Page 17

Quinn

This is worse than waking up in a panic. My ears ring with terror, my body freezes. All that confidence I drummed up trying to escape from the rookies fades.

I’m stuck in a second-floor room as two men in masks are about to storm the house.

Shit.

I have to warn Reggie, but I’m frozen in fear. My heart pumps ice in situations like this. It’s a goddamn disease. I want to scream, but my body won’t let me. It’s telling me to curl into the fetal position and play dead, hope they don’t find you.

How stupid my body is.

I force my shaky hands to the floor and hold my breath, realizing what I just witnessed outside—the untimely death of David, someone who was just murdered in cold blood on guard duty. If I don’t warn Reggie, I’m also dead.

C’mon, Quinn.

Teeth clattering, I get to my feet, hearing another car screech to a stop outside.

They sent two vans just to get to me?

Oh jeez. Oh fuck!

My body thaws and I run for the door. “ Reggie, ” I whisper as loudly as I can, rushing toward the steps as I hear Russian accents outside. They’re about to crack open the door.

Doesn’t Ferraro have an alarm on his house?

“ Reggie. ” I peek down the stairs to see him sitting on the couch with his phone in hands, snoring. Slapping the banister, he awakes in a startle, eyes taking a second to focus. I point at the door and he draws his weapon.

“Probably the Liu,” he scoffs in his half-sleep daze and puts the gun back in his pocket.

Krcht!

The sound of a key entering a lock makes me bite my lip, and when the door unlocks… I don’t know what to think.

Shhrthm! Shhthrm!

The Russians are fast to the draw, shooting Reggie in the shoulder and the throat, activating more silent tears as I scramble back up to the second floor.

I run to the room and shut the door. It’s only a matter of time. Staring out the window where David’s body lies awkwardly on the ground—limbs sprawled—I wonder if it’s worth trying for the drain pipe and probably breaking both my legs. Or worse.

“ Quinn, hunnie. What’s going on? Everything okay out here? Heard a loud noise, ” Mara’s tired voice comes from down the way.

I hear footsteps everywhere. Hers are soft. The Russians’ are hard. Boots clunking up the steps.

“ Ahh! ” Mara shrieks.

Shhrthm!

My God. They shot her. An unarmed, innocent woman.

Scanning the room, there’s nothing around me I can use for a weapon. The painting is too awkward. Globe in the corner is made of hard plastic. I’m dead , unless I try out the window.

Boom!

They kick open the wrong door across the way… which means mine is next.

I look out the window and steel myself to jump for the drain pipe. No choice. Have to. Life or death.

And just as I open the window wider and step onto the window ledge, I see him. A fat man in a leather jacket, holding a cigar with a mask over his face.

I’m screwed .

Boom!

The door kicks in.

“ Don’t you fucking move, pretty princess. ” A bratva man stomps in, and I freeze.

He tears at my hair so I fall backward onto my tailbone, feeling the rip of strands from my head.

“ Stupid bitch. ” He drags me by the hair as I kick and scream, then grabs for my throat.

We look each other in the eyes.

I’m gasping for air. His fingers are like dirty talons around my throat. I can feel them piercing and squeezing like an animal who caught its prey.

“ Your family causes a lot of trouble for us. Now be a good little bitch and stay quiet. ” He widens his eyes threateningly.

Thinking of all those self-defense classes my father sent me to growing up… how to disarm, how to disable, how to mace. All of its useless with a man twice my size. I can feel the blood constricting as I scratch at his wrist for him to let up.

No. I won’t die a coward .

I’m Captain Dall’s fucking daughter.

I swing my body and kick his inner thigh.

“ Mmph ,” he groans, loosening his grip just enough for a desperate gulp of air.

My vision is wavy like I just got knocked in the face, and as I’m about to kick again, a backhand sends me flying in the other direction, crashing into the dresser.

The point hits between my ribs, leaving more stars floating in my vision.

“Feisty one.” The second Russian ducks into the room.

He’s taller… the one who manhandled my father, and he’s terrifying.

To my dismay, I feel a huge hand squeeze my ass.

“I like them angry,” he growls, crouching to the floor to inspect me. “The boss won’t care if we take her for a ride first, eh, comrade?” He laughs. “Or did that kick to balls make your dick no work?”

The laugh devolves into a sadistic snicker as his fingers dance around my inner thigh. “Such a body on her. Ripe, eh?”

“Come on, Dishjav, we have to leave. Too much noise,” the other says.

“It’s the middle of the night,” Dishjav says. “Who’s going to know?” He grabs my ass again, and I offer a swift kick towards his face.

He catches my foot and slams the heel on the floor, causing a third round of stars. At this point, I wish they’d pistol whip me so I wasn’t conscious for this. My entire body is bruised and broken between now and the last few days. Bruises on top of bruises.

Get the hell off me!

I try to kick again, but he catches my other leg and holds them wide. It’s the first time I see the demon behind the mask. The drool over his crooked teeth is yearning. Eyes so sadistic it’s like I died and went to hell.

Save me, Silver, I pray to no avail.

Fssss!

A whistle comes from outside—from the fat Russian.

“That’s the signal, Dishjav. We go now. ” The shorter one grabs him by the shoulder, and Dish grunts in agreement.

“Guess I’ll have to try you later.”

I bite my lip to stop from quivering.

“Oh, don’t look so glum.” He rips me by the hair, forcing me to my feet. “After you see the boss, you’re going to be praying for what I have to offer.”

I try to scream, but he slaps me, cuffs me, and shoves tape over my mouth.

The smaller bratva shakes his head as he exits the room.

“Ah, watch your step.” Dishjav laughs while stepping over Mara dead on the floor.

I yelp when I see her—eyes wide and blood pooling beneath her.

My legs are all numb as they struggle to catch the steps. I’m being dragged harshly, hitting my shoulder on the banister as I move.

Fresh, biting air hits my open cuts, keeping me lucid. I have to remember whatever details I can. It’s like the movie Taken . It feels exactly the same as what the daughter portrayed. But I have to be like Liam. Be smart.

When Dishjav and the other meet with fattso, I notice them looking around for side cameras down the block. There’s only street lights. Smart move. We walk toward two white vans with black lettering. Some are scratched off from weather… or on purpose.

Rish , something, piping and cleaning.

Now I realize, the weathering is identical. The plates are identical. One is being used as a diversion.

Shit.

They open the side door quietly, and throw me in less so. It’s pitch-black with no seats. I’m going to be rolling around all over the place. As I scramble to get to my knees, the smaller one already grabs my wrist from the front seat and makes sure my cuffs are secure.

“Try one movement I don’t like, I shoot your leg, da? ”

I tense my jaw.

“ Ey! ” He taps the gun against the headrest—metal on metal. “ Do you understand? ”

I nod reluctantly, and he turns around with a sigh.

As fattso pulls away, Dishjav waits until he turns before pulling down the block and going the other way… towards the back streets.

“Thought the instructions were no killing the women?” the smaller one says.

“Shut yer mouth, Ruz. Had to shut up the alarm,” Dish growls.

“We might get flack for this.” Ruz shakes his head again. Seems like there’s tension between them.

“Well, we make it worth it. Few more blocks and we have our way with daughter of captain.”

My blood pressure drops to negative. It’s like I’ve died and I’m just a cold shell. If he touches me, I’ll bite it right off. My body learned how to unfreeze, now I have to grip that strength again and leap in the other direction. I have to survive .

I could throw these cuffs around Dish and hope he swerves the car, but I’d be the only casualty if it flipped. My ass is sliding everywhere on every turn.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, princess?” Dish snickers again, reaching around the driver’s seat to grab my ankle.

I kick away… then my blood runs cold.

A shadow blurs past in my periphery. There’s someone else in here.

“Don’t be shy, little princess.” Dish laughs louder, reaching for me.

Before I can register what’s happening, a black glove grab’s Dish’s finger and snaps it the wrong way.

Shhrthm!

A silenced shot goes through Ruz’ temple and leaves blood spatter all over the van ceiling. Dish’s screams are visceral and angry, but the most chilling noise is the one of Ruz’ head bobbing back and forth lifelessly.

“Stop the car,” a familiar deep voice says as the silenced pistol presses firmly to Dish’s temple.

The heat of the silencer makes Dish recoil. “Bastard Italian. Ahr— ” he cries louder when Silver cracks his wrist effortlessly.

The car jerks back and forth as Silver slips into the passenger’s seat beside the corpse and stabilizes the wheel, gun still pressed to Dish’s head. He’s limber despite his size, and soundless when he wants to be.

The situation is so insane, I wonder if I’m hallucinating from being tossed every which direction.

“What’s the drop location?” Silver asks evenly.

His forearm muscle shows through his tight black shirt. Dexter Morgan… only hotter, somehow. This can’t be real. I’m mentally blocking some terrible event out right now.

Wake up, Quinn. Wake up .

“You alright, kid?” Silver glances my way, his eyes snapping me out of my disbelief.

It really is him.

He came to save me.

I shrug as if it’s any other day, and let out a muffled sigh through my gag.

Dish cackles. “Ah, I see. You want the young pussy too. Why else would old mobster go through all this trouble—”

Crack!

Silver slams the pistol against Dish’s already broken wrist. “Any words left in that smart mouth?”

The bratva soldier grits his teeth, taking long breaths in. “Nikolaj will eat you once he finds out. What family are you, huh? Barone, Rigiano, Valentino . Eh?” He exhales audibly. “No—no matter. He will find you.”

Silver reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a set of plyers. “Pull over. There .” He points with the gun. It’s all trees and grass near some Jersey back streets. The houses are a little shabby and unlit. Of course. It must be three in the morning at this point.

“What warehouse was she to be taken?” Silver says, and Dish’s eyes widen.

“It was you who took the captain. You were the ghost! ”

Silver smiles at that, then shoves the car in park and reaches to pull Dish’s nose up and jaw down, exposing his teeth. “Look away, Quinn.”

I know I should, but I can’t. These bratva bastards upended my easy life… I have to see it through.

Silver shoves the plyers over the gums of Dish’s crooked front teeth. “You were going to have a sweet time with her, weren’t you?” He presses hard, and when the screams come, Silver throws his gun on dead Ruz’ lap and stuffs a cloth in Dish’s mouth. “No, no, no. We won’t be waking the neighbors.”

Snap!

He pulls a tooth clean out, and the blood that follows makes Dish gurgle for a second, before the plyers are shoved in there again. “You thought you were going to hurt her, didn’t you?”

Of all the things. In all the worlds. I should not be turned on right now.

I should not be…

Pressing my knees together does nothing to stop the sensation.

“I want to tell you something else.” Silver is careful to wipe all the blood on the towel, then slaps Dish’s face carefully.

“ Look here. Right here. I used to deal with fuckers like you on a daily basis… until the one time I screwed up.” He smiles sadly.

“I don’t screw up anymore, bratva. I’ve learned from my mistakes. ”

I wince when Silver jabs the plyers towards one of Dish’s back molars and digs deep to wrench the tooth out. The muffled screams turn to scared moans.

“Don’t worry.” Silver leaves the second tooth on the dash. “I won’t lose these. Evidence, right?” He smiles, slapping Dish’s face lightly. “Oh, and one other thing. I don’t care where you were taking her. Because she was never going to get there.”

Silver presses the silencer to his forehead.

“Wait. Wait, ” Dish’s voice strains and strangles with blood. He coughs, trying to get the words out. “I can tell you who sent—”

“Lieutenant Ferraro Julius?” Silver tilts his head.

Dish chokes back the words, and I think I hear a sob.

Shhtrmp!

It’s like a water balloon popped. Little noise, lot of mess.