No windows. No light except what came from under the door. A toilet in the corner. And that was it.
As my stomach cramped and my body shook, I embraced the symptoms. Withdrawal was a bitch, but it meant the drug was leaving my system. It meant I’d survived the blackout.
Those moments on my own lasted for hours, maybe for a whole day. I know I went to the bathroom, that I crawled around the four walls to confirm my surroundings, that I moaned in pain as I rubbed at the injection site.
Still, I tried not to dwell. Coping with my failures gave my mind something I could control. I focused on the kidnapping, on how they spoke Albanian, on how they came for me. It proved I was close to something; it proved they were doing something illegal, and the only thing I’d found lately was what I’d dug into on my computer at work.
Albanians were rigging the election, and this confirmed it.
Now I had to determine exactly how they were doing it, then get the hell out of there before they killed me. I didn’t know which part would be harder.
Yet, when the first guy walked in hours later, I figured I might actually be able to pull it off.
Alteo wasn’t a very smart man, although he was massive. He smiled, showing crooked teeth, as he saw me sitting up in the corner. “Oh, good. You woke up, huh? My boss was very nervous you would die.”
I lifted an eyebrow. That was confirmation they didn’t want me dead. “Yes. You could have killed me. Why didn’t you?”
He waved away the question and brought me a plate of food. It was just chips and a hot dog, but even though my stomach growled, I didn’t take it.
“Oh, please eat.” He shoved the plate my way after he placed it on the ground. “If we wanted you dead, you would be, right? So what would I put in your food?”
I pointed to the injection site on my arm. And a wave of sadness hit. Nine years was a long time to earn back. No one knew how proud I was of it, but I did. It was a painful thing to think about. Painful and unfair. I’d thought about relapsing before, but at least then it would have been my own choice.
“So.” He cleared his throat like he was embarrassed. “That was to help. To calm you down, huh? My friend shouldn’t have done that. Let’s forget about it.”
The man looked ashamed, and I instantly wanted to smack him. “Forget about it? Do you know it took me nine years to get clean?”
He winced and curled up in a big meaty, muscle ball, like he was more wounded than I was. “Look, don’t tell my dad. If you do, we’re going to get into serious trouble, okay? We’re already getting too many questions.”
So, he was reporting to his father. I was back in undercover mode, back to surviving, even if I had to bury every emotion I felt right then.
He sighed. “Can you just tell me—are you an Untouchable? We weren’t given that information. And we’ve received a call. We thought you were merely a Stonewood employee and it would be a quick fix to get rid of you.”
An Untouchable. It was a high status within the mob. In the Armanelli family. When a woman married in, no other family—Albanian, Russian, Italian, Serbian—could touch them. It meant death. It meant war and pain and wrath from every other family.
I chewed on my cheek and rubbed at the injection site. I needed a plan, and the plan was going to be what he’d just given me. “You know my sister became an Untouchable not too long ago. She’s my twin. You must have known that. And you must know how quickly things happen when families are intertwined...”
His eyes widened. “I don’t keep track. This was my first big job. I needed to eliminate election threats, and we’ve been doing that all over the country. And now we got someone hacking our systems—I can’t be responsible for that.” He looked panicked, like he’d been saddled with the worst luck.
Hope blossomed when he said there was hacking going on. Cade had to know I was here. But was I worth the risk? I shrugged at the man sitting next to me, not willing to give anything away.
“Damn it,” he grumbled before leaving the room. The door slammed shut, and I stared at the food.
My hand twisted over the bracelet Cade had bought me, still clean and shiny on my wrist. Did he care for me enough to come? To look for me? I felt a desperation for him then that I hadn’t before. I wanted to see him one last time, tell him how I cared for him, how it wasn’t just fun. Life and death situations would do that to a person.
I wanted to be reckless even if I was afraid to be. Recklessness had got me in trouble before. It was how I got my first taste of drugs. And then, because with them, my mind didn’t worry, didn’t stray into feeling like I was doing anything wrong. Then Vincent found me and told me he loved me.
So, I found myself doing anything and everything for him. Therapy would show me later that I was young, easily coerced, easily preyed upon. So many young girls had suffered the same fate, but it didn’t mean we were to blame, it didn’t mean I had to let my relationship with Vincent define me.
Guilt and shame can envelope and suffocate a soul, but we don’t have to let it. Cade showed me that. He let me breathe, let me be who I truly was. I promised myself if I got out of here, I’d thank him for that.
I growled in frustration at my predicament and grabbed the water they’d given me with the food. I chugged half of it, and my body rejoiced at getting something.
Another man walked in and I scrambled up to face him. He’d been the one who’d stuck me with a needle. His dirty jeans and ripped shirt showed how well he took care of himself. He hadn’t even washed his face where I’d scratched him because the blood was still caked under it.
“My boss isn’t sure what to do with you.” His meaty hand dragged across my jawline as he got within a few feet of me. “I told him I could get answers out of you quick.”
“I’m not sure what answers you want.” I shrugged, not shrinking back at his touch.