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“No, she’s not, Jon,” Anthony replied, and I swallowed.
“What do you want?” I managed.
“All those years ago, you got it in your pretty head that you could say no to a man like me, but now everything has fallen into place for me, it’s well past due that I finally take what I deserve,” he spat.
“Are you going to kill me?” I asked softly.
“Maybe. I haven’t decided. Maybe after I fuck you raw and bloody, I’ll give you to Jon over there to enjoy my sloppy seconds,” he mused.
“People will notice that I’m missing. You can’t just kidnap me, rape me, and kill me while expecting to get away with it,” I scoffed.
“You still don’t know who I am, do you?” he smirked. My stomach pitched forward at the evil gleam in his gaze. I was out of my depth, and he knew it.
“You’re Anthony Montagna. You’re rich. I know,” I retorted, and he chuckled, the sound chilling me to the bone.
“I’m rich, sure, but that isn’t even a tenth of it. I am the most powerful man in the city. When I tell someone to jump, they jump. If I command them to run, they run, and if I decide someone needs killing, it’s simply a matter of time until they’re nothing more than a corpse,” he answered.
“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice shaking.
“You denied me, Ava, and that demands an answer. I am going to truly enjoy your screams for mercy when I finally teach you what happens when you say no to a kingpin,” he continued.
Jesus Christ. He was part of the mafia.
“I don’t know why my father protected you in the past. I would have come for you long ago if not for him, but he’s dead now. Pissed off some lower turf gangsters in Brooklyn and caught a bullet between the eyes for his trouble. Now it’s just me and I intend to rule the city differently than he did. I’m going to change the way things are done around here, and I’m going to start with you,” he declared, and a tiny, strangled cry flew from my mouth. I slapped my lips together to try to cover it up, but I knew he’d heard it from the look of deranged glee that passed over his face.
Anthony’s phone rang and he turned his head. A hand brushed against my thigh, and I jerked away. It was Jon and I glanced up at him with suspicion. His eyes were a deep mahogany but speckled with lighter flecks of green and hazel. They were hard, but there was a kindness in their depths that I hadn’t noticed before. His nose was angled like it had been broken once before. Several days of beard growth shadowed his chin, giving him a slightly more dangerous aura, but something told me that I would be safe with him.
He held up a single finger to his lips, flashing what looked like a small metal key in the other. He beckoned for me to turn around and it took me a moment to catch onto his meaning. I turned my body just a little and he reached behind my back. I don’t know how he did it, but he slid the key in the lock. Each cuff loosened, just enough to release the pinching ache of the metal. I shimmied my hands, realizing that if I wanted, I could be free of them.
His finger circled again. I glanced at him with distrust, but he didn’t say a word. He looked at me with a sort of sadness, and maybe a hint of regret. I searched his gaze and it softened substantially, enough for me to trust him the tiniest bit.
I’m not exactly sure why, but I turned my back to the seat once again. I caught Jon’s eyes again. I wasn’t exactly sure of his position in the mob, but I’d seen The Godfather a few times growing up. It was one of my dad’s favorite movies.
I knew the basic power structure of a mob family. There was a boss who was the final word on everything. He was typically advised by a consigliere, but in the end, he made the decisions he saw fit. Jon was either his consigliere or the underboss, but I wasn’t sure which yet.
It was clear to me that the men who grabbed me were nothing more than oversized brutes, soldiers in Anthony’s mafia army that obeyed his every order, no matter how ridiculous or violent it may be. They hadn’t said a word this whole time.
The SUV rolled to a stop at a red light. The engine idled, a soft rumbling that vibrated the seats beneath me. Jon reached over me, and I scooted away, watching as he grabbed something from the door. It was a cell phone. It pinged softly. He glanced down and the screen lit up his face.
“Is the penthouse ready for me?” Anthony asked in annoyance.
“Definitely. They just wanted to know whether you’d like the Rolls Royce or the Lamborghini during your stay,” Jon mumbled.
“The Rolls. Definitely. I’ll want to celebrate after I finish with this mess and nothing says old money and power like that one,” Anthony grinned, and he leveled his glare at me.
He stared at me like I was nothing more than the dirt beneath his shoes. His eyes dragged up and down my body, likely imagining me naked and I nearly gagged with disgust.
I wanted to gouge his eyes out.
I turned away, not wanting to see any more. The light changed to green, and I glanced in Jon’s direction. Over his shoulder was a pair of ridiculously bright headlights and I fearfully realized they were getting closer. They had a red light. They were supposed to be stopping.
But they didn’t.
Before I could yell and warn everyone, Jon threw his body over mine, pinning me against the seat. The headlights grew overwhelmingly bright. Brakes screeched and the hot squeal of rubber on asphalt screamed frightfully loud, searing into my memory. The entire SUV jolted hard. The front of the car spun, hurtling off in the direction of a telephone pole.
Time seemed to slow as I watched that single wooden pole come careening toward us. One of the men cried out in pain. Another with panic. Time froze at the moment of impact. Glass shattered noisily and lights spun. Anthony’s body jolted to the side and his head slammed into the doorframe. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he slumped forward, knocked clean out.
He hadn’t been wearing a seatbelt.
