I stagger to my feet and let out into the corridor and all I can taste is blood. I walk over a few steps lost in too many thoughts rapidly submerging my brain into chaos.
A shadow moves at the end of the hallway. My gun is up before I can think, finger already tensing on the trigger.
The silhouette stands perfectly still, a dark outline against the crimson glow, and while I can't make out features, the unmistakable shape of a man is waiting, lurking.
From one cell behind him, I hear a door slam shut, and Mateo emerges, his weapon instantly aimed at the figure standing between us. We have him trapped in a deadly crossfire as Riviera holds a girl passed out in his arms. Damien now prowls around us, my breath comes in ragged gasps as I steady my aim, ready to put a bullet through whoever stands in my way.
That's when he looks up, steps forward, and his face comes into view.
“I know where she is. But first, I need your help.”
I laugh demonically.
Tyler, fucking Tyler, standing before us and something tells me, I am not having breakfast anytime soon.
Forty-Four
Sara
My eyes open and I’m instantly hit with a nausea that propels me forward, but nothing comes out. I lay my head back down, and a pillow, a really nice pillow, meets the back of my head. Surprised, I lunge up, taking in my surroundings, and as I do, I realize my wrists are bound. Whatever is tying them up stings my skin, making me hiss in pain.
The bed is small with a light blue comforter, made of satin embroidery, and I want to puke again. It’s like being in a guest room of miserable rich people who try to make every angle of their house inviting, but it oppresses my every sense instead.
As I look around, I’m not in a house, nor am I underground. When I glance, I stumble at the porthole, the ocean waves and horizon of blue and nothingness come into clarity. My heart sinks as deep as the deep blue sea, and, conveniently, I’m right on top of it.
“Shit,” I murmur to myself, trying to unbind my wrists, but it’s no use. The cabin is luxuriously plastered with millions of dollars’ worth from every inch. The brown shiny marble serving as walls, an art frame of the sea with a seagull hanging.
Real fucking original.
They tried to be poetic, but dressing up Hell doesn't turn it into paradise.
I'm struggling against my restraints when suddenly I hear some shuffling in the closet. My pulse heightens instantly, adrenaline cutting through the fog of whatever drugs remain in my system. Something bangs against the door from the inside, and I hear a muffled “Oh no.”
The closet door flies open, and Mimi tumbles out onto the floor, her arms bound behind her back with what looks like zip ties.
We stare at each other in shocked silence. Her tight black dress rides up her thighs. Her mascara is smeared, making her blue eyes effervescent, and there's a cut on her lower lip.
“Mimi,” I whisper, my voice raspy with dehydration. “What the hell?”
She struggles to sit up, awkwardly maneuvering herself upright and sighs when she sees me, as we both have the understanding that the situation we’re in is a lot more dire than we planned on it to be.
I regret ever feeling courageous enough to turn myself into bait for Tyler and whoever is behind this. Fear is truly creeping in, and if Mimi is on the floor, across from me, her arms tied up,I can only pray and hope that she could let Liam or Joe know where we are.
“You better start talking, Mimi,” I demand, wincing as I try to shift my position on the bed. The waves rock, a mocking lullaby.
Mimi shakes her head, her eyes darting to the door before landing back on me. “Sara, there's so much you need to know about all of this. I don’t know where to start.”
“Just start, I don’t give a shit from where.” I lean forward as much as my bound wrists will allow. “Do you know who's behind this?”
“Not exactly, but I know how I got involved.” She takes a deep breath. “I'm not some random girl who got caught up in this. I'm a hacker and a good one. That's how I invited myself to the poker games.”
My eyes widen. “I always knew you were good with technology, but what the heck. Why?”
“I went the first time because I needed to make money and I'm good at poker. But then...” She hesitates, glancing nervously at the door. “I started seeing things that didn't add up.”
My heart pounds as I lean forward. “What things?”
“Some girls would get a bid on, and I understood some players would win them and then they’d disappear after. I felt sick, so I tried hacking their security system to see if I could figure out where they would end up.” She lowers her voice. “I could only access the outdoor cameras, never the inside. That's when I saw him—Joe. Coming and going at odd hours.”
