It’s noisy beyond the alley where an SUV is waiting. It blocks my view of the street, of the people walking and the cars driving by, oblivious to what’s happening here in this dark corner of their world.
The windows of the SUV are tinted an opaque black. I can’t even make out how many people are inside.
I’m barefoot. I hadn’t really thought about it when I’d been in that room but the puddles of water on the street chill me as one of the doors is opened. I’m lifted up and placed in the back seat.
Felix climbs into the passenger seat and turns around as I’m strapped in by a woman who looks a lot like the one Marcus employed to prepare me for our wedding. She’s sitting between me and one other passenger. A girl.
He glances at me, then over to her. “I’m sorry she smells, sweetheart. She wasn’t bathed, I’m sure. You know those thugs.”
I look at the girl in the shadowy car, the red lights blinking illuminating her only momentarily. She has long blonde hair, I see that. And huge crystal blue eyes. She leans around the woman to peer at me but doesn’t speak and her expression doesn’t change. Just huge, frightened eyes on me.
“She doesn’t smell so bad,” the girl says flatly, her accent American.
“You’re too sweet, my little doll,” Felix says, reaching his arm back to caress her face.
She shrinks back a little, but one cluck of his tongue and she leans her face into his hand. She’s young. I see it now when the light from the street shines on her face. Fifteen or sixteen maybe and small.
I want to slap his hand away. I want to make him stop touching her.
“I’ll miss you,” he says to her.
She turns her head to look out the window.
“What do you say, Lizzie?” he asks.
Lizzie?
I peer more closely.
She turns back to him, same huge eyes a little shinier in the light. “I’ll miss you too,” she whispers but inside that whisper, I hear a hint of steel. Just a hint.
Felix smiles then as quickly as he’d struck me, he shifts his grip to twist a fistful of her hair painfully pulling her toward him.
The girl makes a sound but nothing else.
“Again,” he commands.
“I’ll miss you too, Felix. Very much.” No steel this time. It’s melted away. I guess ten years will do that to you.
“Good girl,” he says, releasing her.
She looks down at her fisted hands in her lap. The woman between us unhooks something from her belt, unravels it. It’s a leather strap, about six inches long. She raises it, crashes it down over the girl’s hands.
I gasp, shocked.
The girl makes a sound but catches herself, swallows it down and releases her fists, laying them flat on her lap. I watch the angry red line form across the tops.
“Better,” the woman says.
The girl remains silent, but I catch how her eyes shift to mine momentarily. She must be afraid to get caught. They’ve trained her.
Felix looks at me. He gives me a grin. “Get comfortable. We’ve got a long ride.” He turns back in his seat and switches on the radio to a station playing Spanish music.
33
Cristiano
The private jet lands in Rotterdam a few hours later. The flight was tense, to say the least, my brother quiet. He knows he did wrong. But I can’t forgive him. Not yet.
Two cars wait for us at the airfield. Antonio, Dante and I climb into one, Dante sitting in the passenger seat.
“House is in the city. About thirty kilometers from here.”
“You’ve got eyes on it?”
Antonio nods. “Only for the last couple of hours though. There are definitely two men inside and a woman.”
“Scarlett?”
“Not sure yet.”
I shift my gaze out the window.
“We’ll find her, Cristiano,” he says.
I watch passing cars as we merge into traffic.
She got Noah out. I’m glad she got him out. But she should have gone with him. Why didn’t she? Was she waiting for me to return?
“Does she think I’m dead?” I ask. Antonio knows I’m talking to my brother.
There’s a long silence. “I told her you were because I thought you were,” he pauses, turns in his seat. I see him in my periphery. “She was upset to hear it.”
I don’t let myself feel anything at that. I can’t. I need to focus now. The stakes are too high for emotion. For weakness.
“And my uncle?” I ask, only turning back to Antonio when I’ve schooled my features.
He’s typing something into his phone. Antonio has contacts everywhere. And throughout this, I’ve learned that I can trust and rely on him.
“I’m just following up on a lead. He was at the house too, we know that.”
“We need to get Scarlett back first. I’ll deal with him after.”
The rest of the drive is silent, and I watch the busy streets of the city as the driver weaves his way through dense traffic to a seedier looking part of town.