Once Dima is done with his handiwork, he picks Liv up off the bed. Our eyes meet, communicating so much. So much regret, so much sorrow, so much heartache. We almost had it all. Love, life, family, freedom. I know this is the last time we’ll ever see each other, and it’s destroying me. All that, all we’ve been through, all for nothing.
Dima uses the butt of the gun to knock Liv unconscious. She falls at our feet like a sad sack of flour. My emotions crash and burn from the sight like a ten-car pile-up.
I can only watch as he drags her limp form into the small closet and shuts the door.
My mind is vacant, my hope is shattered, my body is helpless.
The time has finally come.
The fat lady has finally sung.
The curtains have finally closed.
I have finally been brought to ruin.
16
Liv
I wakeup with a headache so severe it could split a coconut.
When I try to move, I realize I can't. I’m cramped in a small space with my hands bound.
It all comes back to me in bits and pieces. Knuckles, the money, Lev, Dima, and Damon.
Oh, shit, Damon. I kick the wall and scream for help, hoping someone will come to my rescue. I’m relentless, continuously pounding and yelling until my throat hurts and the soles of my feet are sore.
“Help me, please! Somebody help me!” I pull at the cord binding my wrists, but it seems unbreakable. The urgency to escape the closet grows greater with every second. Lord only knows how long I’ve been in here and what damage has already been done. I’m terrified to think what I might find if and when I ever get out of here. My first thought, Damon dead on the floor with a bullet in his brain, or maybe a noose around his neck, or his throat slit. A parade of horrific images marches through my mind, sparking early onset insanity.
“Help, God, someone just fucking help me!” I kick some more, a caged animal fighting to be freed.
In the midst of my tantrum, I hear soft voices. Unsure voices. Hesitant voices.
The closet door finally opens, and I fall out onto my side, causing the two cleaning women to scream.
“For the love of God,” one of them exclaims with a southern twang.
“Are you all right?” The other helps me to sit up.
“I’m fine. A minor concussion, maybe, but I’m fine. I need you to untie me. I have to get out of here,” I chatter nonsensically.
“We need to call the police. Who did this to you?” The older black woman with a motherly tone works to frantically untie my wrists.
“Really bad men, and the police can’t help.” Once my hands are free, I get to my feet and inspect every inch of the room. Not that there's much to inspect. Before I poke my head into the bathroom, I prepare for the worst. I’ll never forget the day my father and I went to collect at one of his regular’s houses and found him lying in a pool of his own blood. Apparently, my dad wasn't the only bookie he was betting with. He owed Pony a boatload of cash, and his number had come up.
My search turns up nothing. No blood, no Damon, and no foul play. They took him, but where?
I seek out my phone, and when I find it, it’s smashed to smithereens right next to his.Fuck.I’m hitting one roadblock after the next. Sheer panic begins to set in.
I run out of the room with the two maids calling behind me. I don’t have time for explanations. I don’t have time for anything.
I hit the button on the elevator six-hundred times until the doors finally open. I do the same once inside, willing the box to move faster. When I arrive at Ky and Kira’s penthouse, the door is open. I step inside to find the bed stripped and all their belongings gone. They’ve already checked out. I nearly burst into tears.
Running back to the elevator, I head straight for the lobby. I don’t know Gerard’s room number, but maybe the front desk can track him down. He’s my last hope, and I’m not even sure if he’s still here either. I try to keep the tears at bay. I try not think about Damon and all the torture he may be enduring. The thought is like a boulder on my chest, suffocating me. Threatening to crush me.
Once on the ground floor, I run through the lobby still in bare feet. I catch the stares and whispers, but I don’t care. I just need to find Gerard.
I cut everyone in line waiting to check in and demand help immediately. The front desk clerk purses her lips at me. “Miss, I have several people—”
