out. He sneered down his nose at me. “Might as well mess up his girl first.”
Fessy leaned closer, lowering his voice. “We can still get out of this. Let’s just leave now. Get a head start.”
“It’s Reed. There are no head starts. He’ll find us.”
“Then let’s give her back and hope he lets us go.”
“It’s too late for that,” Zain muttered with a shake of his head. Mercifully, he released my hair to resume his pacing. But then my scalp stung, and I couldn’t even rub it to make it feel better. Being tied up sucked. “He knows where we are somehow. Our only chance is to stay here and make a stand.”
The color drained from Fessy’s face. “…Make a stand?”
“Reed just showed us his cards, but we still have one ace left to play. As long as we have his ho, he can’t touch us.”
It took me a moment to realize he was referring to me , and I blinked. I’d never been called someone’s ho before.
Not really a fan.
And I didn’t really like where this was headed, so it felt like a good time to throw in my two cents. “ Or , you could let me go? It would be a sign of good faith to Davian. I can ask him to leave you both alone.”
Zain pulled to a stop, staring at me. “How stupid are you? You can’t just ask Reed to do something.”
“Sure I can.” I lifted my chin. “I asked him to help me get Bear back when Fessy stole him, and he did.”
To be fair, I’d held Davian at gunpoint to make him comply, but these boys didn’t need to know that little detail.
“We don’t have time for games. I need to get everyone armed and ready.” Zain strode to the door, flicking his hand at the shattered glass littering the floor as an afterthought. “Find a broom and clean that up, Fes. We don’t need her getting cut and Reed blaming it on us.”
Fessy grumbled under his breath, and his brother paused after opening the door.
“Where the hell did Nasir go?” Zain looked up and down the hallway, frowning. He rattled off another stream of curses before slamming the door shut behind him.
Fessy gave me a dark look before leaving, too—I assumed to go get a broom. Though looking at the state of this room, I doubted they even kept one in the house.
I spent the time he was gone to try loosening the knots holding me captive, itching to get free.
But ten minutes later, Fessy limped back into the room with a dustpan and broom in tow, while I’d made zero progress on the bindings. He balanced on one crutch, using his other hand to half-heartedly sweep the broom.
The glass slid from side to side across the floor, but nowhere near the dustpan he’d set down.
Now that it was just Fessy and me in the room, I grew hopeful as he did a poor job of sweeping. He might’ve stolen Bear and spray-painted penises on the shelter walls, but at least he hadn’t cut my shirt or knocked me out like Zain had.
There was a chance he’d listen to reason.
“Fessy, could you please loosen these ropes a little?” I asked, stretching my fingers to get more blood flow to them. The only thing these guys seemed afraid of was Davian, and maybe I could use that to my advantage. It was worth a shot. “They’re cutting into my skin, and I don’t think Davian will like that very much.”
He ignored me and kept sweeping.
I sighed. “Look. I’m trying to help you guys. Like you said, Davian shot you over a distasteful comment you made about me. Imagine what he’ll do if he shows up and sees markings on my wrists.”
Fessy finally looked up, his lips twisted into a scowl. “Distasteful? I said I’d bone you. That’s a compliment.”
It was my turn to stare.
“ Regardless, ” I said, ignoring his comment. At least I had his attention now. “If Davian sees I’m comfortable and you treated me well, it could work in your favor. I’ll even put in a good word for you and Zain.”
He only snorted and went back to sweeping. “You heard that call. Nothing you say to Reed can save us now.”
“That’s not true. Davian is reasonable.” I tried to think of ways to reassure him, and luckily, I remembered Lorenzo. “I’m sure he would at least lock you in a shed for a few days before doing anything drastic. That would give me time to remind him how well you treated me and that you’re sorry.”
Fessy’s face twisted in horror. “Lock me in a shed? What the hell?”
Oh. Right. That wasn’t exactly normal.
“Yeah, okay. I can see where that might not be very reassuring.” I racked my brain for something else. “But I would bring you cupcakes? Homemade ones.”
Shaking his head, he returned his focus to his poor excuse for sweeping. My eye twitched as I watched him. None of the broken glass had made it into the dustpan yet. He was just pushing it around while he tried to keep his balance.
Unable to help myself, I offered a little advice. “I’m sorry, and I promise I’m not criticizing your technique, but it really would be easier if you sweep everything in one direction into a pile. Then all you need to do is transfer the pile to the dustpan.”
Instead of being grateful, Fessy went still as a statue—until his nostrils flared as if I’d just called his mother a harlot.
Sensing danger ahead , I shut my mouth.
Fessy’s shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath, then he resumed sweeping as if I hadn’t said anything.
He also ignored my advice about sweeping into a pile.
Shards of glass skittered across the floor with each lazy sweep of his broom—which only seemed to annoy Fessy more. He growled before bending awkwardly and sweeping with his hand.
That was a horrible idea.
He hissed sharply, and I sucked in a breath as blood dripped from his hand. “Are you okay?”
Fessy stood, shaking his hand. “It’s just a cut.”
My head spun at the sight of blood, and I fought down a wave of nausea. “This room is a hotbed for infections. I’d get that washed and dressed as soon as you can. Wouldn’t want to lose your finger over a broken lamp?—”
He threw the broom down, making me flinch. “Do you ever shut up?”
I flexed my wrists against the tight bindings before muttering, “I’m just trying to help.”
He looked between his bleeding hand and the shattered glass. “You want to help? Then get off your ass and clean this up yourself.”
I watched in growing disbelief as Fessy grabbed a large shard of glass off the floor before hobbling over to me. He used the jagged piece to cut through each of my bindings—and just like that, I was free .
I was still processing it when Fessy held the pointy piece of glass up to my face. “But don’t get any ideas. Reed or no Reed, I’ll stab you if you even think of trying anything.”
I swallowed and rubbed my newly freed wrists. “Understood.”
The first thing I did after getting to my feet was hold my ruined shirt together to cover all the cleavage on display—not that it helped much—before picking up the broom.
I swept carefully at the slowest pace I thought I could get away with, giving myself time to brainstorm what to do. Using another shard of glass to stab Fessy was out of the question—I didn’t have the stomach for that. Plus, he’d already suffered enough from getting shot.
But thanks to the limp slowing him down, there was a chance I could beat him to the door and escape.
Or it’d be even easier if he left me alone in here.
I glanced at Fessy, who was pressing his bloody hand against the bandage on his thigh.
I jumped on the opening. “You really should get that cut cleaned. Infections aren’t something to take lightly.”
“Whatever,” he mumbled. But a second later, he looked at the door and made a face. “Just sweep all this up by the time I get back. And don’t get cut on that glass.”
“You got it,” I assured him, even though I had no intention of following his orders.
Keeping the glass shard pointed my way, he hobbled out the door on one crutch.
The moment the door swung shut behind him, I ran up and grabbed the handle—right as Fessy clicked a lock into place from the other side.
I gasped and jiggled the doorknob, but it didn’t budge.
I couldn’t believe it. Why did all these mafia bedroom doors lock from the outside ? That had to be against a dozen fire-safety regulations.
Circling the perimeter of the room didn’t help. The windows were boarded up, and the door was solid when I tested ramming my shoulder into it. No amount of twisting or pulling on the doorknob budged it, and I huffed.
I was stuck. The realization made me look back at the chair in the middle of the room.
Davian had told me to sit tight because he was coming for me.
… But screw that.
I stood just off to the side of the door as a plan began to form. Swinging the broom up so its bristles were above my shoulder, I adjusted my grip on the handle to hold it like a weapon. A steadying breath was the only thing that kept my heart rate from taking off like a scared rabbit’s as I waited for my opening.
Vince had called me a weakness. A distraction . He said I’d never survive in their world.
I couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when I proved him wrong.