Page 43 of Saving Scarlett
Remaining silent for a moment, I studied his face, searching for any flicker of deceit. It was clear he was scared, but I had to be sure his information was reliable. One wrong move could put Scarlett in even greater danger.
“Vinnie,” I said, taking another step toward him. “I need you to think very carefully about what you just told me. Any inconsistencies or lies could mean the difference between life and death—for my girl, and for yourself.”
“Okay, okay!” Vinnie swallowed hard, his face reddening as his breathing grew ragged. “Like I said, there’s a shipment coming in—some kind of big deal. Victor’s got it all planned out. It’s happening tomorrow night. And yeah, she’s at that distillery on the east side. But that’s really all I know! I swear!”
“Who else knows about the shipment?”
“Uh... some of the higher-ups in the gang, I guess? I don’t know their names, man! We’re not exactly on a first-name basis. Look, I don’t know! I’m just a courier.” Vinnie cried out in frustration, his arms yanking on the zip ties until they started to bleed. “I’m not one of them, man! I’m just a low-level guy!”
“Good,” I said, satisfied with the information he’d provided. There were only so many distilleries in the city, so I knew where to look. “You just bought yourself a one-way ticket out of this nightmare.”
“Please, let me go,” he pleaded, his fear palpable as I stepped back toward the table. “I won’t tell anyone about this, I promise!”
Turning my back on him, I slipped the pliers into my pocket and pulled out my knife, sliding my finger along the blade. “Unfortunately, Vinnie, loose ends have a habit of unraveling.”
Chapter 37
The Survivor
After at least an hour of listening to the two men, I found myself pacing the dimly lit room, my rapid heart rate making it impossible to sit down. The overwhelming sense of urgency clawed at me, leaving me breathless and on edge—ready to gouge my way out of the room with my fingernails.
As I paced, trying to get my energy out in any way I could, footsteps approached the door, sending my heart into my throat.
Returning to the door, I pressed my back against the wall and braced myself for whatever was to come. For a moment, time seemed to stand still, my breath seizing in my chest as though my body didn’t want them to hear me.
When the door swung open, a burly man walked in, his face hidden in shadows as he tossed a sandwich wrapped in plastic wrap onto the floor. “Eat up, bitch. You’ll need your strength for what’s coming.”
As he turned to leave, adrenaline flooded through my veins, giving me strength I didn’t know I had. Without a thought, I seized the opportunity and lunged forward. In one swift motion, I swung the bar in my hand, smashing it into his forehead. He collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud.
Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I stepped over his unconscious body, the metal bar heavy in my sweaty palm. I didn’t know what I was doing. I had never attacked anyone in my life, but instinct controlled me, giving me no choice. With one more deep breath, I moved toward the doorway.
Listening for voices nearby and not hearing anyone, I poked my head out the door, peering down the dim hallway and was relieved when it was empty. On silent feet, I slipped out of the room, sliding the door closed and sticking close to the wall. All I needed was to find a way out of the maze of corridors.
My mind was still reeling from the conversation I’d overheard, wondering what my father could have done to get on the wrong side of Victor Delacroix and his Mob connections. I knew he had made some bad investments in the past, but I couldn’t imagine him being involved in something so dangerous. I still didn’t know how Joshua fit into the situation, but I knew he did.
Although Joshua’s involvement didn’t surprise me, the thought of my father being involved in organized crime made my heart ache. I didn’t want to believe it, but the evidence was stacking up against him. Had he known about Joshua’s criminal activities when he’d encouraged me to marry him? Had it all been part of some twisted plan? Those were questions I didn’t know the answers to, and the potential answers brought acid up my throat. I swallowed hard, forcing the thoughts away. Until I was free, I couldn’t deal with any of it. My sole focus needed to be on getting out of here alive.
As I crept down the first corridor and to the next, voices echoed from around a corner up ahead. Ice flooded my veins and I froze, pressing myself back against the wall, my pulse roaring in my ears. There was no doubt that if they found me out of my room, I was as good as dead. I held my breath, straining to hear the approaching voices.
“The Boss wants her kept under a twenty-four-hour watch,” one man said, the same man with the gruff voice. “We can’t afford any screw ups.”
“Relax, she’s not going anywhere,” another scoffed. “Little Miss Priss is too scared to make a move.”
Their laughter turned my stomach. I searched the area around me for somewhere to hide when I saw a supply closet ajar just a few feet away. As their footsteps drew nearer, I slipped inside, pulling the door nearly closed behind me.
Through the crack, I watched two hulking men stride past, dressed in dark suits with guns holstered at their hips. They were so close, I could smell the cigarette smoke on their breath.
Once their footsteps faded, I sagged back against the shelves, blowing out a shaky breath. Delacroix’s men were everywhere, watching my every move, making it nearly impossible for me to get away.
After several moments of sheer panic, I left the relative safety of the closet and crept down the hallway, keeping to the shadows as I strained to hear any sign of the guards. Up ahead, an ornate mahogany door stood slightly ajar, warm light spilling out into the corridor. I paused in a shadowed alcove, listening as a man’s smooth baritone voice drifted out, sending a chill down my spine.
“...the exchange will happen tomorrow. No mistakes.”
“Bring the girl once we have the documents,” Delacroix continued. “Her father will pay any price when he sees the photos.”
My stomach dropped. If they hadn’t taken photos yet, I knew they were going to find me missing as soon as they went to take them. When they found my room empty, escape would go from improbable to impossible.
Delacroix kept talking, but I could barely focus through the roaring in my ears. I had to get out of there—immediately—before they found me missing.