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His hand shook, practically waving the gun at me by the end of his instructions, and he shouted as if I couldn’t hear him.
As though, if he got louder, I’d have to listen to him. “And you’re going to shoot me? Your sister? To make me go somewhere with you? It’s go with you or die?”
“Dad said you were better off dead if you didn’t play ball. If you won’t come, he said to put you out of your misery. He’ll do the same to me if I don’t succeed.”
I should’ve known. It made so much sense, learning my father was behind the whole mess. Justin wouldn’t know how to find me on his own, and he likely wouldn’t be armed. But having my father involved made it an even more dangerous scenario for me.
My dad owned Justin and always had. He held the purse strings, and Justin’s addictions benefited my dad in some ways. It kept Justin doing what my dad wanted so that he could keep getting money.
It took me far too long to really comprehend the way things worked, but I wasn’t smart about relationships, since they usually just confused the heck out of me. Still, I knew what it was like to be used—my father had taught me at a very young age, although Justin apparently didn’t see through him.
Of course, I couldn’t imagine what he was getting from Justin, with him pale, strung out, and clearly half-dead.
“Where are we going? What does he want?” Trying to buy time was a little ridiculous, but it was the best idea I could come up with under the circumstances. I knew going to a secondary location would be very bad news for me, although I wasn’t a heroine in a movie who could rush my brother and yank the gun out of his hand. I wouldn’t even have the slightest idea what to do with it if I managed to get it away from him in the first place. I’d taken a year of kickboxing, but I didn’t think it had prepared me to disarm a person hopped up on drugs and willing to kill me.
Justin wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead with his free hand, the gun still waving wildly in the other. “Russia. We have to get back to Dad in Russia. Now, Bridget. He needs you.”
“Why does he want us? Layla and Hope have husbands.” I didn’t know if Justin and my dad knew about the kids, and I didn’t intend to bring it up to give them future potential kidnapping targets. They knew about Max and Zeke, so husbands were a safe subject, and a reminder that my sisters had married tough men with connections that could make things difficult for my dad and Justin. “We heard the hit was off our heads.”
He waved that free hand again, the gun jostling into my arm and away. I’d feel bad for him, if he wasn’t trying to kill me. He replied, “He doesn’t want them. Let them live their ridiculous lives with their husbands, he said. They don’t care about us anyway, and he’s right. He only wants you. Now, are you going to come, or am I going to kill you?” The gun focused on me again, and he closed one eye.
My body went cold.Those are my two choices. I was alone with my brother, and he would willingly end my life. A pair of dark eyes flooded my vision before the moment passed.If ever I needed a reminder I’m alone because of my own actions, this is the lesson.I’d chosen it, I reminded myself. Michael could have taken the gun from Justin, and then I could have kissed him senseless for saving my life—not that I knew what that would’ve been like.
I’m going to die in Russia never having experienced a passion like that, not with Michael or anyone else. My life had been unremarkable in every way.Here lies Bridget, whodied after living a lukewarm life.
Unless I didn’t die. If I somehow alerted someone to what was happening…I remembered leaving my phone in the kitchen, but I figured there was no way he’d let me get it. The phone wasn’t my only option, though, thanks to Michael and the men he’d hired to watch over us.
“I need to pee,” I blurted, hoping he wouldn’t think my timing was weird. I couldn’t come up with any other way to get into my bathroom.
He seemed to consider my statement, looking between the bathroom and me several times before he answered. Sweat pooled between my breasts as the gun continued to wave at my face and chest. Finally, he almost shrieked, “Fine! Don’t try anything. If you go out the window, I’m coming after you.”
Before I could stop myself, I rolled my eyes. “I’m scared of you, Justin, but not enough to throw myself out a ten-story window. I’m not spider-woman, and I can’t fly.”
His mouth twitched for just a second as if he might smile before it fell. The flash was my brother in there, though—his sardonic sense of humor. As quickly as I saw it, it vanished as if it hadn’t been there at all, the flickering visit from the ghost of the man he’d been. “Hurry up. Dad is waiting. I can’t leave him waiting,” he said, dancing from foot to foot impatiently.
I rushed into the bathroom and closed the door. For a couple of seconds, I couldn’t do more than whimper and lean on the door. I needed to focus. I sucked in a breath before scrubbing my eyes with my fists. I had stuff stored around the house, right? Phones—I had no idea if they were still active. Maybe they were all disconnected when they deemed us safe, but they were the only hope I had. I remembered how they worked—not for phone calls, but for a button on an app which would trigger all the cameras in my apartment to record. The phones were part of the deal I’d made with Michael’s men, since I didn’t want them watching my every move inside my home. I wanted privacy and felt I’d come up with a reasonable compromise between security and secrecy.
If I could punch past me in the face for wanting privacy, I would, if it meant I’d know someone watched over me right then.
I pushed the button and placed the phone back in the drawer by the sink. For good measure, even though I didn’t really have to go, I peed, just in case Justin was listening.
He banged on the door. “Hurry up in there, Bridget.”
We could’ve been twelve and thirteen again in that moment, based on my impulsive need to shout back and tell him to hold his horses while shutting the fuck up. Instead, though, he was a man on drugs who held me at gunpoint, and I wasn’t twelve.
I felt about as emotionally ready to deal with the circumstances as a child, anyway.
I took my time washing my hands, hoping to stall as long as possible.Let the cameras catch Justin with the gun.
If anyone is even looking.Maybe they weren’t. I couldn’t think about the possibility, not when it held my only hope. I walked out of the bathroom, stuffing my hands in my pockets to hide their shaking.
I blurted, “I’m scared, so I want to be sure I understand things completely. You are taking me, by gunpoint, to Russia? To our father?”
He nodded, and he kept his voice low and somewhat soothing when he spoke. “Yes. Come on, Bridget.”
“Or you’ll kill me, because if I don’t come, what will happen to me will be worse.”
“Now.” He motioned toward the door, and I started walking. Hopefully, the cameras caught all of that. Did they even record sound? I wasn’t sure. I stepped into the hallway then waited and followed him to the elevator. Why hadn’t I picked a building with a doorman? I could have; it wasn’t like I couldn’t afford it. So why hadn’t I gone for the extra security?How would your drugged up brother kidnap you, if you’d spent the extra money on security, silly?
