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“You’re an easy target.” Declan taps his finger on his briefcase and growls, “The detective knows how it works. One call from his superior and you would be driven home with an apology. The charges would be dropped due to lack of evidence, and he would be back to checking tickets in the car lot.”
“So, he chose his moment for his own agenda. Is that what you’re saying?”
Now I’m even more alarmed because Declan’s right, he has approximately ten hours to carry out his own reason for banging me up and Declan replies in a low voice, “Whatever the detective is planning must be something concerning you. To remove you from the picture, knowing your hands are tied. Can you think of anything I need to know about?”
“My stepmother.” I lower my voice to a whisper.
“We liberated our father’s money from her bank account. If I was guessing, I’d say she’s on her way to my home to retrieve it. Flora has knowledge of it and will be her best chance at getting it back. I’ve asked my consigliere to take her to the retreat, but Leo told me they haven’t arrived.”
“Sounds likely.” He huffs, “Leave it with me, Dom. I’ll pay the mansion a visit on the pretext of getting some files. Is the money safe?”
“Unregistered and untraceable accounts. Flora doesn’t have a clue where they are. Only me.”
“Good.” Declan nods. “I’ll see what I can do. I may be able to pull some strings higher up the food chain. The detective may think he’s got this, but he hasn’t met me yet.”
As Declan stands and moves to the door, he grins. “They will regret this, Dom. You have my word on that. I love nothing more than eating the authorities for breakfast and it’s been a while. I’m going to enjoy this.”
As he leaves, I pray he’s right because the more I think about it, the more danger Flora is in and if anything happens to her, hell won’t be painful enough for its new inhabitants.
CHAPTER37
FLORA
That’s a strange noise. I must be dreaming and wait for the dream to switch and reveal itself. However, there is nothing but a weird humming and as I struggle to open my eyes, all that lies before them is darkness.
As the shadows part, I stare up at a ceiling that I definitely don’t recognize. In fact, it’s so high it can’t be anywhere I’m familiar with. If anything, it appears I’m in a church.
I make to sit up but am held down by my wrists, my ankles are also bound and my heart fills with terror. I’ve been here before—in this position and the cold fingers of dread curl around my heart and tell me I’m right back where I started.
I turn my head to the side and make out a shadowy figure standing a short distance away, covered from head to toe in a black robe. At least I think it’s a person. I can’t be certain of that and then I realize it must be because the gentle hums around me are definitely human.
There is more than one figure standing around me and I frantically spin my head and witness what must be ten people all holding candles and wearing the same cloak.
“What’s happening?” My voice bounces off the chilling walls and my head thumps with a blinding pain, causing me to wince. I get no answer at all and if anything, the humming increases.
Whatever I’m lying on is cold against my back and for the first time, I realize I’m naked.
This is not good.
“Please, who are you?”
My voice shakes but I get no acknowledgment that I even spoke, and the humming is beginning to seriously freak me out. Then the figure moves and heads toward me, the hood effectively disguising their identity as they lift the candle, blinding me from seeing anything but the flickering flame.
The noise continues and I gasp as candle wax drips onto my vulnerable body and as the molten liquid sears my skin, I cry out in alarm.
“What the fuck, you demented bastard, let me go!”
It’s as if I’m in the weirdest nightmare as instead the figure turns and walks silently around me, a second figure taking its place and doing the exact same thing.
As more wax drips across my body, I feel the burn of wax on skin and one by one they all take a turn, causing me to scream in agony as I struggle to avoid it. It’s almost as if they can’t hear me because nobody reacts and just patrol around me, dragging their candles the length of my body, depositing the wax on any exposed of part of it they can. I’m not even sure how long it lasts and it’s as if they will only stop when the contents of their candles are relocated to my skin.
The tears fall unchecked as I struggle to make sense of this. The only thing I can remember is being shown to the stark bedroom by the detective. I must be dreaming. Surely this can’t be happening, and I try my hardest to wake from this sadistic nightmare.
Suddenly, they figures stop humming and retreat back to the shadows and if anything, that scares me even more because a bright light suddenly blinds me to anything, hurting my eyes, causing me to snap them closed. A weird chanting replaces the humming and yet I can’t see a thing, which gets fainter as if the shadows are fading away. I still can’t see anything because of the infernal light, and I feel a sharp pain in my arm before sliding into oblivion.
* * *
The next time I wake,I’m in a different position. This time I’m face down on what appears to be a slab of concrete. My wrists and ankles are cuffed in metal and this time my eyes are obscured by a blindfold that is tight around my head.
