Fallen Empire (Dirty Empire)

“We don’t have time to get into it, but he’s protected. At least, he will be soon. I’ve made sure of it. But I need you to tell me what Bane was driving. Yes or no answers, got it?”

I falter, but force myself to focus on a spot on the floor, rather than check Bane’s face. “Yeah.”

“Was it a van?”

“Yes.”

“Dark colored?”

“No.”

“So it was light. Was it white?”

“Time’s up.” Bane barks, holding out his hand.

“Yes. I miss you, too,” I tack on at the end. There’s an ache in my chest, an overwhelming feeling that I may never hear from Gabriel—or anyone—ever again. I know I’m testing my captor’s patience but I rush to add, “He’s keeping me in a single-wide trailer and there’s a big garage with a green tin roof—” My words cut off with a howl of pain as Bane slaps the phone out of my hand, catching my injured lip in the process. It goes flying across the room, hitting the wall.

“Mercy!” Gabriel shouts through the speaker.

Bane picks up the phone and ends the call without another word. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you? You think you can help him find you?” he snorts. “Well, I’ve been doin’ this a long time, sweetheart, and I can promise you, he don’t have a hope in hell of finding you. And even if he gets that PI of his to track this place down?” Bane leans in close to me. “I’ll make sure he sees me slitting your throat before he ever gets through the gate. And then I’ll string him up and gut him like a fish.”

“You can’t.” Tears trickle down my aching jaw. “If you hurt him, Vlad will kill you.”

“And how’s Vlad gonna do that? He’s behind bars, and I’m the guy he hires to kill guys like me! You think his merry band of goons can do it? There’s a reason he uses me for the big jobs. Those fools wouldn’t last a day trying to hunt me down.” He sneers. “But I warned you no funny business. Just for that, you’re gonna get some more time in the shed. Tomorrow. Tonight, I’ve got work to do an’ I don’t need to hear your whinin’ in the background. Takes the fun out of it.” He turns on his heels and marches out of the room, but pauses at the door. “And that’s the last light bulb you’re gettin’. You mess with that and you’ll spend the rest of your days in the damn dark.” With that, he slams the door shut and latches it.

I rest my aching body on the mattress and focus on the single water bottle that sits next to yesterday’s peanut butter sandwich, less the two bites I vomited in the shed when I saw the mutilated body in the corner.

Is Bane right? Is the only way I’m leaving this place going to be to end up in a hole in the desert?

And if he tortures Gabriel….

No, that won’t happen. I’m going to get out of here.

I tell myself that repeatedly, and push aside thoughts of what horrors await me tomorrow.

Exhaustion finally pulls me into sleep.

11

Gabriel

“Bane won’t kill her. He can’t,” Caleb reassures me as we stroll past three of Farley’s men and toward the front door. Our place is crawling with security—a necessity given all the flaming balls we’re juggling. We’re Enemy Number One now, as far as Puff is concerned, not that he’ll do anything while his mother, girlfriend, and child are being held hostage in an undisclosed location. And then there’s Navarro. For all we know, his men are on their way here to exact revenge for what my father pulled.

“He hit her.” My jaw clenches at the memory of that cry she let out just before the phone went dead.

“She’ll heal. And she’ll say it was worth her getting a few licks if it helps us find her.”

“Since when are you the pragmatic one,” I mutter. The little bit that she gave us was helpful. Stan identified a white van with Nevada plates—registered to a woman who died ten years ago, no obvious connection to Bane—and was able to use recorded security feeds to follow it onto the interstate, heading northwest. It’s a start, but we’re a long way from zeroing in on a location with a green metal roof.

And I can hear Mercy saying just that.

But I can just as easily hear her telling me to fuck off and die, and never come near her again after this ordeal. She’d have every right to.

Caleb reaches for the doorhandle, and frowns. “What is that sound? Is that barking?’ He opens the door and steps in cautiously.

Inside, a scraggly long-haired chihuahua scuttles across the cool tile floor of the foyer.

“Why is there a dog in our house?” Caleb hollers.