Chapter 27
TWENTY-SEVEN
CRICKET
Every part of my body aches. My mouth is so dry, my tongue is sandpaper. My eyelids feel glued together, but somehow, I rip them apart. The first thing I notice is that I’m tucked in a nice bed, underneath a warm comforter. The second thing I notice is that I’m in a glass cube. The last thing is his eyes on me.
“Well, good morning, princess.” Maybe it’s the sinister look on his face, or how his voice is raw and raspy, like he just smoked a whole pack of cigarettes, but there’s a new Gabriel sitting on the other side of the glass. “You’ve been sleeping a long time.”
He is sitting in a lone plastic chair outside of the side of the glass box. On the table next to him is a box of chocolate-dipped croissants.
The back of my head hurts. I reach behind my head and find a sizeable lump that feels tender. That can’t be good. Firm swelling is fine. Soft and squishy is a problem. Now I’m worried that my vertigo isn’t just from the tranquilizer. Maybe I have a serious head injury.
I look up and down my arms to see bruises in the vague shape of fingers. I don’t recognize my clothes. I’m in silk, black pajama bottoms, and a matching camisole. “You changed me,” I mutter.
“You saw me naked.” He smirks. “I thought it was only fair. By the way, your tits are the eighth wonder of the world.” After surveying my narrowed eyes, he laughs. “Oh, calm down. I’ll cross a lot of lines, but not that one. We didn’t have sex.”
“I wasn’t wondering if we had sex. I was wondering if you raped me. Call it what it is.”
He arches one brow. “Whatever you want to call it…didn’t happen.”
It’s a wonder to me how I can hear him so well. I look up to the top of the glass box to see a row of holes embedded in the cube, barely large enough for a finger to slip through. These must be so I can breathe. Otherwise, I would suffocate in this glass prison.
Oh. I know exactly what this box is. It's a discarded stage from The Dollhouse. But instead of a trapdoor in the floor, there’s a glass door that’s nearly seamless, cut into the side of the wall and reinforced with a thick, metal frame. On the outside of the door, there’s a number pad. It’s an electronic lock.
None of the stages for The Dollhouse have this mechanism. Gabriel insisted his dancers were never trapped. So, I can’t help but wonder if Gabriel had this particular cage fashioned specifically for me. Then again, maybe I’m not his first victim.
I look around the vast room outside of the glass. It’s empty outside of a few extra broken stages. Some of the glass boxes are missing walls. Others have deep cracks in the glass. They’ve been discarded down here in what seems to be something of a warehouse. The floors and walls are concrete and there are rows of boxes stacked in one corner. This must be a storage area, meaning I have to be in the basement of the club.
“Why am I here, Gabriel?”
“I told you liars were a really big pet peeve of mine, right? I guess you could call this me working out my aggression.” He pumps his brows.
I touch my neck, feeling the small scar bump where Vesper stabbed me with the tracking device. Gabriel’s foolish if he doesn’t free me soon. I will be looked for, and he will pay the consequences. “How long have I been sleeping?”
“About two and half days.” He holds up his hands. His wounded hand has a new, sleek, black bandage. His mobility already seems to be returning. “For that, I’m sorry. Riggs shot you with a tranquilizer that was strong enough to take down a rhino. Honestly, I thought he killed you.”
I try to clear my aching, parched throat. “Seems like you’ve had plenty of time to dry your tears.”
“Oh, come on, Fiona. I’d miss you if you were gone.” He flashes me a villainous grin. “Or at least I’d miss your tits anyway.”
My stomach twists so painfully that I can’t help but clutch my stomach with two hands. A loud growl comes from my midsection. I know this pain all too well. Except this time, hunger pains are paired with severe dehydration. At least Luca gave me a bathroom with running water.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Are you hungry?” Gabriel asks. He grabs a croissant from the box and chucks it with all his might at the thick wall of glass. I’m too weak to even flinch.
It was a poor judgment call. And it’ll cost my life. Gabriel really is a madman. But he hid it so damn well. I retreat backward until my calves hit the bed frame. I slump down on the mattress as the room continues to spin.
When I look up, Gabriel is standing right up next to the glass, looking down on me. “In case it wasn’t obvious, this is the part where you beg me for your life.”
“Would it do me any good?” I mumble, but Gabriel can hear me clear as day. It’s so quiet down here, I could hear a snake slither.
“Couldn’t hurt. Beg a little. Then, I’ll bring you some water—or Gatorade, if you pull your tits out while you do it.”
How could I be so wrong? He was charming and kind, but that’s not what blinded me. It was the pity. I felt so bad for him that I couldn’t see the manipulation. That’s why he’s so dangerous, because he can be absolutely wonderful.
I’ve been in this situation before. This time, I won’t give in. This time, I won’t beg… I’ll go out like a warrior. “Know what I’ve learned about men like you?” I look at Gabriel, daggers in my eyes.
“Who are men like me?”
I touch my tongue to the roof of my mouth, trying desperately to coax some moisture. I need water…but I’m about to seal my fate. “Men with tiny dicks,” I clarify. “They seem to be obsessed with people begging them. Like a fetish of being wanted. If that’s not insecurity, I don’t know what else is.”
“Wow. That’s quite insulting. No water for you.”
“Fine.” I mentally prepare myself for what’s next. I’m probably still too drugged up to really feel the dehydration migraines, but those are coming. After that, the hallucinations.
“You know, even though you’re being a little cunt, I still got you a gift.” Gabriel pulls his phone out of his pocket, scrolls to a picture, then holds it up to the glass. “Come see,” he says.
It seems impossible for my legs to move again, but I can’t see the screen well from here. I force myself to stand and take a few strides to the glass. My heart drops when I see the picture. It’s a man with dark hair and a trimmed beard. His throat is slit wide open, and he’s lying in a pool of his own blood. To make matters worse, my name is carved into his forehead.
“Luca,” I say. The air leaves my lungs as my heart constricts.
I should feel joy that Luca finally met his bloody end. But as my heart twists in my chest, it surprises me that I feel remorse. Not for Luca, but for his widow, and fatherless daughters. I know the pain of losing a parent. Saoirse and I were shells of what we should’ve been when my mother died. Even Pappa…the pain of losing someone, monster or not, never goes away. Luca deserved to have his throat slit open. But his family was innocent. “How did you—”
“You think I don’t know the world’s most prominent mafia family? I knew who Luca Accardi was, the very moment you mentioned his name. I also know—even though you continue to lie to me—Vienne didn’t just hire you to spy on me. You were supposed to kill me, weren’t you?”
I ignore his interrogation, and instead, point at the phone screen. “Why did you do this?”
Gabriel shrugs one shoulder. “It’s not right your rapist should outlive you. I’m going to let you die in here, Fiona,” he says so matter-of-factly. “But when you go, know that you’re free. I took care of the bad man for you.”
“My friends and family will know I’m missing. You’re accusing me of being a killer. Imagine what kind of company I keep. They’ll come looking for me.”
“Oh, I hope so,” he says with a menacing grin.
“Why would you want that?”
“I could’ve put a bullet in your brain, tied cinder blocks to your feet, and dumped you in the harbor by now. That’s what I did with the spy Vienne hired.”
“What?” I step back, feeling my heart in my throat.
“You honestly think this is the first time Vienne’s tried this?” Gabriel laughs. “It’s offensive, actually. She created the monster, and now she doesn’t even have the courtesy to deal with me herself.”
Created the monster? What does that mean?
“Gabriel, you couldn’t possibly have faked everything. I know there’s good in you. It’s not too late to turn this around. We can deal with Vienne together. And if you haven’t killed me yet, maybe it’s because you know I can help you.” Gabriel’s gaze bores into me as he tucks his phone back into his pocket. He looks me up and down and I try to keep my knees from buckling, so I don’t crash onto the floor.
He curls his finger, gesturing me to come closer. I clamber forward until we’re both just inches from the glass that divides us.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Fiona. You’re only alive because you’re bait.”
With that, Gabriel walks away into the distance, exiting the basement through an unmarked door. Once I’m alone, I seize the opportunity to thoroughly examine my cage.
The glass is at least six inches thick, maybe more. No way I can break through it. I study the tiny air holes lining the top of the box. It’s no use. Nothing that would fit in those holes would be strong enough to break the glass. Those air holes were most definitely lasered in.
I push against the outline of the door, but it’s no use. I try to dig my nails into the seam in case I can wedge it open, but I should’ve known better. Gabriel would’ve never put me in here unless he was damn sure I couldn’t get out.
I look around the room and the furniture it contains. The bed’s frame is metal. I could maybe dismantle it and strike the glass, but for one, I’m too weak to stand. I’d need so much more strength to deliver a blow that could even crack the glass. But also, I know that even at my strongest, the glass is too thick. It’d be like using a toy hammer on an iceberg in Antarctica.
I really am trapped.
I do my best to fight off the feeling of the walls closing in. I try to calm the same panic I had all those years ago when my world came crashing down. I feel just as weak and helpless now as I did back then. After years of taking lives, I thought I’d feel so much more powerful, but here I am. A scared eighteen-year-old girl once more. Waiting for death.
I climb back into the bed, feeling like a zoo animal on display, even though there’s no one else here.
Eventually, I drift off and fall into a heavy slumber yet again. I have no idea how long I’ve slept, but when I wake, there’s a tall glass of ice water sitting on the nightstand beside the bed.