Page 50 of Alex

Chapter Twenty-Four

Less than a minute after Evelyn,saw Alex being pushed into the small speedboat a needle had been jammed into her neck and everything had gone black as she felt her body turn to lead and her legs give way. She’d felt arms around her, probably that Irish asshole who held the gun on her, then nothing until now.

The cold was the first thing she noticed. A shiver racked her body and the biting bone-deep cold seeped through her consciousness. The heavy, damp fabric of her dress clung to her skin. Her feet were bare, and she could only just touch the freezing concrete floor with her toes.

She was hanging by her arms, the height of the hook such that she felt as if her shoulders were going to pop out of their sockets any minute. The ache in her back, neck, and arms made her want to cry in pain but she wouldn’t. She would never show weakness to an enemy—it wasn’t her style.

Her brain tried to remember what had happened. She had watched the bullet hit Arthur and jumped into the water. Not because she wanted to save him but because the sight had knocked her out of the shocked state she was in and she’d realised she couldn’t let him get away.

He had been kind to her but only for his own gain. He had taken more from her than he had ever given and then she’d thought of how he had reacted to little Ellie’s murder like it was a broken fingernail or an inconvenience and not the life of a precious child. All his talk about wanting to get out had been bullshit he’d fed himself, so he didn’t feel like the piece of shit he was.

When she had pulled herself on board, however, that Irish asshole had been there and held the gun on her threatening to set off the second explosion on the yacht if she moved, so she had remained still, barely breathing. At that time Arthur had been breathing but unconscious.

Now she was here in this freezing cold and windowless room, the cinderblock walls giving her no clue to where here was exactly. A single light hung from the middle, but the light was weak, and she couldn’t make out much from her place in the corner. There was a dark metal door on the left opposite corner to where she was hanging and nothing else except a single wooden chair which was too far away to be of any use and a camera that was blinking at her.

She needed to figure out where she was and who was holding her. She had seen Simon Booth as he’d walked Alex away and her belly clenched painfully as she thought of Alex. He was alive, of that she had no doubt. To even entertain anything else was unthinkable and so painful she couldn’t go there.

With a wash of guilt, she realised what she had unwittingly put him through by not getting in contact for all those years. Now she knew why David had kept on about the danger to her family if she ever went home. So much so that even when the threat was over her fear still stopped her. What if the job she now did for Roz put them all in danger? She had known who and what Alex was, but she had to admit to herself at least that her fear of rejection from him had stopped her. If she ever got out of this hellhole, she would try and make it up to him somehow. Evelyn knew he had forgiven her—such was Alex’s big heart. But she needed to make amends with her family too and stop the pain she now acknowledged she had caused by staying away.

The door to the dungeon, for want of a better word, opened and a flood of light filled the space as Irish walked in. Evelyn stayed silent as he moved closer, stopping just out of reach.

“I brought you some dry clothes.” He laid a pair of tracksuit bottoms and a long-sleeved thermal vest beside her feet. She continued to glare at him in silence and he quirked a brow at her. “Nothing to say?” he asked with a sneer.

“What do you want? My eternal gratitude for kidnapping me, asshole?” she hissed.

He chuckled and crossed his arms over his chest waiting. She hated that he was good looking. All assholes should be ugly fucks, especially the likes of him.

“You finished?” She stared at him silently. “I’m going to let you down but if you try anything, I’ll knock you out again. And believe me when I say I’m one of the nicer men in this place. You do not want to be unconscious when some of the others see your pretty little ass.”

The warning was clear and while she might be furious, she wasn’t stupid. She needed all her wits about her in this shithole. “Fine.”

He moved closer and lifted her off the meat hook she was suspended from. Evelyn tried not to cry out as blood rushed back into her shoulders. The pain was almost unbearable, but she kept silent. Never show a weakness for them to exploit. Roz’s words rang through her mind. He cut her ties and stood back; his arms folded again as he waited.

Evelyn looked at the clothes then at him. “Charming.” She knew her tone was waspish, and all she got was a dead look for her trouble. This guy was in charge. She hadn’t figured out who he worked for yet, but he was most definitely at the top of the tree. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him, but she knew he would never answer her outright, so she let it go.

Turning her back to him she reached down and pulled the damp cold material from her body and let it land in a wet heap on the floor. Squatting so as not to flash him her ass any more than she had too she quickly pulled the bottoms up her legs and slid the thermal over her body. The feeling of warmth was instant, and she was grateful for that small mercy. If there was one thing she hated, it was being cold.

“Thank you.”

He moved closer, tied her hands, and placed them over the back of the chair he had pulled into the middle of the room and secured her tightly every move made in silence. She didn’t fight him figuring that she would bide her time until she had an escape planned and knew precisely what she was facing. She wouldn’t get past him in this six-foot square locked space anyway.

He picked up the wet dress and walked to the door before turning back to her. “Don’t thank me. If you don’t cooperate, you’ll wish I had let you die of pneumonia by the end of the day.”

He left and she heard the lock clang into place. Evelyn watched the door and thought on his words. Who did he work for? Simon? She had thought it was Arthur, but he had left her with no malice and a promise of help if she ever needed it. That didn’t fit either.

Her mind went around and around until she almost drove herself mad. She felt her eyes drooping but forced them to remain open, not wanting to get caught out by any of the pigs Irish had talked about. But the next thing she knew her head was shooting up at the sound of the door opening again. Instantly alert she watched as a more muted light filled the space denoting late afternoon. That meant she had been here about twelve hours by her guess.

The doorway filled and anger seared through her as Arthur walked in. He wasn’t showing any signs of being shot, yet she had seen it with her own eyes. Evelyn knew it was easy to fake a gunshot, but she hadn’t thought that was the case. He moved closer, Irish standing behind him, and she fought not to show her emotions as her heart beat faster and her blood rushed through her body. The desire to do this man harm intense.

“Evelyn.” His greeting was soft before he came to stand in front of her close enough that she could see the knife he held in his hand. It was a hunting knife and wickedly sharp looking.

“David. Nice to see you recovered from getting shot,” Evelyn could hear the ice almost dripping from the word as she watched the knife from the corner of her eye.

“You should have come with me, Evelyn. There would have been no need for all this,” he twirled the knife in the air close to her face, “unpleasantness.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. He ignored her comment about getting shot though.

“So, all that ‘I’ll be watching’, acting like you cared about me was bullshit,” she hissed.

“Not at all. I have always kept a close eye on you. I do care about you which is why I tried to do this the nice way. Your stubbornness has forced my hand and I need your cooperation.”