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I peer down at my gross attire, wishing I could take a hot shower and wash away the events from the last twenty-four hours. It's challenging to keep my head on straight when I feel soiled and uncomfortable.
I'll do it for you, little one. With one hand resting over my belly, I breathe deeply and almost instantly regret it when the smell of waste reaches my nostrils. I gag, barely keeping myself from vomiting.
What I wouldn't give for some fresh air.
“Soon.” I rub at my still-flat belly. “Soon, this will all be a distant memory.”
I do whatever I can to think happy thoughts, but the minutes tick by slowly, and soon all I'm left with are the memories of what took place in that warehouse. I blink back the fresh tears forming in my eyes. I'm tired, so very tired, in every way possible. Sleep evaded me last night, and all I could do was stare at the strip of light under the door, dreading the possibility of a shadow darkening it again, wondering who would come for me next and if they were going to hurt me to send a message to Callum. There's still that possibility hanging over my head. The longer it takes for him to give Jack what he wants, the more frustrated and desperate Jack will become. Thus the more strained his temper will get, and the thinner his patience with me will be.
In the end, Callum will never give him what he wants. Men like Callum don't back down. Jack all but stole the queen chess piece off his board. To Callum, this is much more than business. This is personal, a declaration of war.
I don't know how much time passes, but soon the lock to the door clicks again. I glance at the bag of fast food that sits untouched on my cot. Lunch, they called it. The fries were so old they'd gone hard by the time they reached me. Breakfast wasn't too bad, a foil-wrapped sandwich that was still warm, so I'm not too eager to eat. At least not yet, although I get the feeling it isn't dinner that they'll be delivering.
I expect one of Jack's men to come walking through the door, but I'm surprised to find the snake himself. The expression I give him is dissatisfaction at best. He's in yet another suit, his polished shoes so shiny I can practically see my reflection in them. Suddenly I feel even dirtier.
“I hear you were desperate to have my attention for a few minutes.” His nose wrinkles, his gaze sweeping the room. “Rather unpleasant of a smell in here, isn't it?”
“Yeah, the second I got a whiff of it, the only thing I could think of was you.”
His icy eyes gleam like a kid's on Christmas morning, like he's enjoying this, while his thin lips twist into a vindictive grin as he takes a step closer to me. My heart stutters, and for one terrified second, I'm sure he's going to hurt me–his hands are balled up into tight fists, and he's preparing to strike. There's nobody here to stop him from taking his hate for Callum out on my body and nobody to tell him he's taken it too far.
Fear slithers down my back, but I swallow it down and steel my spine, forcing myself to look forward, while holding my chin high. I want to cross my arms over my head and brace myself for what's coming, but I will not give him the satisfaction of watching me cower. He snorts softly after dragging the tension out for moments that might as well be an eternity. “I can see why Torrio is so smitten with you. Some men enjoy a sharp-tongued bitch to tell them all the things they secretly think about themselves.”
“Are we talking about you, or Callum?”
His smile widens, and though the satisfaction in my chest builds, I know I'm skating on very thin ice. “Keep it up, girl. You'll soon learn I don't shy away from hurting women who deserve it.”
“Oh, I believe that.”
“Is the food I'm providing you not good enough?” He tosses a dirty look at the guard, who slipped in behind him, the same one who watched me pee earlier. “It's rather disrespectful not to eat what is given to you, don't you think?”
“It's ice cold and looks like somebody scraped it off the floor of their car.”
“Do I need to remind you how important it is that you eat?”
I know how important it is, but this is my only way of fighting back. I can't thank them for the tiny scraps they give me. Maybe it's stupid, being this stubborn, but it's all I have. “By all means, take a look at it and tell me if you think any of it is edible. It was just as bad when it got here as it is now.”
“Go ahead, keep this little charade up as long as you like. Starve yourself for all I care, but soon, you'll discover this isn't a joke. I'm willing to do anything I have to do to reach my end goal. When it comes time for us to leave this place, we'll take you elsewhere. I can keep this going for months—until your baby is born, even.”
I grit my teeth against the simmering, indignant rage burning a hole in my stomach.How dare he?I can't lash out. I can't show him the anger because losing control also means risking the fear coming forward. I won't do that. He won't get the satisfaction.
All I can do is concentrate on keeping my face blank and my voice flat. It takes everything in me to keep from shaking as he studies me. “We both know this won't be going on that long,” I mutter through clenched teeth.
Cocking his head to the side, he inspects me like a bug under a microscope, “Do we? Eventually, you're going to figure out this wasn't a decision made on the spur of the moment. We could leave this very minute, and any work Callum has done to locate you would be for nothing. I could move you again and again, from location to location, and there is nothing you, or even him, could do about it.”
He's telling the truth. I know it, and can feel it in every word he speaks. He didn't go through all this trouble for nothing. He moves closer until his polished shoes nearly touch my feet, and I force the fear down until it's nothing more than a tight knot in my belly. I don't know everything. However, I do know he needs me, alive and well, if he intends to get whatever it is he wants from Callum, and I hold onto that knowledge knowing it'll keep me alive.
“Make no mistake, I'll take that baby from you the moment it draws its first breath, and you'll never set eyes on it. You'll never know what happened to it, and you'll get to spend the rest of your pathetic life wondering and worrying.”
My chest is so tight, I can hardly breathe. Panic snakes around my body, tightening around my ribs until I'm sure the pressure will crack them. “He's going to kill you for this,” I whisper, looking up at the man looming over me. “I hope you know that, you worthless piece of shit.”
Any last hint of the human mask he wears slides away to reveal the cold lizard underneath. “Don't think I'm above closing your mouth the same way I closed your friend's.” As if on cue, the man standing at his elbow cracks his knuckles.
Stupidity is what I would call my next move, but I'm already past my breaking point. A bubble of laughter escapes my lips. It's the most bizarre, unthinkable reaction possible, but there's no helping or taking it back once it's out.
“I'm sorry,” I manage before another laugh bursts out of me. “It's just... What is this? Did somebody script that for you? And you,” I add, waving a hand to the thug. “How many times did you practice cracking your knuckles to get it to happen just like that?”
Jack nods only once, and like magic, pain explodes across the left side of my face. The force of the slap makes my head snap to the side, and I cover my cheek with my hand—it's hot, burning, followed by the acidic taste of blood in my mouth. I shouldn't do it. Shouldn't say anything else, but I never did know how to keep my mouth shut.
