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“You want to sell it?” I ask.
He looks up at last. “It cost me two hundred bucks.”
“I’ll give you five.” I hold up the credit card Alessandro gave me.
“Done.”
Two minutes later, I’m riding towards the rendezvous point. The industrial district looms ahead, a maze of abandoned and active buildings casting long shadows in the morning light.
The address leads me to an old warehouse, its windows boarded up, the exterior graffiti-tagged and weather-worn.
I pause at the threshold. Every instinct screams to retreat, but Emma’s safety propels me forward. Inside, the air is stale, the only light filtering through cracks in the boarded windows, casting the interior in a patchwork of shadows and dim illumination.
My heart beats a frantic rhythm, the silence oppressive, filled with the echoes of my own footsteps. The warehouse is a labyrinth, corridors branching off into the gloom, each turn a choice between salvation and doom.
Then, ahead, a flicker of movement shatters the stillness. A shadow detaches from the darkness, a figure emerging into the dim light. It’s him, the kidnapper, a smug certainty in his stance.
“You came alone, just like I said,” his voice slices through the silence, confident and cold.
I clutch the stun gun hidden in my pocket, the burner phone my only lifeline in my jacket. “Where’s Emma?” I demand, my voice steady despite the fear.
He smiles, a predator assured of his prey. “Close. Come this way.”
I follow him, every sense heightened, ready for any sign of ambush. As we round a corner, he points ahead to a nondescript van parked in the dim light. “She’s in there,” he says, his tone flat, betraying nothing. “Go see her.”
Without thinking, driven by my desperate hope to find Emma safe, I rush towards the van. It’s only as I reach for the handle that I realize my mistake. But it’s too late. The door swings open, and strong arms grab me, pulling me inside. The door slams shut.
The van starts with a jerk, moving off into the unknown, and with it, my last glimpse of freedom fades into the distance.
TWENTY-TWO
Alessandro
I kill the car engine and look out at the bar, windows boarded up, smoke damage still visible in the blackened brick. The roof is a shell, open to the elements.
Garibaldi’s first bar. The one I ordered burned when he started this war. Appropriate place to meet a rat. One of Garibaldi’s men is waiting inside.
I’ve spent every minute since we found out about Emma delving into his operations, finding someone willing to turn for enough cash. The guy’s name is Eddie.
He’s earning a million for telling me where Emma’s being held. That’s cheap. I’d have paid many times more to make my wife happy.
A memory unbidden floods my mind, sharp and unwelcome. The night was much like this one, cloaked in darkness, the air thick with unspoken threats.
Catherine, her eyes wide and trusting, placed her hand in mine, a silent plea for protection. “Be careful. He’s dangerous.”
“I promised I’d do whatever it takes to keep you safe,” I vowed, the words echoing in the suffocating night air, a promise made in the face of danger. “If he backs off, I won’t hurt him.”
But I failed her. Max’s taunts made something snap inside me. I saw red. I could have hurt him but I killed him.
Another memory. Finding her, lifeless, vomit dried yellow on her white dress. It was my actions, my inability to control my rage against her abuser, that had led to her being targeted. I let my need for control, for vengeance, blind me to the consequences, to the cost paid by those I love.
Now, as I face another loss, the fear of repeating history paralyzes me. Can I keep Jess safe, or will my need to dominate and protect, lead to another tragedy?
The weight of my past failures, of my sister’s death, bears down on me, a reminder of the stakes at play. I can’t let history repeat itself, not with Jess.
I get out of the car and push open the charred door into the bar.
The door creaks ominously, the sound echoing through the emptiness within. My footsteps are soft, cautious, as I make my way deeper inside. The silence is oppressive, a tangible entity that seems to wrap its fingers around my throat.
