I sent a man back to the house as soon as I realized what was going on. And when it rains, it fucking pours. I just got a call telling me her father went into cardiac arrest.
I’m heading out the front door of her building when Vincent’s phone rings. He stops and turns to me.
“She’s not there. She’s not at the house, and there’s a taxi driver demanding payment.”
“What?” I take the phone. “This is Giovanni. What the hell is happening?”
“The garage door was half up when I got here, so I searched the house, but I barely got through the second floor when a taxi driver shows up, saying he gave the woman who lives here a ride. She didn’t have her wallet and sent him back here to find you. Asked for you by name.”
“Where did he take her?”
He’s talking to the driver as Vincent and I get into the car.
“Let me talk to him myself!” I bark.
A moment later the driver is on the line. “She was real upset. I’ll be honest, I didn’t want to leave here there alone.”
“But you fucking did. Address. I need the fucking address.”
“Am I getting paid?”
“You’re going to get a bullet in your head if I don’t get the fucking address.”
He spells it out, and I’m already driving. I know the neighborhood, and she doesn’t belong anywhere near it.
“He fucking played us. We should have known.”
Vincent is making calls, getting men out to the house. I’ve got the pedal to the floor, but we’re not going to make it in time. She’s been there alone too long. He’s had her too long.
“Fuck!”
“We’ve got an army coming for him. We’ll get him.”
It’s not getting him I’m concerned with. It’s the damage he’ll do in the meantime.
“She can’t fucking stay put. Not fucking once.”
A mixture of rage and fury drive me on. Somehow we make it to the neighborhood, to that house, without incident. Several cars screech to a stop behind us. I pull my weapon, ready it. Vincent sends men around the back of the house, and he’s flanking me.
It’s quiet, too quiet. I try the door but it’s locked. Of course it’s fucking locked. The house looks empty. Abandoned.
But what if this isn’t right? What if she isn’t here?
Aiming my weapon, I shoot out the lock. If she is here, we’ve just lost the element of surprise. We charge inside, my men fanning out through the house. The door at the far end catches my eye. It’s got a lock on it, a very heavy lock meant for outdoor use. I go to it, and that’s when I hear it. Hear the crack of a whip. Hear her scream.
I don’t think then. All I hear is that scream. I shoot through the lock and charge down the stairs and I see her. I see her in the center of the room, strung up like she must have been years before. There’s a bruise on her cheekbone and a cut on her lip. Her face is wet with tears. The whip is on the floor, but I can’t see the damage he’s done because he’s got her back to his front, a knife at her throat, and every time he moves, I see her fist her hands and hear her pain.
“You’re a dead man, Estrella.” There are three pistols pointed at him, but my men know not to fire until I give the word. And this prick is using her as a shield. “Let her go, and I’ll make it quick.”
“I’d rather you watch her bleed out. That’ll be worth whatever you do to me. Or I walk out of here, and you get her in roughly the same condition she was in when she got here.”
No way he’s walking out of here tonight.
I meet her desperate eyes, take a step toward the pair.
“Stay back. I mean it. I’ll kill her.”
“I don’t think you will,” I say, taking another step. He touches the tip of his blade to her throat, and a droplet of blood slides down it. She squeezes her eyes shut, squeezes out more tears. I’m going to extract double what she cried. I’m going to make it so slow, he’ll be begging me to kill him before I’m through.
“Oh, I mean it,” he says as I take another step. He tries to take one back, but he can’t because of her bonds.
“Don’t you find it a little pathetic you come after your sister, again, all because daddy loved her more than you?” I step closer yet, see Vincent getting into position from the corner of my eye. “I mean, a true betrayal, that I understand. But what did she do to you really?”
He just keeps his eyes locked on mine but he’s jittery, anxious. Even if he got a gun and made a dash for the stairs, even if he managed to hit one of us, the others would take him out. He has to know this.