Chapter 36
MIA
Itwist my wrists repeatedly to loosen the fibers of the rope. It’s not working, and the friction keeps cutting deeper and deeper into my skin.
Gritting my teeth, I give it one more shot, and when the rope still doesn’t budge, I let out a huff of frustration and rest my head back against the headboard.
There’s no chance of even breaking the headboard to get out of these restraints. First of all, it would be too loud, and I have no clue who’s posted up outside my door. Second of all, bending metal isn’t exactly a skill I was born with.
At some point during Adrian’s dramatic speech, I knew Keith and I weren’t making it out of here alive. We know too much, and Adrian isn’t the type to let loose ends live. It’s how he’s survived this long.
The man is basically a cockroach.
One I’d like to crush under my boot.
After my heart rate settles to a normal pace, I go back to work twisting the rope. I need to get out of here. I need to save Keith. I need to see Leo again.
A sharp pain echoes inside my chest, distracting me from the stinging sensation of raw skin shifting against the rope. When we first met, I was sure he’d be a blip in the road. A really tough and impenetrable obstacle that I’d have to struggle against for a while, and eventually it’d go away.
But now I can’t imagine my life without him.
I swallow hard, forcing myself to focus.
I shift on my side, sucking in a sharp breath before attempting a different angle with the rope. Then something crinkles inside my pocket.
I go still.
I was sure they emptied my pockets, but maybe Shrek is just as stupid as he looks.
I bite down on my lip, trying to contain my excitement. Adjusting my position, I’m able to shimmy the object out of my pocket and onto the bed.
It’s the matchbook.
I almost burst out in laughter…or tears.
I work fast, using my arm to slide the matchbook behind me. Once it’s in position, I fumble it open with numb fingers, smiling when a match wiggles free.
My hands shake as I blindly attempt to scrape the match head against the striker.
Nothing.
I try again and I still can’t get the right amount of pressure.
“Come on,” I whisper under my breath, listening for footsteps in the hall. It’s quiet, but that doesn’t make me feel better.
I strike it one more time, and when I hear a whizzing noise, a huge grin breaks across my lips.
Relief crashes inside me as the tiny flame comes to life. I ignore the heat licking up my wrist and try to keep the match close enough to the rope, but far enough not to burn my skin too badly.
The flame comes into contact with the rope and smoke curls as the fibers begin to blacken.
I start to panic as the smell burns my nostrils. If there is someone outside, they’ll be able to smell the smoke any second.
Right when my neck starts to feel slick with sweat, the rope snaps, releasing my wrists. I jerk my hand free and quickly blow out the match.
Ripping the charred rope away, I swing my legs off the bed, nearly collapsing as pins and needles shoot up and down my legs. Blood rushes to my head as I force myself upright. I sway at first, but when I finally get my bearings the only thought I have is to move.
I’m about to head toward the door when I realize if there is someone out there, I need a weapon and unfortunately the sparse room doesn’t have much to work with. So, I unbuckle my belt and make do with what I have.
When I press my ear to the door and hear nothing, I carefully twist the doorknob.
It’s unlocked.
Either Adrian is cocky enough to believe I’d never escape, or there’s something else distracting him. Honestly, both options are equally believable.
When I step into the hallway, I keep my footing light in case the old wood creaks under my weight. The area is dimly lit, making the old wallpaper look significantly creepier and a real testament to Adrian’s taste.
I grip my belt and press forward. I need to find Keith and fast.
I peek over the railing to make sure I’m completely alone. The house is suspiciously quiet except for some muted jazz music playing somewhere downstairs.
Seeing no one, I go to work checking doors.
Each door I open and find nothing behind is like a shot in the chest. Time is running out, and I’m starting to wonder if Keith is even here.
Or alive.
But I ignore that thought and press on.
After opening the third linen closet on this floor, the doubt inside me grows and slowly morphs into crippling fear. I’m close to giving up when I hear a groan and muffled voices at the end of the hall.
I rush toward the final door, pressing my body close to the wall and listening in.
“Come on, kid. The boss wants to see you,” a voice says that I instantly recognize as Shrek. “Bobbie, get this one moving. I’ll go get the girl.”
Panic claws at my chest, but I push it down deep inside me.
I glance down, eyes locking with the belt wrapped around my fist. The element of surprise will have to do.
The door swings open before I have time to regret my decision. Shrek steps out, and his eyes widen, filling me with the type of confidence I need right now.
“What the—”
I strike before he can finish his sentence.
The metal part of my belt hits his nose with a sickening crunch, and he howls, distracted by the blood gushing from his face.
I doubt the outdated jazz from downstairs will cover up his screams, so I need to work quickly.
“Holy shit, James,” the other guy shouts.
My eyes land on him and I flash a vicious smile. He’s much shorter than Shrek. A much easier target.
The other guy’s eyes are still on his friend when I move.
I rush across the room and throw all my weight into the belt, this time catching my opponent’s throat, making him choke.
It catches him off guard long enough for me to get him on his knees and drive the heel of my foot straight into his side.
He doubles over, and I take the opportunity to hook my arm around his neck, using my other arm to press against his esophagus until his eyes finally flutter closed. When his body makes a satisfying thud against the hardwood floor, I beam with pride.
But my accomplishment is short-lived when Shrek comes barreling toward me and clamps his meaty hand around my arm, yanking me back. I swallow a groan.
“You little bitch. You broke my nose.”
“I think it’s an improvement,” I grin, stomping as hard as I can onto his foot. Again, the big idiot doesn’t see it coming.
Why do men constantly underestimate women?
He howls in pain, his grip loosening just enough for me to push forward while simultaneously slamming my elbow into his throat.
He staggers forward, swaying back and forth. At some point during the commotion, his gun clatters to the floor and we both freeze.
I quirk a brow at him, daring him to go for it. I guess he hasn’t learned his lesson because he takes the bait, ducking for the firearm and leaving his backside completely defenseless.
It all happens quick.
The big guy hits the ground. I lunge into action, throwing my belt around his neck and jerking him backward. And then I press the heel of my foot into his lower back and pull with all my strength.
He struggles, shaking the floor and alerting whoever is downstairs. But I’m too in the zone to care, blood pumping through my veins and my mouth filling with saliva.
All my life, I’ve never wanted to partake in the ruthless violence of my family. They killed without remorse and hurt people just to make a buck.
I loathed everything about them and how selfish they were because it always ended the same way.
But now with this man’s life in my hands, I can’t ignore the bloodlust pumping through me or the excitement I feel when his body finally stops fighting and begins to go limp.
It’s so dangerous; the only thing that stops me from finishing him is Keith’s weak voice calling to me from over in the corner. “Mia, stop.”
I pull back immediately, easing off the pressure. Shrek’s body jerks a few times beneath me before going completely limp.
A raspy breath breaks through my lungs as I loosen my grip. My hands are trembling as I come down from my adrenaline high. For one horrifying second, I was going to kill him…and I wanted to.
A loud snore rattles out of him, confirming he’s alive. I drop the belt to the floor and let myself stare blankly at his body. But it’s only for a second until I snap back into escape mode and scramble for my captor’s gun.
“Mia,” Keith croaks from the corner.
The sound of his voice nearly cracks my heart into two. Swallowing that feeling, I slide the stolen gun in the back of my jeans and rush over to Keith’s body crumpled on top of a stray mattress pushed up against a wall. His digs aren’t as nice as mine.
“Are you okay?” I ask, going to work on his restraints. I swallow hard, trying not to let my eyes hover over the large gash on his forehead. It’s going to need stitches.
“I’ve been better,” he rasps, wincing as I carefully navigate the rope burn around his wrists.
“Same,” I say, cracking a smile once I get the rope loose. “Can you walk?”
Keith winces, rubbing the raw skin on his hands. “Yes,” he says. “Let’s get the hell out of here before dumb and dumber wake up.”
I glance at the two pathetic men snoozing away on the wooden floor. “That’s the plan. I think Adrian is downstairs, but I have no clue how many more men there are.”
“I don’t think they stand a chance,” he smirks, slowly getting to his feet. I lend my shoulder to help stabilize him as blood starts to circulate into his legs again.
Heavy footsteps pound against the staircase. We both snap our heads in that direction and quickly turn back to each other.
Shit.
“We need to move now,” I whisper, but it’s too late.
Adrian and two men are already in the doorframe, guns in hand, staring in awe at the bodies lying on the floor. “Fucking useless,” he mutters under his breath.
When his sickly eyes land on me, my pulse hammers. “Impressive, Mia. But I’m afraid playtime is over. Let’s go see your boyfriend, shall we?”
Leo’s here.
He came for me.
No, Adrian lured him here.
Used me as bait just like he said he would.
Anger rolls over me, and some of that adrenaline from a few seconds ago is still pumping through me. I reach for the gun safely stowed behind my back, but Keith nudges my arm, stopping me. I look up and he shakes his head.
He’s right. Even if I get one shot off, we’re outnumbered. They’ll put a bullet in my brain before I can do anything.
And who knows what would happen to Leo.
I let out a frustrated sigh and step forward, dread curling in my gut. Adrian has us exactly where he wants us, but I won’t go down without a fight.
As if on cue, Shrek moans in his sleep. I let a cocky smile break the surface before letting my mouth crumble into a straight line. “Fine. I’ll go, but Keith is coming with me.”
“Good choice,” Adrian responds, turning to his men. “Take care of them.”
I grimace, picturing what that could mean as I step over one of their limp hands.
I keep silent, trailing behind Adrian. Keith flanks my back, and another one of Adrian’s men follows closely behind like some kind of fucked up conga line.
When we get to the bottom of the stairs, Adrian offers his arm, but I respond with a dirty look. He chuckles to himself, shaking his head. “You know, Leo’s been quite difficult tonight.”
I keep my face blank, even though I want to punch him in the throat. “What did you do to him?”
“Why does everyone ask that?” He smirks, tilting his head. “I’m not a bad guy. I just do bad things sometimes. Big difference.”
I scoff, rolling my eyes. “Could’ve fooled me.”
Adrian sighs, dramatically draping a hand over his heart. “That hurts, Mia. And after everything I’ve done for your family.”
Blinding rage tears through me. “You mean murdering my brother?”
“He was collateral damage. Too smart for his own good,” he shrugs, not an ounce of remorse in those two dead pupils floating in his head. “Besides, I didn’t kill the pregnant bitch, did I? Had multiple opportunities. For someone who grew up in the life, she sure doesn’t know how to watch her back.”
My teeth saw together, vibrating through my ribcage. On second thought, shooting him would be far too kind a death. I think Leo would agree.
Adrian stops running his mouth long enough to guide us into another room, and the second I step inside, I can feel him.
Leo.
He’s alive.
He stands perfectly still in the center of the room wearing a stupidly expensive pitch-black suit that makes him look like a prince of hell.
Leo looks as devastatingly handsome as the first time I saw him in my brother’s bar. He saw right through me that night, and tonight is no different when his forehead wrinkles with concern.
“Emilia,” he says, the sound making my knees want to buckle with relief.
He drinks me in, analyzing every burn, cut, and bruise sprinkled over my body. I can feel his restraint slowly snap into tiny pieces with each new injury he discovers.
I want to smile. Joke and tell him that we match now. But it’s no use. Adrian knows the exact buttons to push, and it’s working.
“I’m okay,” I say.
Leo’s jaw continues to stiffen, and then his gaze catches on the small lump on my back hiding the stolen gun. His shoulders drop a fraction of an inch.
Good.
“See? She’s safe and sound just like I promised,” Adrian announces, stealing away our focus from each other.
“She’s hurt,” Leo growls, taking a step forward with his hands curled into fists. He stops as Adrian pulls out his gun and waves it casually around the room like the psycho he is.
But he doesn’t point it at anyone.
No. It’s just a warning.
“She did that to herself,” he points out. “Besides, she’s not as fragile as she looks. Your girlfriend took down two of my men upstairs.”
Keith snorts under his breath.
I cross my arms. “They started it.”
The corner of Leo’s mouth quirks up just long enough for Adrian to notice. His expression sours immediately.
“You both seem awfully calm for people standing at gunpoint,” he chides, his eyes narrowing, getting colder.
Leo turns to him, all the concern from before disappearing and tightening into the controlled and capable man I’ve come to love despite every warning sign. “Maybe it’s because I finally understand what all of this is.”
Adrian tilts his head, amused, but cautious. “This should be good. Please enlighten me.”
“A desperate man losing control.”