Page 6

Chapter 5

“And then the aliens fed me Cheez-Its before dropping me back on Earth,” Rodrigo said.

“Umhmm, that’s nice,” I murmured before what he said registered. I snapped my head toward him. “Wait, what?”

My longtime friend and confidant chuckled as he piloted the helicopter through the dark Louisiana sky. “Just seeing if you were paying attention. You weren’t, by the way.”

“Damn. Did I miss the part where you got an anal probe?” I asked, amusement pulling me from my thoughts.

“I declined that particular procedure,” he quipped, maneuvering the control wheel to bank us slightly to the south. “You want to tell me what’s going on that’s got you so distracted?”

A puff of breath left me on a sigh. “I’m just not thrilled about this… assignment .” That last word curled into a sneer.

Rodrigo’s eyes darted toward the back where a plastic bag of chains, straps, handcuffs, and tape sat on an empty seat. “Who are we picking up?”

“A girl.” But she was more than a girl. She may be young, but she was a woman. A feisty woman that had fascinated me with a set of blue eyes and rebellious middle fingers. “He bought her.”

His head jerked back, and his mouth turned down in disgust. “Dear god. What the fuck?”

“Fi is going to talk to Leo and see if he’ll set Luca straight on this. He’s the only one who can control him. Hopefully, by the time I’ve gotten her, our directive will have changed and we can get her back to her family.”

Rod shook his head. “I need to fucking retire from this shit.”

“You should. Spend some time with that new granddaughter of yours.”

The man’s eyes lit up like the Fourth of July in the dim light of the cockpit. “She’s such an angel. I’m her favorite person, you know.”

“I have no doubt, Rod. Tell me more about her.” And distract me from the task that lies ahead of me tonight.

After a couple refueling stops, we landed at a private airstrip north of New Orleans, and I stepped out of the chopper and into the muggy night air, my ears still buzzing from the noise.

“Damiano, my boy!”

I did my best not to roll my eyes. Guido Conte—or cunty , as I liked to call him—was twenty-seven years old, only two years older than me, but he always insisted on calling me my boy like he was my grandpa or some shit. In a pale-blue velvety tracksuit, an overextended belly, and gold chains around his neck, he looked every bit the low-level mobster he was.

“Guido,” I greeted shortly. I hated this fucker.

He began unloading the bags from the helicopter and placing them in the black sedan that was waiting on the tarmac for me. “I’m putting the money bags in the trunk. Where do you want this?” he asked, holding up the bag of restraints.

“Toss them in the trunk too. I won’t need them.” Hopefully.

He eyed me curiously before doing as I asked. “I put the address to the location in the GPS, as well as the address where you’ll be staying tonight. It’s a safe house we keep here.”

“I thought we were flying back tonight,” I protested.

“Naw, Luca wants Rodrigo to get some sleep. Otherwise, he’ll be over on his flight hours, according to the FAA. You’ll leave in the morning.”

My father would buy an actual human being, but god forbid he break Federal Aviation Administration rules. Mafia morals.

Grabbing my leather Nike go-bag from the helicopter, I placed it in the backseat of the sedan. I never went on an assignment without it.

“Fine. What time are we leaving in the morning?”

“Eight sharp.” Then he cast a leering grin my way. “Don’t have too much fun with the new… acquisition and oversleep.”

My fingers twitched, wanting to reach for the pistol hidden beneath my finely cut gray suit. I may be a lot of things—most of them bad—but a fucking rapist wasn’t one of them.

“I’ll be here.”

“One more thing,” Guido said, handing me the keys to the car. “Your father said to leave the money locked in the car while you go inside the house and inspect the merchandise. This is the first time he’s working with these guys, and he doesn’t trust them.”

“Never trust a criminal,” I quipped, feigning nonchalance, though I felt that twinge to reach for my weapon again at his mention of the merchandise .

The drive to the destination was short, and I paused the vehicle in front of the huge house, a white building with a hipped roof. Dual galleries—a type of porch or balcony—rested one above the other, the top being held up by white columns. In the classic architecture of an older New Orleans home, intricate balusters framed the top balcony.

It looked nondescript, a typical house on the corner of a seemingly quiet neighborhood. Per my instructions, I pulled around to the back and punched in a number on the keypad that was positioned in front of a tall, wrought iron gate. It slid aside, and I pulled in, finding a single guard in front of the wooden door around back.

Leaving the money in the car, I locked it and approached.

“Name?” the word was a mere grunt from the burly guard, who was holding a semi-automatic weapon in his large hands.

“Cappitani.”

“Identification.” I whipped it out and he inspected it before nodding. “You’re the last one to arrive. All the others have picked up their merchandise already.”

There was that word again. Merchandise . Jesus, what the fuck was wrong with these people?

Without a word, I reached for the doorknob, but he stopped me with an arm across the door.

“I need your weapon before you go in,” he informed me, nodding toward an empty wooden box on a small table beside him.

I pulled my Beretta from my shoulder holster and placed it inside, and as I was about to reach for the pistol tucked into the back of my pants, the guard moved his arm and pushed open the door. Huh? Did he honestly think I only carried one piece? Dumb fuck.

Covering my movement by pretending to straighten my suit jacket, I rolled with it, stepping inside with the silenced 9mm still concealed at my lower back. “Go down the hallway, through the living room, and to the hall on the other side. Last door on the right,” he instructed, closing the door behind me.

The hallway was narrow and dim, lit only by brass sconces every few feet that emitted a dull, yellow glow that revealed a faded floral wallpaper. My eyes swept everything, noting that the doors on either side of the corridor were open and the rooms beyond them empty.

I passed a kitchen on the right and noticed the small wooden table littered with beer and liquor bottles, but there were no people present. Making my way down the hall on the other side of the living room, I slowly approached the last door on the right, which was slightly open. With my back pressed against the wall, I peeked through the small crack and saw two men sitting on a mattress on the floor, both scrolling on their phones.

I didn’t see the girl, but I could hear her. “Helloooo? I said I need some water.”

“No,” the man on the left side said without even looking up. “If I give you water, you’ll need to pee, and I’m not going through that shit again.”

The speaker was blond and chunky, while the other man was more well-built and appeared to be Latino. A pistol sat on a weathered nightstand beside chunky.

“Awww, I’m sorry,” the female voice said mockingly. “Did I hurt your teeny-tiny little balls? I should get some kind of award for actually finding them with my knee.”

The man glared toward the corner of the room not visible to me. “Shut the fuck up, Evie.”

Evie. Her name is Evie. I liked it.

“I will not shut the fuck up until you bring me some water, Ethan. It’s been, like, eight hours since I’ve had anything to drink. I’m going to get a kidney infection.”

“I. Don’t. Care,” he gritted out.

“What kind of name is Ethan for a kidnapper anyway?” Evie taunted. “Sounds like you should be the third-string quarterback at a prep school.”

I could hear his teeth grinding from out here, and I smiled to myself. She knew how to push his buttons. Probably not the smartest idea, but I liked it nonetheless. “I’ll have you know, I was second-string.”

“Ohhh, very impressive. If I wasn’t fucking handcuffed, I’d give you a round of applause,” the smartass—who I was liking more and more by the second—shot back. “And you can forget the five-star review on Yelp! for this kidnapping. In fact, I’d like to speak to your manager.”

My hand covered my mouth because I was finding it difficult not to laugh.

The Latino man nudged Ethan. “Shut her up. I’m tired of listening to her shit.”

The blond stood, picked up a dirty rag from the nightstand, and rounded the bed.

Nope. Not gonna happen.

I pushed open the door and the hinges squeaked, drawing the attention of the two idiots. The dark-haired one stood from the mattress and stuck his phone in the pocket of his cargo shorts.

“Hey, uh, you here to pick up number five?”

I nodded curtly, and then my gaze found her. Not number five. Evie . She was sitting with her ankles chained to the legs of a metal chair and her hands bound behind her. The dress she’d obviously been forced to wear was black and slinky, barely covering her toned thighs. My temper flared when I saw her face.

“She’s been marked,” I snapped.

Ethan pulled at the back of his neck, obviously uncomfortable. “This one gave us a lot of trouble.”

Good.

“Unchain her and then leave the room,” I commanded, bringing my attention back to the woman. She eyed me warily but didn’t speak.

“Felipe, uncuff her,” Ethan ordered before turning to me. “You can use the bed, but we need to get paid first before you can fuck her. Want us to get the money from your car?”

I leveled him with a glare so fiery, I was surprised he didn’t burst into flames. “No. You’re not seeing a dime until I talk to her.”

“Talk?” he asked like he didn’t know what that word meant.

“Out,” I barked in response, my tone steely and unrelenting.

Felipe stood and backed away quickly, probably to avoid Evie’s now unchained feet. “Watch your cojones, dude.” His fingers brushed across a set of scratch marks on the side of his neck that matched the ones I’d seen on the other guy’s face. I wondered if Evie had left them there. I hoped so. “Chick is loco. Don’t say we didn’t warn you.”

The duo left, and I cautiously approached the woman in the chair, who was looking up at me with apprehensive eyes. “I’m not going to hurt you,” I said quietly, and her eyebrows squished together, forming a soft pad between them. “Can you stand?”

Evie nodded, and I took both of her hands to help her up. She wobbled on the ridiculously high heels on her feet. They were stilettos and at least six inches. Even with them, she was a tiny thing, and I had to look down at her as I voiced my greatest concern at that moment.

“Did they…” I inhaled a deep breath. “Did they sexually assault you?”

I released the air from my lungs when she shook in the negative and said, “No, they kept threatening to, but I think it’s against the rules or something. I heard them talking about it in the hallway.”

My thumb brushed ever so gently across the bruise blooming on her right cheek. “Who did this to you?”

She swallowed. “Felipe.”

“And this?” I dropped my thumb to just below her lower lip, where a split in the rosy flesh was crusted with blood. My voice was quiet, belying the fury sizzling in my veins.

“That was courtesy of Ethan the fatass.”

I nodded, silent for a moment as my mind processed my next move. With this woman standing in front of me, beautiful even though she was battered and bravely afraid, I knew I couldn’t hand her over to my father, no matter what Leo decided. I think I knew that from the second I saw her in the video, but the knowledge of that fact was stark in the reality of seeing her in person. Of holding her small hands in mine.

“Take off your shoes, Evie.”

Her chin trembled, but she stopped it with an audible click of her teeth clenching together, blue eyes flitting nervously to the bed.

“But… I thought they said…” She couldn’t quite manage the quiver of fear in her voice.

“I’m not going to rape you, Evie. Never. I need you to be able to run.”

That soft pad of flesh appeared between her eyebrows again. “Why?”

“Because I’m about to fuck some shit up.”