Chapter 43
Forty-Three
Charlie
I was finishing up feeding Molly when the sound of yelling echoed through the halls outside of the small room I was being held in.
She had fallen asleep, so I quickly pulled her off my breast and covered myself before propping her on my shoulder and patting her back to burp her when the door flew open.
“I told you—I got the fucking package like you asked,” the guy who had in fact taken us seethed at another man who stood in the doorway staring at us.
While he wasn’t covered in ink like my captor, he was far more intimidating with his pressed suit and designer shoes.
I didn’t know much about whatever world this was, but I remembered Jo saying that there was a tiered structure to her uncle’s organization and that those at the top rarely got their hands dirty because they had guys to do their dirty work for them.
The man’s gaze lingered on me as he stepped inside, each step a calculated one as his focus shifted from me to the baby.
I held her tighter as I kept my attention on him, my heart racing as I prepared myself to either try to run to freedom or fight for it.
Either way, I wasn’t going to win, given the guys he had waiting for him in the hallway.
“You’re Charlie,” he said matter-of-factly as he held his hands in front of him.
I didn’t move or speak as my gaze hardened on his.
He chuckled, the corners of his lips curling up slightly into a smile.
“Your husband owed quite a debt,” he continued when I refused to speak. “A debt that even the largest loans could not cover due to his inability to keep from gambling and increasing said debt. As I’m sure you’re well aware, an agreement was made that his debt would be paid with his unborn child.”
He steepled his fingers in front of his chest as I slowly got up from the floor, keeping my back against the wall as I held Molly tightly against my chest. A mix of anxiety and adrenaline rushed through me, making me feel like a caged animal with no way out.
The room was bare, aside from a small wooden chair on the other side.
The floors were concrete, and the walls were a stark white—likely painted over each time fresh blood splattered them.
It wasn’t a room designed for warmth and comfort.
It was a room intended for pain and torture.
“Easy,” he said, pressing his hands down in front of him. “I’m not here to harm you or your child. I’m here to make an arrangement as you were never part of the original one that was agreed to by your husband.”
“Fuck you and fuck your arrangement,” I spat out, narrowing my eyes at him as hatred swam through my veins. “I don’t give a fuck about Jason or his debt. As far as I’m concerned, that died with him.”
He opened his mouth for a second to speak, but then stopped and turned to look at the man who took me.
“He’s dead?” he asked, his face revealing nothing about the icy tone that had just encompassed his voice.
The guy shoved a hand through his hair and shook his head.
“No. The fucking bitch is lying. She’ll say anything to get out of this.”
I clenched my jaw, knowing that this was my only chance to try to get out of this alive without letting any harm come to Molly or me.
“They sent me a picture of his dead body,” I said, interrupting as I pulled his attention back to me. I avoided the glare that came from the other guy and kept my attention on the one who seemed to be in control. “It’s on my phone. I can show you.”
“Please, be my guest,” he replied with a nod of his head.
I had seen the gun in his waistband when he entered the room, but I didn’t doubt that he had others on him as well. You didn’t live a lifestyle like this and not have full protection at all times.
“My phone is in the diaper bag,” I said, making sure he knew what I was doing before he mistook my actions for a threat and shot me. “Can I get it?”
“I trust that if you have a weapon in there, I will fire mine before you would even get the safety off of yours. So yes, you may retrieve your phone.”
He sighed as if this bored him, so I bent down and quickly pulled my cell phone out, careful to hold Molly so she didn’t fall.
I rushed to unlock it, then pulled up Jason's text messages and opened the one with the images. I handed him my phone, but he didn’t take it.
He simply leaned forward, looked at the photo as his eyes narrowed slightly, then pulled his gun from behind him.
I opened my mouth to speak, but the shot was fired before I could get a word out.