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“Where are we?” I ask, rubbing my eyes. He doesn’t answer. Letting out a frustrated breath, I ask again, “Excuse me, asshole. I asked you a question.”
He pulls into a private garage and jerks the handbrake up before turning in his seat to glare at me. If looks could kill, I’d be six feet under. I rear back in my seat because I am actually terrified of him. If he aimed to intimidate me, it worked.
Leaning over me, he pops open the glove compartment and pulls out a dark grey gun. My chin hits my chest. You have to be kidding me! This whole time that we have been on the road, I had been sitting right in front of a gun. A gun I could have used against him to free myself! What the hell?
I watch as he gets out of the car and tucks the gun into the back of his pants.
He must think I am an absolute fool. Clearly not seeing me as any threat, he had put his weapon right under my nose. Hell, I do feel like a fool at this point.
The car door opens abruptly and unexpectedly. I am still in shock and don't react quick enough, causing me to fall to the side, my seatbelt saving me from falling out completely.
“What are you waiting for, red, a fucking invitation? Get out!” Luca barks. I cringe at him and his tone.
My feet pad quickly on the concrete floor as I hurry along behind him, his long legs striding so fast I barely keep up. He stops in front of an elevator and places his thumb over a pad on the side. A few seconds later, the doors open, and we enter. He presses a button and again scans his thumbprint, then the doors close.
The elevator chimes, and the doors open, displaying an empty charcoal marbled foyer that is all bare except an oversized black shiny entrance door. Luca places his thumb over a small touchpad on the wall, and they click unlocked. I feel like I am in some kind of science fiction movie, half-expecting men in white suits to walk past us at any minute.
Luca opens the door and ushers me inside. Darkness surrounds me, even though the lights are on. The room is filled with black marbled floor so shiny I can see my reflection in them, thick charcoal beams, black leather sofa and furnishings, and charcoal marble kitchen counters with matt black finishings. The entire setting screams masculinity, power, danger. The floor-to-ceiling glass windows act as walls overlooking the buildings and streets of New York.
I place the box on the floor and open the lid. Pumpkin jumps out, pausing momentarily to stretch his legs and then runs off eager to explore. Luca walks over to a bar on the right side of the open-plan room, picks up a glass, and pours himself a long finger of amber liquid. He gulps it down and pours another before turning to me, eyes narrowing and brows creased.
“There is a spare bedroom second door on the left. He points his glass towards a corridor to my right that I hadn’t noticed when I first entered. It blends in with the dark charcoal walls and floors.
“What? Why do I need a bedroom? I thought you were taking me to see your master,” I hiss. “Isn’t this the part where I’m tortured and beaten within an inch of my life to get information out of me, and then I’m killed?”
“You’ve watched too many movies, red. Don’t be so dramatic. You will see Nicolai when he is ready. In the meantime, you will stay with me.”
“How long will that be,” I ask, glaring at him.
“When he is ready.”
I let out a frustrated sigh, pick up my bag that he had placed on the floor in the doorway, and storm off down the hallway. Just as I expected, the bedroom is as dark as the rest of the apartment. The same eeriness that screams coldness, loneliness, detachment. The room only contains a large bed, a small nightstand and a lamp. There is a walk-in closet and a small bathroom off to the side. I am grateful I will at least have some privacy.
Dumping my bag on the bed, I follow behind it. I sink into the mattress and stare up at the ceiling. How did I get here? How could I allow my hunger for truth and injustice to get me into such a mess? I remember my parents, my brother. God, they would be so disappointed in me. The only comfort I can take from all of this is, I will join them soon. Be reunited with them in the afterlife.
Pumpkin jumps on the bed and rubs his head against my shoulder, purring before settling himself into the crook of my neck. A long breath escapes my lungs. Luca clears his throat. I sit up and look at the doorway. He has changed into a fresh pair of black denim jeans and a black t-shirt.
“Don’t you own anything other than black? Or are you trying to go for the dark and dangerous look?” I mock. He doesn’t bite.
“That is not going to work.” He points to Pumpkin on the duvet.
“What?”
“The cat on the bed.”
“Oh well, you’re the one who insisted we bring him,” I point out, looking around the room. “I don’t see an alternative, do you?
He walks away. I shake my head, but he returns quickly, tossing a pad and pen onto the bed.
“Write a list of supplies you need for the fleabag.”
I look at him as I pick up the pad and pen. I scribble down some essentials for Pumpkin on the pad, and then, just to be spiteful, I add some ridiculous luxuries. He looks at it briefly, then walks away, closing the door and leaving me alone.
I lay back onto the bed, an overwhelming wash of sadness grips hold of me like a tightening vice, sucking all the breath from me. Tears unbidden and unwelcome wet my cheeks. I try to swallow every painful tear, but they continue to spill, wetting the duvet. Gargled sobs come from deep within my chest as I let out all of the anxiety I’d been holding back in the last twenty hours and the overwhelming sudden realization that I was wrong. I am not ready to die.
Fifteen
Luca
