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I came up empty-handed until I chanced opening the cabinet under the sink. The hinges squeaked terribly, so I looked quickly. On the very bottom shelf, behind an oddly placed phone book was a very old, very rusty disposable razor.
Snagging it, I closed the cabinet door, purposefully breaking the plastic off the razors. A filthy rag sat at the bottom of the shower. In a flash of reluctant brillance, I took a deep breath and picked it up with my thumb and forefinger. Completely disgusted, I wrapped the razors in the smelly washcloth.
“I’m coming in,” Lorenzo called, the handle on the door already turning.
I shoved the rag in my cleavage, sure to push it down, so it wasn’t visible, doing my best not to think about what was growing on the damp cloth.
“Why are you just sitting there?”
“No toilet paper.”
“Shit. Give me a second.” He left the door wide open as he disappeared. “I’m not sure how long we’ll be here, so I brought a whole pack.” I caught the twelve-pack of gentle comfort toilet paper, promising myself I wouldn’t be here long enough to even finish a roll.
“Thanks. Can you—” I gestured to the door with the tp.
“One more minute.” Lorenzo left, but the door was wide, fucking open.
Rolling my eyes, I quickly wiped and pulled up my tights. I didn’t care much for being caught with my panties around my ankles.
An ancient bar of soap was stuck to the sink, and I fought to pry it off just to wash my hands in water that smelled like rotten eggs.
There was no way you could confuse this cabin with the kind the Morettis owned.
When I looked up in the mirror, Lorenzo was creeping around the doorway, watching my every move.
I turned and leaned against the sink. “So, what’s the plan? Are we going to rough it here for the foreseeable future, or—”
He held up a finger and put a phone to his ear. “Marco?”
When I opened my mouth, Lorenzo shook his head and pointed his gun at me. Marco shouted on the other end of the line, but I couldn’t understand what he was saying.
“If you want her back, I have some demands.” He winked at me and casually leaned against the doorframe, his gun hanging limply in his hand like he didn’t have a care in the world. “I’ll send the location, and I want Luca to come alone. If I catch sight of any of you, Sasha dies. Got it?”
Marco said something, and Lorenzo hung up.
“We’ll see if they can follow directions. Now come out here.” He turned, leaving me to follow.
Hope flared in my chest. They knew I was gone and who I was with. Luca was clever enough to outsmart Lorenzo. I just needed to be patient.
Not exactly my strong suit.
I took a moment to collect myself before I left the bathroom. Lorenzo sat sprawled out on a ratty old couch, leaving a full-size bed in the corner as the only place for me to sit. I walked across the roughest, ugliest crochet rug and perched on the edge of the mattress. The bed creaked loudly, and I sunk in more than I expected, sending my legs flailing.
“Get comfortable.” Lorenzo laughed and tossed the blanket from the trunk to me. He threw a log into a wood-burning stove, making the flames jump up. “It’ll take a minute for this place to warm up.”
I folded my legs, covered as much as possible with my dress, and then wrapped the soft blanket around me. Holding the top of the fleece gave me easy access to the razors.
Lorenzo sat back on the couch, propping his elbows on his knees as he leaned toward me. We sat there, staring at each other—me in apprehension, wondering if I could dig the rag out of my cleavage fast enough to attack, and him with open curiosity as he spun a gold ring on his finger.
Squinting, I was just able to make out the design. “Is that an M?” I blinked, hoping my eyes were playing tricks on me.
He glanced down at his hand with a cold smile. “It is.”
Things started to click in place, and I shut my eyes, dread twisting with the fear of my current situation. “Why do you have the same ring as Luca?”
“You know why.” He laughed, and I heard the couch squeak.
My survival instinct kicked in, and my eyes flew open. The fact I took my eyes off him for even a second was foolish, but luckily Lorenzo had only leaned back and thrown his arms over the back of the couch.
