My breath catches in my throat as a flashback hits me. The tattooed man from the studios. Is this him? Suddenly I remember being whacked on the back of the head. No wonder I have a headache.
“I need to use the toilet,” I whisper. My voice is hoarse and scratchy. “Can you leave the cuffs off me?” I ask as he unlocks them. “I’m in a cage, I have no way of escaping,” I plead.
He thinks about this for a moment, and then nods.
“I’ll get you a bucket to keep in here then.”
A bucket? I shudder. I guess it’s better than wetting myself. He comes back a few minutes later carrying a bucket and another fast-food bag, this time complete with a drink. I take the soda from him gratefully, drinking half of it down in one gulp. The rawness in my throat eases for a moment, allowing me to swallow the now-cold cheeseburger.
“Have you contacted my father yet?” I ask. I need to know what’s going on. This is driving me crazy.
“Don’t worry about it. This will all be over soon. You need to hurry up and eat.” He locks the door to the cage and wanders back over to the stairs. I listen for the sound of him leaving, but it doesn’t come. He’s still there. Hesitating, I call out for him. Silence greets me, but after a few seconds he appears from the shadows.
“What is it?” he asks. He sounds nervous, which gives me hope. I know I have no hope in breaking the other guy, but this one, just maybe I can get through to him. What I need is for him to feel sorry for me.
“Can you stay with me for a while?” I ask in a small voice. He hesitates but walks closer. “I don’t want to be any trouble, I promise. I’m just lonely down here by myself.”
“Look, I can’t help you, but I promise nobody is going to hurt you.”
“How can you promise me that?” I ask. “Your partner is crazy. How can you be sure he’s not going to crack? Kidnapping is one thing, but murder will land you in prison for life.”
“Nobody is going to murder anyone,” he mumbles, but I can see my comment has worried him. “Look, you’ll be out of here in a couple of days, okay?” He reaches behind him and grabs a blanket from off a chair. “Here,” he says, pushing it through the bars of the cage. “It’s going to be cold tonight.”
He walks off, stomping up the staircase. I wince at the sound of the door slamming shut. I cover myself with the blanket, thankful to have at least a little bit of warmth. Gingerly, I approach the bucket, knowing I have no other choice. I look around me, searching my brain for a way of escaping.
There has to be a way out of this.
Kicking aside my food, I get up and examine the locks on the cage. There’s no way I can break through that. Deflated, I pace the small space, my fingers laced together behind my head.
My only hope is that my dad will give them whatever it is they want.
Chapter 27
Pietro
“So, who are these guys?” I ask as we get into the Audi Mark has just pulled up in. “And how sure are you that they haven’t hurt her?”
“They won’t hurt her because then they have nothing over me,” Giovanni mutters. “So long as she’s alive and in their hands, they know I’ll do whatever they ask me to.”
That makes me feel a little bit better until I remember this probably has nothing to do with Giovanni. What if I’m the reason she’s been kidnapped? I should’ve listened to Benito and kept my fucking nose out of it. We drive in silence through the city.
“What if she’s not there? What if you’ve got it wrong and it’s not these guys?” I mumble. Does he have a backup plan?
“Then I’m out of ideas, aren’t I?” he explodes. “Look, Pietro, just trust me, okay? Nobody wants her back more than I do.”
I want to argue the point further, but it will only make things worse, and I’ll probably end up confessing my whole sorry story. Instead, I shut my mouth. We drive in silence toward East Harlem. I stare out the window, taking in the gloomy weather. It suits my mood. The neighborhood is run-down and neglected, and just being here gives me a bad vibe. Graffiti covers the walls on nearly every shop, and thick metal bars adorn the windows. We pull up outside a house that looks deserted.
“Stay out here, Pietro,” Giovanni orders as we get out of the car.
I laugh. He can’t be serious? But he is. His cold eyes narrow on mine and I wonder if this is punishment for my involvement with Lucy. I shake my head. Of course it is.
“Whatever,” I mutter. Folding my arms across my chest, I lean against the car. I glance around me. The place is deserted. Opposite the car is what looks like was once a school. Now it’s derelict, with every window smashed to pieces and graffiti, complete with gang tags, everywhere.
Five minutes pass, and it feels like I’ve been standing here for hours. Why the fuck am I listening to him? I should be in there finding Lucy, dammit. I push myself off the car and stalk over to the warehouse he and Mark entered, next door to the house. Halfway there my phone beeps. I reach into my pocket and retrieve it.
It’s Benito. I’m confused, especially after how our last meeting ended. I hadn’t expected to hear from him again but my gut tells me I want to pay attention.
Benito: Meet me in half an hour inside Screamers. Come alone and do not tell anyone about this. Man, you’re in some serious trouble.