Page 142 of Beauty in the Broken


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I’m halfway down the hill, my thoughts heavy, when Brink calls. Unease seeps into my gut. Something’s wrong. He wouldn’t otherwise call me in Switzerland. Just as I swipe the button to accept the call, the line cuts.

My unease explodes into full-blown panic. I start to run even as I dial Maze.

His tone isn’t reassuring. “Damian, where are you?”

“Abroad. Brink called, but we got cut off.”

“I know. You’ve got to catch the next flight back.”

I stop. My heart thuds like a bull in a matador ring. “What happened?”

“Lina’s been taken.”

Chapter 23

Lina

This can’t be happening. Not again.

Blindfolded, I’m lying on my stomach on a hard, cold surface. My hands and feet are tied. I’m shaking from the shock. My cheek throbs where it was smashed against the window when my kidnapper threw me into the van, and my hipbones feel bruised from being knocked around as the vehicle skid around the bends. It’s cold, but I’m sweating. The perspiration makes my scraped palms burn.

Lifting my shoulders off the floor, I try again. “Where am I?”

So far, no one has replied to my question. There are two people in the room. I only saw the face of the one who grabbed me. He pulled a bag over my head before I could make out the face of the driver, and he replaced the bag with a blindfold before leading me from the van. We climbed stairs for what felt like forever, until my lungs burned from the exertion, before reaching the floor where they’re keeping me. It was especially difficult with the blindfold. I still feel the toll of the effort on my legs.

“Who’s there?” I ask.

I can make out my kidnappers’ distinctive footsteps when they move. The man who took me wears shoes with rubber soles. They squeak when he walks. The other is a flat heel that falls hard, like a man’s dress shoes.

“Can I please have some water?”

“Take off her blindfold.”

I freeze. That voice. Oh, my God. A gulf of anger eradicates my fear.

Someone hauls me up by my arm. A sharp pain shoots through my hip when I put my weight on my legs. I try to find my footing and limp when he lets go. When the blindfold comes off, I’m already beyond my shock. I only have disgust left for the man facing me. Harold looks alarmingly well, a far cry from the disheveled man I saw in Brixton. He wears an expensive suit and shoes. He had a haircut, and he’s freshly shaved. We’re in a circular room. The view makes me gasp. We’re even higher up than I thought. Yellow mine dumps stretch into the distance. Johannesburg. From the scattered and broken furniture, I gather the place is abandoned.

I glance behind me at the man who pulled me to my feet. He’s the one who took me at the mall.

“Where’s Brink?”

“He’ll live,” the man says.

“What did you do to him?”

“Stun gun.”

I turn back to Harold. “Damian is going to kill you.”

“If he had any intelligence,” Harold says, “he would’ve killed me the day he got out of prison.”

“That’s what vengeance does to you,” the man says. “It clouds your good judgment.”

“Who are you?”

He drags his tongue over his teeth. “Someone who’ll get a big cut of the profit pie.”

“What’s the meaning of this?” I ask Harold.

“Told you the last word will be mine.”

“What do you want?”

“What’s mine.”

“What’s that supposed to be?”

The man pulls a chair closer and pushes me so hard onto it my teeth clack.

“The mine and evidence in exchange for you,” Harold says. “Sweet deal, no?”

“You can’t be serious. The only reason Damian married me was to acquire that mine. You’re dreaming if you think he’ll give it up for me.”

Harold grins. “Apparently, he values you more than the mine. He’s already agreed to my terms.”

My mouth drops open. “How’s this supposed to happen?”

“Wait and see, Angelina.”

Is Damian bluffing about giving up the mine and evidence? No, he never bluffs. A startling insight hits me. He could’ve used the evidence to clear his name and win back his mine, but he didn’t. He used it to get me. It’s never been about my inheritance. He chose me over the chance of clearing his criminal record. Hope swells with love in my chest.

He’ll find me. I refuse to lose him now. I’m suddenly overwhelmed by his foresight to plant a tracker in me. What had seemed like a punishment at the time turns out to be the biggest blessing of my life. It’s going to be all right. It has to be.

“When Damian finds me, you’re going to die.”

“We destroyed your phone,” the man says. “No one is going to find you.”

He doesn’t know how wrong he is. The question is, will Damian find me in time?

Damian

A car is waiting for me when the plane touches down. The driver throws my bag in the trunk and holds the door. I duck to get inside and pause. Russell sits in the back.

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