Chapter 33
CHAPTER
THIRTY-THREE
Rett
Walking around with a plug in your butt was kinda weird. In a good way.
Walking into a seedy warehouse where you were getting the location of some drugs and a hostage from a person only known as “the associate” was probably the kind of weird that would make the Guinness Book of World Records.
Not that I’d be calling to tell them about this.
Focus. I resisted the urge to search the shadows for Hiro. I knew he wouldn’t be far but hopefully not too close either.
If something happened to him because of me, I would never forgive myself. Ever.
The second I cleared the doorway and walked deeper into the building, the panic I’d been holding back tried to break free. I’m completely alone now. They can’t see me now that I’m inside.
Hiro wanted to sneak into the building before the meeting, but Enzo said he thought it was being watched, and no one wanted to risk my safety by being seen.
That meant I was on my own for this part.
My feet stuttered on the dusty floor, and I sucked in a deep breath and exhaled.
I can do this. It was literally getting an address and then leaving, a piece of cake considering the stuff I’d already been through.
Once I was out, I could give everyone the address and let Enzo take over.
It was risky, not going to get Wyatt myself, but just getting Hiro to allow this was a feat of epic proportions.
Also, Enzo promised he’d make sure Wyatt made it out okay. And Enzo was a crime boss. Surely, he was capable. Right?
Pushing forward, I went to the end of the hall and pushed through a heavy wooden door. Behind it was a stairwell. A sign with the number of the space where I was supposed to be was on the wall with an arrow pointing down.
This is probably what descending into hell feels like, I thought as I gripped the railing and made my way down. My knees protested with every step, and the joints in my fingers ached.
Finally at the bottom, there was another one of those heavy wooden doors, which I pulled open and peered through. The hall was empty, but there was a slight glow at the end to the right.
I headed toward it. An eerie feeling of being watched crawled up my spine, and my skin prickled. It was so quiet. The light sound of my footsteps seemed loud, and my heart thumped so hard it hurt.
At the door, my fingers curled into fists, and I stepped forward before I could talk myself out of it.
The room was large and abandoned-looking. Old, dingy yellow wallpaper lined the walls, some sections peeling up or missing. Now this was how I’d imagined wallpaper would look. A fluorescent light buzzed overhead, but only half of it was lit.
It was all I managed to notice because my attention immediately went to the man sitting on one of those metal folding chairs in the center of the room. It was the only furniture in the place, and honestly, it seemed a little dramatic. I mean, all this for an address?
“You alone?” the man lounging in the chair asked.
He was manspreading. You know, thighs apart and back sprawled out so he took up so much space that the chair looked small. It was probably an intimidation tactic.
It didn’t work at all.
Okay, fine, it did.
Despite the intimidation factor, I looked straight at him. “Does it look like I have anyone with me?”
“Pat him down,” the man in the chair announced, and I was grabbed on both sides from behind.
Surprise rippled through me. Surprise and fear. I hadn’t even noticed the men standing there in the dark corners of the room.
The men lifted me off the ground and carried me forward, the toes of my shoes scraping along the old tile floor.
“What are you doing?” I asked. “Just give me the address and let me leave.”
“You think I’m gonna give you an address before I check you for wires?” the man in the chair asked. “You really are green.”
He sat there smug, draped in an open brown bomber jacket that looked like it came from the eighties. His hair was scraggly and unwashed, and there was a poor attempt at a beard growing on his chin. I didn’t like his eyes. They were shrewd and marred with dark circles.
The man on my right shoved me down by the shoulder, and I grunted when I hit my knees. “Stay down,” he ordered.
They began patting me down, going as far as pulling my shirt up over my head and sticking their hands in the pockets of my jeans.
This is why Hiro refused to let me wear a wire. He knew they would do this.
“What the hell is this?” the man to my left spat.
I couldn’t see because my shirt was still over my head, and it made the anxiety I already felt ten times worse.
Rough hands grabbed my arm and yanked, fingers sliding under the band of my new watch. “You think we wouldn’t notice this?”
“I-it’s just a watch,” I said, reaching up with my free hand to pull my shirt down.
“Yeah, a watch with GPS and call and texting abilities.”
My nose wrinkled. “I haven’t used it. I don’t even know how.”
The guy in the chair laughed. “Oh, I know you haven’t. Our signal jammer disabled that tech the second you walked into the building. But that still doesn’t mean we’re gonna let you keep it.”
A knife appeared, and I jerked back, but I was grabbed and forced in place.
“Better hold still, buttercup, or I might slip up and slit your wrist,” he said as if the idea gave him joy, and I held my breath as he slid the blade between my skin and the watch, slicing through the band with one clean swipe.
I watched it fall onto the floor, and all I could think was, Hiro gave me that.
Crunch. The man who sliced it off slammed his booted foot down on it, shattering the screen and grinding what was left of it into the tile. “Oops.”
“He’s clean now,” the man to my right declared, and the pair yanked me back to my feet.
The plug inside me shifted uncomfortably, but I used the sensation to ground myself.
“Just give me the address,” I said.
“Oh, you think you can come in here and make demands?” the man in the chair said.
“I’m not. I’m asking for the information I was told to come here and get.”
A long, drawn-out silence permeated the room as the three men standing around exchanged glances. The light overhead flickered, the buzzing sound growing louder like a warning.
The metal chair creaked when the man stood, unfolding his excessive height over my small frame.
I started to back up, but the men on each side of me caught my arms, forcing me in place.
He leaned down to speak in my face. “There’s been a change of plans.”
“That wasn’t the deal,” I said, adrenaline flooding my limbs and scattering my thoughts.
“Bag him,” the associate declared, and I went slack in the hands holding me, dropping onto the floor and rolling.
A hand reached for me, but I bit it. The gross coppery tang of blood splattered my tongue.
“Oww, goddammit, he bit me!”
The other guy came forward, and I kicked out, making him scuffle back. Lunging to my feet, I rushed toward the door but stopped almost as fast.
The body filling the doorway was larger than the other three behind me. His T-shirt was so tight it was practically painted on, and as I stared, he began to crack his knuckles.
Someone grabbed my arm and whirled me around. “You think you can bite me?” a voice roared, and then pain exploded across my cheek. I hit the ground with a hard smack and was then lifted, arms pinned behind my back. A fist buried in my stomach, and I doubled over, dropping to my hands and knees.
Rough hands grabbed fistfuls of my hair, yanking my face back. A shadow moved closer, and I braced myself for another blow.
A bag was shoved over my head, and something tight yanked around my throat. Absolutely panicked, I reached up, clawing at the band, which felt like a zip tie, trying to break it free.
It was too tight. I couldn’t see…
“Nighty-night,” someone sang, and then there was nothing at all.