Chapter 14 #2
As he drove, I wracked my brain for a way out of this. Without a weapon or a way to communicate I’d have to rely on cunning. But my mind was so focused on Enzo that I found it almost impossible to think. Panic was setting in.
Inhaling deeply, I forced air into my lungs hoping that would help me concentrate. Rapid, incoherent thoughts bombarded my mind, and the only thing that slowed them down was the sound of my breathing.
I tried to think of things that I could use against my driver.
Byrne, that was his last name. I held onto the name, willing my brain to start thinking now that it had been able to recall a name.
I’d been smart enough to come up with the immunity deal.
Smart enough to go to my father to try and get a name.
But while I knew his name now, I still barely knew anything about Dave.
He was the chauffer who had passed our background check, getting vetted after the car bombing almost killed my dad.
But I didn’t know much else. He knew a lot more about me than I knew about him.
Maybe getting him to talk and open up would work in my favor.
“Dave, where are we going?” I asked, fighting to keep my tone light and conversational. “Help me understand where we’re headed.”
I noticed the way he flinched when I used his name, as if he preferred to be anonymous.
“You’ll know when we get there,” he answered darkly.
“What do you want from me?” I asked, every single potential answer filling me with abject terror. “Is it money you want? My family could help you.”
“Now you people want to help me,” he said icily. “Where the hell were you when I was drowning in medical debt? Where the hell were you then?”
“I-I don’t understand,” I said. “Help me understand.”
“You’ll never understand,” he threw out harshly. “People like you never do.”
Bile rose in my throat, my stomach twisting so painfully I worried that I might throw up. But somehow, I managed to avoid that, as I focused on breathing while trying to figure out where we were headed.
For the rest of the car ride, I remained still and quiet while Dave seethed from the driver’s seat, occasionally casting me a glare in the rearview mirror that made my blood run cold.
Finally, we navigated down a narrow, stony road near the waterfront.
Based on the dim lighting and the shape of the building, I figured we were at one of my family’s abandoned warehouses.
If I accounted for how long it took for us to get here, I guessed it was one of the old warehouses that used to store goods for my family’s hospitality business—the front for our enterprise.
This was where our liquor and dry goods had been stored in the previous century before we moved to a larger, more modern warehouse across town.
The dilapidated warehouse had been abandoned for so long that I knew there was nobody here. No one was around to come to my rescue.
When he got out to open the back door, I shrank away from him. But then he pointed his gun at me and lowered his head to meet my eyes. “Get out. Quietly.”
I started to move, and the next thing I knew, he was grabbing hold of my upper arm, roughly dragging me out of the car. Pain spread up and down my arm, making me wince as I tried to find my footing on the rocky ground.
“See the entrance? Head to it. Any sudden movements and I shoot,” he said, mercilessly pushing the gun into my back.
I didn’t argue. I just kept my eyes on the warehouse doors and started to move, my heart pounding against my ribs with each shaky step.
Only two outside lights were on and they were dim and blinking. But they were enough, helping me to follow the path to the warehouse entrance.
When we got to the doors, I noticed that the rusty lock and chain holding them shut had been broken and dumped on the ground. Likely by Dave.
“Open the doors,” he ordered behind me.
With every internal alarm ringing, shouting at me to stop, I followed his orders. Desperate as I was to get away from him, I still hadn’t seen an opportunity to escape. If I chanced making a run for it now, I’d be out in the open. A sitting duck for him to shoot.
The rusty doors swung open with a loud creak that broke the silence. Then, Dave pushed me into the darkness. Before I could take advantage of the dark, the inside light switched on, illuminating damaged old crates and burlap sacks.
Another push. This time so rough that I almost stumbled.
In my head, I silently cursed him, vowing revenge the moment I got my chance.
“We’re going to the lower levels,” he said.
With that, he pushed me across the expansive loading area, down a long dimly lit hall that led to the storage area below ground.
Resentment snaked through me the entire walk.
I hated having to follow orders. Hating being threatened.
But truly, the most consuming emotion was my fear for Enzo.
What if he never learned what happened? Or worse, what if Dave came after him too?
Anyone who could set a fire to kill another person was capable of anything else.
A couple more lights came on. There were hundreds of cardboard boxes in the storage area, in addition to crates and ancient barrels.
In the center were several chairs. While the place was a mess of huge tins and industrial-sized containers the central area with the chairs looked staged. Specially for this moment.
“Sit down,” he ordered.
This time, I didn’t feel resentment. Just a fleeting relief at being able to sit down instead of having to stumble around on shaky legs.
“Reach your arms behind you,” he ordered.
When I did as told, I felt him slap cold handcuffs on me.
As I squirmed in the chair, Dave took a seat across from me, the gun still trained on me as he dumped my bag on the floor at his feet.
I eyed my bag, then looked at my surroundings, trying to see if there was a way out of here.
“Looking for an escape?” Dave asked. “Don’t bother. You’re not leaving this place alive.”
“Why are you doing this?” I asked through clenched teeth, my anger rising to mix with my terror.
Dave didn’t respond right away. Instead, he reached into his jacket pocket, retrieving a cigarette and a lighter.
“I see you’re just dying to know why you’re here,” Dave said, lighting the cigarette. “Fine. I can fulfil a final wish. You’re here because you deserve to be here.”
As he spoke, his dark, sinister voice made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I had to keep him talking. It was my only chance to survive. Because in my heart, I knew that once he stopped talking, I was done for.