37. Elizabeth
The thing no one tells you about being kidnapped is that it’s shockingly boring.
After the dinner where Stas basically announced everyone better start looking for a new mob boss to serve, they’ve kept us separated. When I’m not locked in my room, I’m at the dining table with four giant men who watch me like a hawk.
You’d think at least one of them would have a soft spot for me, but no. It’s very annoying.
The other thing I’ve learned about being kidnapped is that it really messes with your sleep schedule. I wake up in a panic multiple times each night. So when I find myself wide awake in what has to be the wee hours of the morning, I’m not really surprised.
The noise that thunders through the house moments after I open my eyes does surprise me, though. I bolt upright and switch on the lamp, my heart beating hard. There are shouts, followed by the sound of gunfire.
Hearing it all from behind a locked door is both terrifying and surreal.
It reminds me of an art installation I went to that imagines what the history of the world sounds like from the perspective of a forest. The sudden onslaught of machine warfare made everyone jump, and several people began to cry.
Just like then, I sit, goosebumps running along my arms, feeling simultaneously helpless and disgusted and safe.
I need to use my current safety to my advantage. I need to change out of these pajamas. I need to be ready for the next time my door opens.
After counting to three, I get out of bed and open the drawers.
They’re filled with new clothes, all in my size.
At first, the idea of wearing things purchased for me by a captor had me reaching for my dirty workout gear.
But right now, I have no qualms about it.
I shuck off the pajamas and step into black ponte pants before pulling on a black shirt, and placing Wes’s hat on my head.
I’m tying my sneakers when I hear voices and heavy footsteps, the sound of doors being forced open.
Suddenly, my door slams open.
I burst past the people in riot gear and speed out the door, my arms and legs pumping hard as I make the turns I’ve memorized and head for the staircase. It’s two floors down, and the front door is the first right.
There are shouts behind me, but I don’t stop. My feet take the stairs quickly, and I turn sharply. The front door is standing open. It’s right there. I just have to get out.
But the second I’m outside, there’s nowhere else to go.
I’m surrounded by vehicles and there are people everywhere.
Someone shouts, “Lizzy!” and then my sister is breaking through the line of uniformed officers, running to me.
She wraps her arms around me, her heart beating so hard in her chest I can feel it against mine. “Oh my God. You’re okay.”
“Jane,” I say, trying to come to terms with reality. “You’re here.”
“I’m here.”
“How?”
“Wes.”
“Is he here, too?” I ask, pulling back from her and looking around.
“He’s in Druvia.”
“Told you,” Stas says, suddenly beside me.
“I don’t know if I’m pissed or impressed.”
Stas barks out a laugh. “Hello, Elizabeth.”
“Hi, Stas.”
“Oh my God,” Jane says, looking at the man next to me. “Wes sort-of told me you were here, but wow. You’re really here.”
“I am,” he says with a curt nod, but I can see the question in his eyes.
“Stas Dubinsky, meet Jane Andrews,” I say. “My sister.”
“It’s a pleasure,” he says. “And while I cannot wait to hear the entire story, I must—”
But then he’s cut off by a tall, blond man grabbing his shoulders and speaking in rapid Russian.
“His uncle,” Jane says. “He’s been working as a double agent!”
“Of course,” I say. ”So, how…are you…here?”
“I couldn’t get a hold of you,” Jane says.
“You sent that message about the article and I told myself it was fine, that you were especially suited to handling it. But then the article came out, and everyone we’ve ever met was asking about you.
I wanted to call, but I was still so mad at you for making me…
anyway, that doesn’t matter right now. I finally called, and it went straight to voicemail.
For hours. I knew something was wrong, so I called Wes.
” My sister pauses, and gives me a significant look.
“He was clearly being forced to lie to me.”
“What?” I ask, but then I put it together. “Elio.”
Jane nods. “Wes said you were with him in Monaco, but that you couldn’t talk because you were taking a shower. But then he used a very specific Pride and Prejudice reference to get the point across that I needed to find you.”
A laugh bubbles out of me. “What reference?”
“Lydia and Wickham,” she says with a grin.
“Luckily, I worked out that he meant you and Stas had both disappeared and not that you sexily absconded with his teammate. So I called your boss and told him I suspected you’d been abducted.
Within an hour I was on the phone with someone at Interpol.
And then I was put on a plane and brought here. ”
“Elizabeth Jacobs,” a man in riot gear says. “We need you to come with us. We’ll take your statement and—”
“Wait,” I say, cutting the man off and keeping my focus on my sister. “Where’s Todd? And the kids?”
“Mom is with the kids in Houston.”
I wait for her to say more. When she doesn’t, shock pulses through me. “Do you mean—”
“Miss Jacobs,” the man says, all out of patience now. “We need to go. You’ll see your sister as soon as we’re finished.”
“What about Wes?” I ask. “Is he still in Druvia?”
“I wouldn’t know anything about that, ma’am,” he says, escorting me to a black SUV.
I assume that if Jane is here, if Stas and I are safe, and if Wes is in Druvia with the Beaumonts, that means everything is fine. But I know better than to assume.
Especially since there’s one key piece of information that no one has mentioned yet.
The whereabouts of Elio Rocca.