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Breathing deeply, I pulled my hand upward as hard and quickly as I could, and I immediately felt a sharp pain in my hand. I bit my lip as I tried not to scream aloud. I’d had enough give in the cuffs to pull my fingers through, but I was sure that I had broken a finger or a wrist.
My chest heaved, and I nearly vomited as pain sliced through me. I breathed through my nose as I tried to clear my mind.
My eyes shifted around the room looking for a way out. Sure, my hands were free, but I suspected that O’Connor wasn’t just going to leave the door unlocked for me to walk out. And even if he did, I didn’t know what I would be walking out into.
When Nikolai tried to kill me, I’d ignored every single one of my instincts. They’d all told me that Nikolai wanted me dead, but I’d ignored them, and it had only been a miracle that I had survived.
Things were different now. I knew O’Connor was dangerous, and he’d already proven what he would do to me. My body shook with exhaustion and pain, and I tried my best to try and center myself and remember everything that I had learned growing up as a Bratva brat.
I needed to wait until O’Connor returned, even though the thought made my heart race and my stomach curdle. O’Connor didn’t know it, but he was going to be my best shot at getting out of here.
* * *
I didn’t have to wait long for O’Connor to return. For a while I was worried that he was just going to leave me in the room for the night, bleeding and in pain. But he didn’t.
He stormed into the dirty room puffed up like a peacock, and I couldn’t wait to take him down a few pegs.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
I snorted. “Are you serious?”
I was certain that he didn’t care about how I was feeling. Men like him enjoyed inflicting pain on others.
O’Connor reached out. His meaty fingers cupped my cheek, and I tried not to flinch at the caress. Something told me that he wouldn’t take kindly to that.
“Your boyfriend’s about to make an announcement on the 11 o’clock news.”
My eyes widened. First, because I was shocked that it was so late, but also, because it meant that Ezra was doing the exact opposite of what he should be doing. “He’s not going to concede,” I said.
O’Connor walked over to an old, box television in the corner. He turned it on, and for a moment, I wondered if the fuzzy screen was even going to work. “Ezra is a smart man,” he said. “If he doesn’t concede, I’ll just have to up the stakes. Maybe next time I’ll send him one of your pretty eyes.”
I gulped. I didn’t like the sound of that, but I wasn’t just going to turn over and show my belly. Ezra couldn’t give up his dream. No matter what. We’d done too much to get here. I had sacrificed my freedom to get him to the mayor’s office, and I wasn’t going to allow a thug like Patrick O’Connor to take that away.
“This should be interesting,” O’Connor said. He crossed his arms, and a small smirk appeared on his face. Some of the fingers on my left hand had to be broken, so I knew that if it came down to it, that hand was likely going to be useless. But my right hand was good to go.
O’Connor turned to look at me, and I felt a pit forming in my stomach. Something told me that no matter what happened next, that O’Connor was not going to let me out of here unharmed. He couldn’t. I’d seen his face, and he would be worried that I would go to the police.
The thought sent a shiver down my spine, and I felt as though I were transported back to the woods last year. I’d followed Nikolai blindly to my death, but if O’Connor thought that he was going to be able to get rid of me, he was going to find himself biting off more than he could chew.
“It’s starting,” O’Connor said, glee in his voice. I was expecting him to start clapping his hands together.
My attention turned towards the television, and I felt my heart speed up as I saw Ezra’s handsome face on the screen. He was dressed in a dark blue suit, which brought out the color of his eyes, and if I hadn’t known him so well, I would have missed the exhaustion in his face.
On the outside, he looked calm and collected, like he was about to try a case that he knew he was going to win, but there were signs that he was nervous. His fingers were turning around his watch, a nervous habit that I’d noticed when we went to visit his mother.
“Good evening,” he said, his voice strong. I closed my eyes allowing the sound of it to wash over me knowing that it might be the last time that I ever heard it. “As many of you know, this year, I decided to run for Mayor. Unlike my counterpart, I don’t think I ever got on and told the city about why I wanted to be the mayor of this city that I love so much.”
I felt myself moving to the edge of my seat, my eyes just as glued on the TV as O’Connor. We were both waiting to see what Ezra would say. So far, it felt like it could go either way. Maybe he was doing what O’Connor wanted, or maybe, he was calling his bluff.
Either way, I knew that I needed to be ready to make a move. I was only going to get one chance.
“When I was a teenager, my father was gunned down on the steps of this building,” my heart squeezed. I knew that recounting the story of his father was not something that Ezra had ever wanted to do.
“Christ,” O’Connor said. He turned to me, and the movement pulled his jacket away from his torso. “Is he planning to play the victim card?”
“Didn’t you?” I asked. I could feel my anger growing. “You used your brother to bolster your own campaign.”
O’Connor’s eyes darkened, and I knew I’d hit a nerve. Ezra was still talking, but I didn’t spend too much time focusing on it.
