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Dahlia flicked open her eyes and immediately shivered. Nothing made sense, especially the draft coming in through her room. She’d gotten the window fixed. As she pushed up from the hard surface, the scent was the first indicator she wasn’t in her bedroom. It was damp and musty with another scent, she couldn’t quite place.
Her head was pounding, and her neck was sore, but she found the energy to look at the cramped space. Where the fuck am I?
It was a room she’d never been inside of, with only a dirty mattress shoved in the corner and an old wooden chair. Dahlia trembled, and for the first time, she noticed she’d been stripped down to her bra and panties. Fear ran through her, and she scrambled to her feet only to get lightheaded. She reached out, grabbing hold of the window sill to steady herself. Holy fuck!
Her brain went into immediate overdrive as she tried to retrace her steps, but the panic was heavy as she whipped her head, looking around the room.
She remembered stopping at an old abandoned parking lot in Grove Mill. Someone had alerted her to a possible issue with her car. When she pulled over, she couldn’t remember anyone following her, but they had. A sharp object to the side of her head and severe pain was the last thing she could recall before waking up minutes ago.
Oh my God. I’m so fucked. Dahlia steadied herself and tiptoed across the room but stilled when the door swung open. Three men stood in the hallway, peering in. She recognized Sean. The other two seemed familiar, but she couldn’t place them. The one closest to Sean seemed concerned but not surprised. The other man was in full shock, which quickly escalated to anger. He jerked his head to Sean and the other guy.
Sean held up his hands. “Murphy, let me explain the plan.”
“What fucking plan? To get us all fucking killed?”
Sean pointed into the room. “To get the deal back in place. Just hear me out. Me and Nick figured if we had something to bargain with, Trey and Rogue would have to reinstate the deal. We can trade her.”
Trade me?
“Do you have any idea what you’ve just fucking done?” Murphy shouted, clearly frustrated.
Nick stepped forward. “It’s a solid plan, man. If they want her back, they’ll work with us.”
Dahlia had the feeling that Sean and Nick weren’t seeing the severity of what they’d done, nor did they fully understand how the Underground worked. But clearly, Murphy did.
“Are you really this fucking stupid? You can’t fucking bargain with Trey and Rogue. They’re not gonna reinstate anything. They’re gonna kill us. Fuck.” Murphy went silent, then spoke again. “I’m calling Stark. Do not fucking move.”
There was a small stretch of silence until he spoke again. Murphy gave a complete rundown and a few details Dahlia hadn’t remembered.
Murphy slowly turned his head, looking into the room.
“She can identify Sean, sir.”
Dahlia could, and she would if given the chance. Murphy nodded, and a minute later, he hung up.
“What did he say?” Sean asked.
“He’s coming down here.”
“See?” Sean said.
Murphy snapped. “See fucking what? Stark ain’t coming down here to try and make a deal ’cause he knows they won’t. Fuck!”
“I was trying to make it right.”
“All you fucking did was seal her fate and sign her death certificate.” Murphy pointed through the doorway directly at her. “He’s coming down here to clean up your fucking mess, but she’s as good as dead.”
A chill ran through her body and pebbled her skin. As good as dead.
Sean glanced into the room, his gaze pinned on her. She waited to see some type of remorse or regret in his eyes. Dahlia saw nothing. He carelessly shrugged, reaching for the doorknob and pulled the door closed.
Her body was numb. She couldn’t even feel the ache in her joints or the pain from her injuries. Her body was on the brink of shock at the realization that they were going to kill her to cover their tracks.
Dahlia stumbled back, and she felt the blood draining from her face. Dahlia quickly glanced around the room, looking for anything to use as a weapon. She was officially in survival mode. Unfortunately, unless she planned on striking the man with the chair or smothering him with the mattress, her options were limited.
Fuck!
Before she could come up with another plan, the door creaked and opened. She was now face to face with her would-be killer and no match for the gun gripped tightly in his palm. Murphy made no attempt to advance, but his intention was clear. Dahlia immediately held up her hands.
