In The Present
Tony looked up at me, pale as fuck, as Marco and Vanni joined us, but he didn’t take his eyes off of me as they took their seats in his office. I’d been on my way in when he’d bellowed for his brother, but his attention had been pulled to his phone, and then he’d gone several shades lighter in an instant.
I didn’t want him to say it. If he kept his fucking mouth shut, I wouldn’t have to hear whatever news he had to deliver. My head shook even as he opened his mouth.
“He has her,” Tony stated simply. I knew the ‘he’ was my father, and the ‘her’ was Eden. He didn’t have to spell it out. As red began to creep into my vision, loss and rage mixing to form something toxic and deadly, Tony tried to forestall the freak-out we both knew was coming. “She’s alive, and my father has a meeting with Rodrigo to get her back. We’ll bring her home, Santos.” But none of it mattered. We both knew she wouldn’t be safe, not with him. And for sure not after he discovered she had a new surname. It was only a matter of time before the license was processed and the rumors began to flow.
* * *
Eden
My hands shook as I drank water straight from the showerhead. Part of it was due to hunger after no longer being used to the twisting pains and vacillating blood sugar levels starving caused. My last meal had been late afternoon yesterday, not that I’d been able to eat much. But the other part was the fact that after I’d eventually fallen asleep, I’d been woken up to Rodrigo pinning me down on my stomach before he roughly fucked me from behind while he told me of his plans for today. Afterward, insomnia had struck, joining the sick feeling his words and touch had left behind.
With my hands tied to the post of the headboard, I was unable to get up. Regardless, I was afraid to move after he’d dared me to wipe his seed away. So I laid there, tears flowing silently down my cheeks, soaking the pillow as my promise to the guys played through my head on repeat.
Eventually, I got my crying under control, but that didn’t change the fact that I was trapped with a sadistic, rapist asshole, only able to watch as the time ticked by, one red number on the digital alarm clock at a time. Finally, the alarm clicked on, a harsh buzzing waking Rodrigo from his snoring slumber. He got up with a groan, stretching as he went to take a piss. The stream hitting the water, loud in the otherwise silent room, prompted my bladder to let it be known that it too needed to relieve itself. But first I had to suffer through Rodrigo coming back, stroking his morning wood before he climbed between my legs to rut into me again. I’d turned my head, trying to ignore that it was him on me, when he slapped my face and made me watch as he grunted his way to completion.
He’d left me there, dripping with his cum, while he showered, then untied me and told me to do the same.
I did my best to scrub him from my body, desperately hoping that he hadn’t gotten me pregnant and trying to figure out how to warn the guys without access to a phone.
* * *
My chance came when Detective Fields was sent to babysit me until I was called for. Rodrigo wanted all hands on deck for the meeting between him and both the Carotti and Finelli Family leaders. I wasn’t sure how well that was going to go with Peter having defected, but I hoped he lost his fucking head over it.
I stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, to find Fields waiting for me.
“What the fuck do you want? Come to take your poke at the pie?” I snarled at him, wanting to do him some serious bodily harm.
He held out a piece of black fabric, guilt-ridden but silent, until I stalked across the floor and jerked it from his hand. Not caring that he was in the room, I dropped the towel and pulled the tube-dress over my head. Of course there wasn’t any fucking underwear, but at least my boots were salvageable.
“So, are you going to explain or just hide your face like a pearl-clutching twat when confronted with a pair of boobs?” I didn’t wait for his reply, going in search of something to brush my hair. Unless I could get to the dressing room or have someone bring cosmetics up, there wasn’t much I could do with my face or the bruises and road rash dotting my exposed skin. Searching the bathroom had only turned up a bunch of Danny’s shit dumped into boxes, but deodorant was deodorant to me—better than smelling like Rodrigo.
Having done what I could, I went back out to stare at the detective until he found his tongue.
“I’m sorry, Eden. This is not what I meant to happen. Here, call your men. I’ve had a hell of a time keeping them out of police custody. I can only radio in so many false reports before I’ll be sitting next to them in a cell.” He sounded sincere enough, and he was holding a phone out, but I worried that it was a trap.
Danny hadn’t kept surveillance in his rooms. Out in the hall, yes, but not anywhere he spent a lot of private time. Since Fields was being seemingly candid, I could only hope that Rodrigo hadn’t changed the practice–not that they really had anything left to threaten me with if they caught me. The room was windowless, so I was essentially stuck unless I could get past my guard, which further reinforced my thinking that it was safe enough to speak plainly. I also didn’t think we’d been left a way out. Rodrigo wasn’t the type to leave things to chance. I doubted we’d make it very far even if I could convince Fields to get me out of there.
“What are you getting out of this, Detective? You have to admit, you’ve played all the sides beautifully, or at least competently enough since you’re still in the game and free to move about.” I took the phone he’d offered, but I held on to it until he answered me.
“Let’s just say I have some personal beef with the parties involved and leave it at that, please,” he evaded before clamming up again.
Not wanting to waste any more time, I took the cell into the bathroom, turned on the water in the sink and shower, and locked the door. I didn’t know how well it would cover my voice or if the call would be recorded, but it was the best I could do under the circumstances.
Then I had the dilemma of who to call. Vinnie was out as far as I was concerned, likely already on his way to the meeting anyway, and I needed the guys to be at home, where they were safe. I finally settled on calling Marco, the most level-headed of the four.
It rang for so long that I worried he wouldn’t answer, and when his voice came on the line, it wasn’t his voicemail.
“Why the fuck are you calling me, Fields?” Well, he’s the most level-headed of the four, not in general.
“I don’t have long, and I need you to listen.”
“Edie? Oh, thank fuck, he got you out. Are you okay? Where are you? We’ll meet you.” The relief in his voice hurt my heart, knowing that I had to tell him that I wasn’t free. Not yet. But the others must have been with him as their voices came through the speaker in spurts and starts until Santos won the argument.
“Angel, baby, tell us where you are,” he demanded, with Marco bitching at him that he’d just fucking asked that while Tony cursed at someone for not using a turn signal.
“Why are you out of the house?! Get home now, Santos!” I did my best to keep my voice down, but I was panicked. When Fields had talked about keeping them out of jail, I’d assumed they’d gone home, where they really needed to be. Fucking should have known that they wouldn’t stay put, not that I could blame them. What a goddamned clusterfuck.