I remained huddled in the corner for what felt like an eternity while war and destruction took place on the other side of the wall. Part of me knew the sounds were of rescue, of police in search for a district attorney and assistant, but what if they killed Eddie in the process? Or what if the police weren’t prepared enough and were no match for Eddie’s soldiers who would no doubt fight to the death? What if the attackers were the Morettis? What if they got Eddie and then killed him, or tortured him for information and twisted fun?
Holding my hands over my ears, I waited and listened until finally, the gunfire ceased, the killing spree was no more, and I could hear voices of men giving commands and orders.
“Please, please, please,” I whispered to myself. Please let those commands be from Eddie… no… the police… no… Eddie… fuck.
When the door to the room flung open, and it wasn’t Eddie standing there with a smile on his face, I burst into tears.
A man in a police uniform and a bulletproof vest entered the room and lifted me from the floor. “It’s over, Ms. Bell. It’s all over.”
* * *
I sat in the back of an ambulance and pulled a blanket securely around my shoulders as a woman asked me questions. My body shook, and no matter how many blankets I had around me, I worried if I would ever feel warmth again. Ambulances, undercover vehicles, and cop cars filled the area, their lights swirling around me as men shouted out orders. Women who were the pets from the party were being shuttled out to be questioned.
“Were you beaten or tortured?”
I looked up at the woman writing on the clipboard. “Excuse me?”
I tried my best to focus and answer all the questions being asked, but I just wanted to know what had happened to Eddie. Was he dead? Arrested? I wondered if I would ever see him again.
“I’m sorry,” the woman answered. “I have to ask these questions. Did Eddie Vasco or any of the members of the family rape you?”
I shook my head. “No. Nothing happened.”
The woman looked up at me, surprised. “Nothing? Mr. Bush was severely beaten.”
Fury sizzled within, and I considered telling the woman taking the report everything I had just learned about that shithead Dylan. But Eddie was right. Dylan would eventually get his when the Moretti family learned that he’d squealed like a pig. I wasn’t going to say a single word. Not yet, at least.
“No, I was lucky, I suppose.”
The woman wrote on the clipboard and then asked, “Do you have any idea where Eddie Vasco and the other men who got away could have gone? Did he ever speak of other hiding locations similar to the Jumping Jack Power Plant?”
A surge of relief washed over me. Alive.
Eddie was alive.
Feeling as if I were swimming underwater, I shook my head. “No. I only knew of this one.”
Looking beyond the woman, I saw that Dylan was surrounded by people tending to his injuries and no doubt asking him the same questions being asked of me. I also knew he was lying through his teeth—or what was left of those teeth—and not telling them exactly why he was captured to begin with.
“Would you be able to identify any of the bodies? We recognize some from mugshots, but there were new faces.”
“I don’t think so. I didn’t really see people other than Eddie and his regular men we knew of.”
I didn’t want to tell her about the pet party, the cage, or that I had any intimate connection with Eddie Vasco at all. They already knew of the pet party, or as soon as they interrogated the pets that had been escorted out of Jumping Jack’s, they would know. But I didn’t want them to learn I’d had any part of it.
After a few more questions, which the woman dutifully recorded on the form, she said, “I’m glad you were lucky. The mafia is known for their torture tactics. Poor Mr. Bush sure got his fair share.”
It took all my might not to snort. Yeah… he hadn’t gotten nearly his fair share yet.
“Thank you,” I said. “So to clarify… Eddie Vasco is still presumed alive?”
The woman nodded. “Yeah, the search is on for him. He got away during the gunfight with some others. But when we find him, I think we finally have enough to bring the fucker down for good this time. Two kidnappings is enough to begin with.”
I smiled.
I knew the woman believed she knew why I was smiling. She had no idea the real reason.
Eddie Vasco was alive.
Eddie Vasco was free.
Not dead, and not in a cage.
Free.
But so was I…
Free… and oddly… devastated.
Chapter Seventeen
Nayla Bell
“Today’s our last session,” my therapist said as she placed her pen and paper down. “Unless you want to continue not by order of your work.”