31. Alexia
31
Alexia
T he room is cavernous, a bare concrete dungeon with damp walls stained by years of neglect, and the harsh fluorescent lighting does nothing to mask its ugliness. The air is thick, reeking of mold and old blood, a stench that clings to the back of my throat.
An explosion rattles the old building, and I step back from Igor, but his gun stays trained on me.
“Don’t be shy. Come on in, Dave,” Igor taunts. “But I warn you, take one wrong step, and you’ll never see your precious Alexia again.”
Dave surges through the door, and relief crashes over me like a tsunami. He stands out against the gray backdrop, strength and fury emanating from his imposing frame. His shirt is rumpled, his leather jacket is open, and there’s a fire in his deep-set green eyes.
My breath catches.
The rage simmering under his stoic expression is aimed at Igor, but I pick up on the concern as his gaze locks onto me.
For a heartbeat, the world narrows to just Dave, the man who I’ve wounded deeply. Yet, here he is, risking everything to save me and our daughter. This tender moment is shattered as Igor shoves me forward, thrusting me into Dave’s path like I’m a rag doll.
Igor’s dark, hollow eyes gleam with malice. The scar cutting down his cheek adds to his sadistic aura. He’s tall and broad. His graying hair is slicked back meticulously, a clear sign of his vanity. “She’s all yours, Boyle, for whatever time she has left,” Igor sneers, his voice laced with venom.
Dave’s arms catch me before I stumble, holding me firm and steady. His touch is warm, grounding me. He offers me a silent promise of safety despite the chaos erupting around us. Tension radiates off him as his grip on my shoulders tightens.
His eyes rake over me, scanning for any signs of injury. “Are you hurt?” he asks in a low growl.
“No,” I whisper, despite the visible trembling of my body. “I’m okay.”
Gunfire erupts from the hallway outside, echoing off the bare walls, sharp and unrelenting. My heart pounds while Dave’s eyes flick toward the door. His jaw clenches as the sound grows; his men are locked in a deadly fight with Igor’s reinforcements.
Through the deafening explosion of bullets, someone shouts in Dave’s earpiece. His voice is so loud even I can hear it over the cacophony, “He’s on the run!”
I glance back just in time to see Igor, holding a child under each arm like trophies, slipping out through a side door, his movements swift despite the weight he carries. Rose’s small, terrified face breaks my heart. Her dark green eyes, wide with fear, fracture my soul. Rose clings to her stuffed dog, clutching it like it’s her last link to safety.
That sight snaps me out of my stupor. “Rose!” I scream, my throat hoarse, strangled by terror.
My body reacts instinctively, my feet moving before my mind catches up; I follow them, my breath coming in painful gasps.
“Motherfucker,” Dave shouts, raw hatred vibrating in his voice.
He also sprints after Igor.
We bolt up a narrow, spiraling staircase, the concrete walls closing in on either side. Dave moves ahead, his movements relentless and fluid, but even he’s struggling to keep up. My legs burn with the strain, but the adrenaline pushes me forward in pursuit of the monster carrying my daughter. No, our daughter.
We reach the top of the stairs, landing in another corridor. This one is longer, brightly lit by fluorescent bulbs. Igor’s grip tightens on Rose and Pete, his fingers digging cruelly into their tiny bodies. Rage boils in my veins, hot and consuming. My fists clench as my fear turns into fury.
My feet hit the ground harder, faster, matching Dave’s pace as we chase the evil monster down the winding corridor. The sound of our footsteps reverberates through the walls in a relentless echo.
Ahead, Igor’s chilling laughter reaches us. The bastard is reveling in the power he holds. “Come on, Boyle, keep up!”
A muscle beats in Dave’s jaw as he quickens his pace. He’s no longer just a man on a rescue mission; he’s a force of nature, driven by a need for justice, for retribution.
So am I.
We round a corner to find Igor standing at the far end of the corridor, a twisted smirk plastered on his scarred face. Rose and Pete are still in his arms.
“Mama!” Rose’s plea for help and the terror in her eyes threaten to undo me.
But I focus on the task at hand. This isn’t the time for weakness.
Dave steps forward, his voice menacing. “Let them go, Igor.”
The other man’s grin widens. “And give up my prize? No way.”
“You’re dead already.” Dave spits out the words.
Igor chuckles, a hollow, humorless sound. “You’ll have to catch me first.”
With that, he dashes through another doorway. A surge of panic grips me, but Dave’s hand finds mine, pulling me forward.
“We’re getting them back,” he whispers in a firm tone.
I nod and we plunge ahead with the fury in Dave’s eyes matching the burning resolve in my heart.
When we enter the room, I find out it’s a lab, every surface gleaming in clinical, sterile steel that reflects a sickly fluorescent glow. The air feels thick, dense with the acrid scent of chemicals and antiseptic; it burns my nose with every inhale. My heart pounds as I take in the vast room—machines hum and whir, tubes and cables snake across the floor, connecting to large steel tanks lining the walls. I recognize these tanks because I’ve seen similar ones in documentaries about drug production. Igor’s lair isn’t just a prison; it’s a factory for the empire of poison he’s built, a place that’s as much a weapon as he is.
He drags Rose and Pete closer to one of the workbenches. My stomach twists when he pulls a syringe from the polished surface, pushes the cap off with a practiced flick of his thumb. He’s done this before—countless times, I realize with a horrifying certainty.
“No!” I lurch forward, but his gaze snaps to me.
“Stay where you are, slut,” he sneers. “Or your precious little ones get a taste of my latest creation.”
He plunges the syringe into Rose’s arm, and my heart shatters as I watch her eyelids flutter, her tiny body swaying before she slumps to the ground. Pete follows soon after, his small frame folding like a rag doll as his eyes roll back.
I scream, the sound ripping from my throat like an animal caught in a trap, but Igor’s laughter cuts through my anguish.
“Shh, don’t worry.” His tone drips with mockery. “They’re not dead… yet.”
“Rose!” I step forward.
Igor blocks me, moving with the arrogance of someone who knows he’s in control. Igor’s arm locks around my shoulders, yanking me backward, his grip unyielding as he forces me to face Dave. I stumble, my movements arrested as he pulls me tightly against him, his jagged knife pressing against my throat.
I freeze, my heart pounding in terror. Dave’s gaze is fixed on the knife, horror and fury flashing in his green eyes, probably realizing how close I am to the edge of Igor’s blade.
“One more step, Boyle,” his fingers bite into my shoulder, “and I’ll slice her open from ear to ear.”
Dave’s face contorts, pain flashing across his features, mingling with rage and helplessness. “Let them go!”
Igor tightens his grip on me. “Oh, no, Boyle. This is only the beginning. You and your pathetic ‘love’—” He spits the word as though it’s a curse. “—are weak. Love makes men like you soft.”
“Is that why you hate women so much?” I grunt.
Dave interjects, “You’re the one too weak to feel anything.”
“Women are poison,” Igor hisses. “Deceitful, vile creatures. They need to be reminded of their place.”
The knife presses harder against my skin, a sharp sting blossoming where the blade nicks me. A thin line of blood trickles down my neck, and I see the anguish in Dave’s eyes, the silent apology. He’s torn, and I can feel his struggle—he wants to charge, to tear Igor apart, but the risk is too high.
I manage, my voice trembling but defiant. “You’re the real coward. Hiding behind children… what kind of man are you?”
“The winning kind, wife,” Igor chuckles. “Get out, Boyle. I’ll take it from here.”
“Dave, don’t. Get the kids out of here,” I shout.
Igor’s grip tightens, the cold blade biting deeper, the promise of violence just a heartbeat away.
Dave’s eyes flick to mine. “I can’t, Sandy,” he whispers, using the nickname that means so much to us. “I can’t take the risk.”
Igor chuckles. “See? That’s all she’s good for, waiting for a man to rescue her.”
My heart bursts into a million pieces when Dave takes a couple of steps forward like he can’t help himself.
Igor’s grip on me tightens, his knife pressing harder against my throat as he growls, “Stop right there.” He nods toward the door behind us. “Alexia, the kids, and I will go through that door, and you won’t lift a finger. You will watch us leave like the pathetic loser you are. You’ll wait until you hear the chopper taking off before you move an inch. You understand, boy?”
Dave’s striking features contort into a mask of frustration and unconcealed rage. “Even if I do this, you think it’ll stop me? This isn’t over,” he snarls.
I take a ragged breath, my chest heaving. “You can’t let him take the kids, Dave,” I say, desperation edging my voice. “His trafficking ring is more sinister than you know.”
Igor squeezes his hold on me. “Shut the fuck up, bitch!”
Suspicion creeps into Dave’s gaze. “What the hell is going on?”
I gasp for air as the secret I’ve held for too long claws its way up.
Meeting Dave’s eyes, I force myself to reveal the nightmare I’d uncovered. “Igor and his devious friends abuse young boys,” I manage, my voice trembling.
Igor’s arm around my throat cuts my airways. “Enough!”
I groan, “I saw him with the Camorra leader’s grandson—a boy, no more than six years old.”
The horror that flashes across Dave’s face is a visceral reaction that makes my heart twist. I hold his gaze, a silent exchange of understanding, urging him to act, to seize the moment.
He does.
In a flash, Dave lunges forward just as I move my head to bite down hard on Igor’s arm, sinking my teeth in with all my fury. He howls, his grip loosening. In that split second, Dave’s powerful arms wrap around Igor, pulling him back.
The two men collide, crashing into a metal table, sending vials and equipment clattering to the floor. Igor snarls, his face twisted with rage as he grapples with Dave, the two locked in a deadly struggle. I stumble back, my heart racing as I watch them, each strike, each grunt of pain reverberating through the room.
I rush to Rose and Pete, lying on the floor, pale and lifeless. I drop to my knees beside Rose, my hands trembling as I brush a strand of hair from her face. Her eyelids flutter, she mumbles, but she’s too far gone. My heart stutters with renewed fury.
Dave’s gun clatters to the floor in the chaos, sliding to a stop just inches from my hand. Without hesitation, I reach out, my fingers wrapping around the cold metal. I stand and stalk to where the men are fighting. My grip is steady, my aim true as I raise the gun, cocking it.
Igor’s face pales, his eyes widen. For the first time, I see terror in his expression. I don’t hesitate. I pull the trigger, the sound deafening as the bullet rips through the air, striking him square between the eyes. His body jerks back, his grip on Dave loosening as he crumples.
I’m not done.
Years of pain and terror flash before my eyes, fueling the rage that burns in me. I fire again and the bullet slams into his chest. I take another shot, this one to his groin. I keep pulling the trigger until the magazine is empty. With each shot, I take back something he’s stolen from me.
When the gun finally clicks empty, I lower it, my chest heaving, my hands shaking. Dave steps closer to me, accepting the weapon I return to him. He holsters the pistol, staring into my eyes. His face beams with respect, relief, and gratitude. He doesn’t say a word as he folds his arms around me. He doesn’t have to, his heart beating frantically against mine is enough for now.
We turn to Rose and Pete, still on the floor. I scoop Rose into my arms, cradling her fragile body against my chest, whispering words of comfort even though she can’t hear me. Dave does the same with Pete, his strong arms gentle as he lifts the boy.
“We need to get them to a hospital,” he states.
I nod, unable to speak. We rush out of the lab, our footsteps echoing in the sterile silence. Behind us, Igor’s lifeless body lies sprawled on the floor, a fitting end for the monster who’d taken so much from us.
The maze of corridors blurs as we run. My heart pounds with every step, each beat a silent prayer that we’ll make it in time.
Once outside, I recognize Tommy, Dave’s brother, holding open the back door of a black SUV. Dave climbs in and I follow him. We settle the kids in our laps as Shelby, Tommy’s twin, jumps into the driver’s seat. Tommy barely closes the passenger door before Shelby peels away, tires screeching as he speeds toward the nearest hospital.
The silence in the car is punctuated only by the labored breaths of the kids. I clutch Rose close to me, feeling her warmth, as if that alone can keep her safe, alive.
When we reach the hospital, everything becomes a blur of movement and flashing lights. The emergency room doors slide open, and medical staff swarm us, their voices merging into a chaotic symphony of questions and commands. I hold on tight to Rose until a nurse gently pulls her from my arms.
“We’ll take care of her,” she assures me with a calm, practiced tone.
A staff member guides us to a waiting area while the kids are rushed into treatment. The room is sterile, too bright, too empty. Dave and I sink into the plastic chairs, the tension palpable with unspoken fears. His hand finds mine, his fingers squeezing with a strength that grounds me, even as my mind spirals with the worst possibilities.
The door creaks open, and I look up, expecting a doctor, but instead, Nikolai strides in, tall and muscular, with steely eyes. His blond hair is tousled. Nikolai and Dave have been friends forever, bound together by the darkness of their world and the loyalty forged by shared danger. Today, though, there’s a softness to his usually impenetrable expression.
“Ray’s here, too, on the other floor, treating him for his gunshot wounds,” he says quietly.
My chest tightens as I remember Nadya’s affectionate tone when she spoke about Ray. Now she’s gone, and Ray’s in pain, lying somewhere in this hospital, hurt because of us.
“I’d like to see him.” I look up at Dave.
Dave nods. “Of course.”
Nikolai gestures for us to follow him. We move down silent corridors, the smell of antiseptic sharp in the air. Nikolai opens a door, leading us in.
Ray is propped up in bed, his shoulder heavily bandaged. His hair is a mix of red and gold, and a thick beard covers his cheeks and chin. When he notices us, a small smile breaks through and a flicker of warmth lights up his baby-blue eyes.
“Ray,” Dave grunts. He crosses the room and clasps Ray’s hand, his voice filled with gratitude. “Thank you… for everything.”
Ray grimaces as he shifts in bed, his face tight with pain. “I’d take a thousand bullets for my kid. Glad you two got them out of there.”
Silence reigns as they share a look—two hardened men who understand the meaning of sacrifice. We talk for a while, until the need to return to the waiting room overpowers me. Dave catches my gaze, nodding. He releases Ray’s hand.
“We’ll be back,” I promise with a smile. “Rest now.”
Ray nods, his eyes closing as he leans back against the pillow.
When we get to the lounge, Dave’s father, Jack, is there along with his brothers. They stand together, a formidable wall of strength, each of them exuding a different kind of power.
Jack’s gaze is steady, piercing. Behind Shelby’s glasses, his blue eyes are filled with protectiveness. Tommy gives me a small nod of reassurance.
Dave exchanges hugs with his family. There’s a quiet understanding between the men as they take their seats.
Dave and I sink into our chairs. Minutes stretch into hours, and every time the doors swing open, my heart leaps, hoping a doctor is coming to talk to us. Nobody comes. Silence deepens between Dave and me, filled with memories of everything we’ve endured until this moment. He drapes his jacket over my shoulders.
“Thanks,” I whisper.
He wraps his arm around me, pulling me close. The walls I’ve kept up between us crumble as we cling to each other in the quiet hospital.
“We’re going to get through this.” He kisses my hair. “I promise you.”
And I believe him.
Closing my eyes, I surrender to sleep, knowing that I’m finally truly safe.