Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
BLAKE
I’m hit with a wave of nausea so powerful that I empty my stomach before even opening my eyes. Realization crashes into me—I was taken. Flashes of those moments before I went under cross my mind. The car, the man in the black mask, the leather seats. It all happened so quickly, I can barely make out the blurred edges in my own mind.
My head throbs as I lift my bound hands to wipe my mouth. With my eyes fully open, I blink to adjust them to the fluorescent lighting above. I’m in some kind of store closet, tossed on the floor with my feet bound by plastic zip ties that bite into my skin.
I don’t know if I should scream or keep quiet. Screaming could bring the wrong person’s attention and that’s the last thing I need. At least I’m alone and can take a few minutes to get my bearings.
I know it’s only a matter of time before the guys find me. So I need to figure out how to stay alive until then.
I scoot toward one of the industrial shelves, holding cleaning supplies and sealed boxes. One of the shelf edges may be sharp enough to cut through the zip ties on my wrists. If I can get my hands free, my feet will be much easier.
With my heart pounding out of my chest and residual dizziness, I do the best I can rubbing the zip ties in a sawing motion against the edge of the metal shelf. I keep glancing over my shoulder, terrified that they’ll be back, but I need to stay strong. I’ve gone through more than enough crap in my life to surrender now.
Sweat beads on my forehead, dripping into my eyes. I wipe it away and check my work. I’ve been at it for minutes by now and nothing. It’s probably a complete waste of my energy, but I can’t just sit here, paralyzed by fear.
Voices sound from outside the door and I freeze, straining to hear what they’re saying. “I’m waiting for the green light from him. He wants to make sure the boyfriend follows.”
Dread squeezes my insides like a clenching fist. They’re baiting Damon and the guys. Shit. I’ve got to get out of here; I can’t let them get hurt.
“Well, that doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun with her first. That one’s got an ass on her like I’ve never seen.”
Oh, no. Their voices are getting closer.
I scoot against the only sliver of open wall, plant my feet and push against it. Once I’m standing, I frantically search the space for something, anything , to help me.
“Bro, I wouldn’t do that if I were you. If he finds out…”
There’s a mop. I could try to hit him with it. Or maybe I can pull some of these boxes down on him.
Think, Blake.
There’s a thump and then raised voices. It sounds like whoever’s out there is fighting. Holding onto the shelves, I make it to the back of the closet and peer into an open box. Yes. A packing tape dispenser.
I grab it, being extra careful to not knock the box over and get to work, flipping it in my palm so the serrated edge lines up with my binding.
Drops of blood smear my fingers, but I barely feel the sting from where the blade nicked me. I’m too focused on getting free. It’s close. When I pull, I can feel a small amount of give in the ties.
“Shit!” The dispenser slips from my fingers and lands a few feet away. I’ll have to get low and crawl.
Sliding down the wall, I freeze as the door swings wide, revealing two towering figures dressed in black. They look as if they’re related. Brothers, maybe. The one on the right looks older with graying hair and harsh lines etched into his face. It’s the one on the left that makes my hair stand on edge. He’s smiling at me with crooked teeth like I’m his next meal.
“Little doll is awake,” the younger brother says. From his tone, I know he’s the same man who grabbed me. He peers down at my bloody hands. “Looks like you started the fun without me.” I’m trembling and trying to control my breathing while the space closes in around me. He bends to pick up the tape dispenser and chuckles. “Bruce, look at this.”
He shoves the bloodied object at his brother. Bruce’s face is immobile—hard as stone. I’m not sure which man frightens me more. He runs his fingertip over my damp blood and brings it to his nose, inhaling deeply, before fixing his expressionless gaze on me.
“You see what I’m saying now?” the younger brother says. “I’ve been watching this one. She’s feisty when she wants to be.”
“Lock the door,” Bruce says as he steps closer. One hand reaches down to undo his belt.
“Please,” I plead. “You don’t want to do this. Please.” Tears stream down my face as I back as far away from them as I can.
“Shh,” the younger one says as he turns for the door. “It’ll be over soon. Be a good little doll.” My vision fades again, but not because of any drug. I’ve been here before, when I’ve needed a place to go, to protect my mind from what was happening to my body. A shadowed recess of my psyche to escape the darkness.
The sound of the lock clicking echoes in my mind. This is it. It’s the moment before the end. I suck in a choked breath, forcing it down into my chest, while the man hovers over me. I could fight—kick and scream. But I know it’ll only make things worse in the end.
The younger brother’s taunts are mixed with the labored grunts of the man above me. Fisting my bound and bloodied wrists, he slams me onto the cold concrete, the impact sending shockwaves of pain through my skull.
“Cut her ties,” he grunts, pawing at my leggings. I squirm, trying to free my arms from his grip.
His phone rings just as his switchblade makes contact with my binding. Please. I’m not the praying type but I’ll pray to any deity for this to be someone that gets them far away from me.
The ringing rumbles off the walls like a fire alarm, and the two men pause their assault to look at each other. “Who is it?” Bruce asks.
He replaces the switchblade with his phone. “Ah, fuck. It’s him.” His voice drops to a hardened tone and his sneer is replaced with a deep frown as he looks down at me. “Hey, boss… Uh, huh… Yeah… No. We’ll bring her.”
Once he hangs up and puts the phone back in his pocket, he has a silent conversation with his brother. Bruce lets my arms drop and stands with flared nostrils and narrowed eyes.
The younger brother’s back to sneering at me. “It’s your lucky day, doll. Well, maybe not… Once you see what he’s going to do with you, you’re gonna wish you were still in here with us.”
I’m alone, strapped to a metal chair, in another storage room filled with boxes. Have I truly been saved from one horror only to endure another? The feeling of foreboding fills me… like each breath I take brings me closer to death.
The squeal of door hinges pulls my attention, and in walks a man so familiar to me, I should feel a sense of relief. But the cold expression in his stare sends a chill down my spine. His right hand rests on the grip of his holstered gun, ready to draw and fire at a moment’s notice.
“Blake… I hope my men have been treating you well. Did you have a nice nap?” His slight Russian accent adds an unsettling facade to his fake politeness.
I steel myself and speak as calmly as I can. “Alexander, this must be a misunderstanding. If you bring me home, I won’t tell anyone what happened. Let’s just talk about this.”
He drags another chair across the concrete floor. The grind of the metal reverberates across the room. “No mistake, Blake. You have two choices. Would you like to hear them?”
I need to keep him talking for as long as I can so I nod, keeping my gaze trained on his cold blue eyes.
“Mind you, these choices are special… I’ve always had something of a soft spot for you, Blake. Losing your mother and brother so close together… What a pity. Then again, sorrow looks good on you.” I don’t realize I’ve looked down until he’s reaching to tip my chin up with the barrel of his gun. “Such sad, beautiful eyes… I could get good money for a girl like you. The men I work for have a taste for the broken ones. But you…” He strokes my cheek with the gun. “You’re not quite there yet, but you will be soon.”
“Please,” I beg. “I-I’ll be with you. Isn’t that what you’ve wanted? I’m sorry I turned you down, it’s just I had a boyfriend and I?—”
A menacing chuckle leaves his lips. “It’s too late for that, doll. Now your choices: you come with me—after I kill your little boyfriends, of course—and you make me a lot of money.”
“Why do you want them? What have they done to you to deserve this? You’re a shipping heir, not some kind of mobster.”
Again, that laugh echoes through the room. “You’re entertaining, Blake. I’ve needed a laugh since I put a bullet between that old woman’s eyes.”
Mrs. Langston. Oh, God.
“Since we’re having a nice chat, I’ll tell you. Your boyfriends killed my best men, had the nerve to come into my club unannounced and shoot them dead. My cousin, Peter, was among them. I cannot let that go.”
Pieces of the puzzle form in my mind. The night Jasper got shot, they were here… or wherever it happened. It was Alexander and his men. Do they think he’s the one that kidnapped Bailey? I never would have imagined that, not in a million years, but now everything I thought I knew is caving in on itself.
“I’m sorry for your loss, but please, more death isn’t the answer.” If I can plead with him, maybe get him to see reason, there could be a chance, however small.
“Ready for choice number two? Choice one, if you remember, is coming with me. Choice two is I kill you while your boyfriends watch.” He sighs and pulls a hand through his closely cut blond hair. “Now that would be a real shame. Like I said, you’ll make me good money. Maybe I’m tired. I don’t have it in me to fight you the whole way, so you must come willingly. What will it be, Blake?”
He averts his gaze for a moment as his phone vibrates. I watch his expression as he reads. Whatever message he received changes his face from an annoyed grimace to a gleeful smile.
“Hold that thought. We’re about to have an audience.” He stands, gripping his gun tightly. My pulse roars in my ears. I have no idea who will walk through that door, but I can’t bear it if Damon or the guys get hurt or worse.
The door swings open and Brennan takes in the room—me tied to a chair with blood smeared up my arms, his best friend holding a gun at the ready. It hits me in that moment. We’re at one of MechExpresses warehouses.
“Alex, why the fuck is my sister tied to a chair?” Brennan approaches slowly, his hands out in front of him.
“Unfortunately, good buddy, she got herself caught up in a mess. That’s what happens to whores who fuck criminals. Think of it as a two for one deal. I get to piss you and her boyfriends off in one go.”
Brennan’s eyes are wide as he looks me over. “Bee, are you okay?”
I nod, and let loose a sob from somewhere in my chest. Brennan must be as shocked as I am… This has been his best friend for the last ten years. The man who got him the job that changed his life. Introduced him to his long-term girlfriend. I can’t imagine the pain he must be feeling. Why would Alex do this to us?
“Let’s go in the other room and talk. I’m sure we can come to an agreement,” Brennan says, his voice steady and hands held open in an appeasing gesture.
“Too late for that. The boyfriends are on their way. Lukas just spotted them on the cameras.” He turns to me. “You should pick smarter criminals, Blake. Someone more like your brother.”
“Alex,” Brennan warns. “Come on, let’s be reasonable.”
Criminal? What is he talking about?
“Brennan?” I ask, barely able to look at him.
Alex laughs, pacing the length of the room. “She has no idea, does she? Oh, this is gold. Thank you, Brennan, for the entertainment of the night.” Alexander sits across from me again, as giddy as a kid at a party. “You think Brennan is going to save you? What’s that nickname he calls you again?” He scratches his chin. “Little Bee. That’s it. Little Bee, would you like to know what your big brother does for a living?”
Brennan steps closer until Alex pulls out his gun and aims it at his head. “What will Ivan think? Come on, this doesn’t have to go down right now,” Brennan pleads.
Alex ignores him, bringing his attention back to me. “Big brother trafficks women and children. Don’t you, Brennan? Go on, tell Little Bee how you drug them. How you take them from their homes or find them on the streets. Sometimes, he gets extra bonuses for the fresh ones… pretty college girls or teens walking home from school. So young and pure. You have no idea how much money people pay for a piece of them.”
“That’s enough!” Brennan yells. “Stop being a dick and tell me what you want so we can all go home.”
“You already used up your favors for Mischa the Whore. She almost gave us away, spreading her legs for anyone with a pulse. Now don’t make me tie you up too.”
Brennan steps closer while Alexander pulls out his vibrating phone. I shift my gaze to the floor, my stomach churning from what I just learned. He’s not my brother, he’s a monster.
“Bee, look at me,” he whispers while Alex argues over the phone in Russian. “I’m going to get you out of here, you have to trust me.”
“Get me out of here and then we’re done. I never want to see you again,” I seethe.
He closes his eyes for a moment before dipping his chin. “I’ll explain everything, but we need to move while he’s distracted.”
Brennan works on the rope they used to bind me to the chair while I keep my eyes on Alexander, who looks more and more irritated by the second. “Hurry,” I say.
“I almost have it.” The rope pulls taut against my torso as he works on the knots and I try to control my breathing. “There.”
“The zip ties on my feet,” I whisper. “I won’t be able to run.”
“Fuck, okay, I think there’s a utility knife somewhere. Can you try to walk?” My head spins as he hauls me to a stand.
“I can try.”
The chair squeaks when I bump it with my arm and Alexander’s eyes snap toward the sound, his hand drawing his gun in one quick motion. “Shit, Bee, follow my moves.”
He puts his hands up in surrender and I do the same, my bound wrists limiting my movements. My vision blurs at the edges as time around me slows.
“What do you think you’re doing? You think because you’re Sweeper, you’re above me? Above my uncle’s own flesh and blood? You’re wrong.”
I’ll never forget the look on his face as he pulls the trigger. His wide, bloodshot eyes. The spittle at the corner of his lips. The veins protruding from his neck.
He aims directly at me and in the flash of a second he fires, the room exploding in sound.
My ears ring and I blink, finally seeing straight. Brennan’s crumpled on the floor, blood pooling onto his shirt.
“Brennan!” I scream, a guttural sound from deep in my chest. “Oh God, Brennan, no!” I sink to my knees, cradling his head as rasped breaths escape his lips. “It’s okay, I’ve got you. Hang on.”
With my bound wrists, I do the best I can to keep pressure on the wound. “Bee,” he says through labored breaths. “Go. Get out.”
“I’m not going to leave you here to die.” I look up through a veil of tears and realize Alex is gone. Then I hear it—all hell breaking loose right outside the door. Rapid gunfire mixed with furious shouting. It has to be Damon. He’s found me. “Brennan, Damon’s here. We’re going to be okay.”
I look into his unmoving eyes and cry his name. No, no, no. Oh, God, he’s not breathing. “Come on. You can’t die on me. You’re all I have left.”
I pump his bloody chest with shaking hands, frantically trying anything in my power to get him breathing again. “I need you… Please, Brennan. This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.”
A strong pair of arms wrap around me, pulling me back from Brennan’s body. I scream through sobs, thrashing my arms to break free. “No! I can’t leave him!”
“Blake, it’s me. I’ve got you. You’re safe.” The voice sounds muffled, like it’s coming from broken speakers. “Come here.” Gentle hands lift me, and the cold floor is replaced with a warm chest. We move, but my eyes stay pinned on Brennan’s motionless body as we’re torn apart forever.