Page 37 of Hunting

Shit. Where’s my boop? I need Massimo to boop me, I’m going down a rabbit hole.

I look around myself discretely, seeing if anyone is watching me. Nope. Joseph is getting closer but his eyes aren’t on me yet. Here goes.

“Boop.” I whisper to myself as I touch my finger to my nose like Massimo.

Holy shit it worked. With my focus back, I force myself to appear casual. I order a drink from the bartender. A martini. I order it dirty. Not because I know what that means. It’s because it sounds sexual. It’s a proven technique that I found while working with dad.

“Hey gorgeous.” Ugh that voice makes my skin crawl. It’s Joseph.

I turn and slap on my best smile. “Hey handsome.”

“What’s a girl like you, doing all alone on a Friday night?” He asks. His eyes roving over my body. He licks his lips. Gross. Not happening.

I play my part like I’ve done so many times before. “I won’t be alone long. My friend is coming. She’s running late.”

“Sorry to hear. I can keep you company while you wait. If you want?” He offers while gesturing to the empty seat next to me.

I nod and take a sip of my drink while he sits. His eyes stay focused on my mouth. Bingo. He’s hooked.

Suddenly a loud commotion by the door starts. Four, no five, six, men are throwing punches. I turn quickly to look. The fight is getting bigger by the moment. I hop off my stool so as to not get knocked off it. I fall right into Joseph’s waiting arms. Shit. I feel the cold press of metal against my back.

Not again.

“Here’s how this is going to work babe. You’re going to walk, calmly with me to the kitchens. You won’t make a peep will you?”

I shake my head. Nope. No I won’t. This wasn’t the direction of the plan I was hoping for. But it is one we anticipated could be a possibility. Both the Caruso’s and Ivan’s teams are ready for this situation.

Or so I thought.

I get into the kitchen. Joseph immediately steps back and tells me to take off all my jewelry.

I do.

Then he tells me to take off the shoes and dress. Fuck. I hate this fucker. I want to kill him. I could disarm him. I know how. I did it with Massimo the night I was taken. But I can’t. That’s not the plan. We need to save Val. To do that, I need this twat to take me to him.

Once I’m stripped, he throws his oversized coat at me. He doesn’t have to tell me to put it on. I do it as soon as it is in my hands. Then he is leading me roughly by the arm into the walk-in refrigerator. What the hell? This can’t be where Val is.

It’s not. Along the back wall, Joseph moves a box of fries, then pushes against the wall. It opens up and reveals a stairwell. Shit.

He walk down the flight of steps, then what feels like a football field length hall. Then we are going up another set of stairs that opens into a storage closet of a closed antique’s shop. By the layer of dust that is coating, well, everything, it looks like no one has used the store as a store in a long time. Years probably.

He leads me out the back door and to an awaiting car. I so hope Massimo or Elena, someone is actively watching my tracker. If anyone at the bar saw me head into the kitchen, they would have alerted the men outside that I could be going out the back. When I didn’t would they immediately look for me, or think I’m wooing him into talking in the kitchen?

I don’t have long to think before we are stopping and I am being ushered out of the car. Joseph has a tight grip on my arm as he drags me up the front steps of an old Victorian house. This too looks long abandoned. Except for the small gathering of soldier’s that sit around a table playing cards, and the two we passed on the way in.

“We are not to be disturbed, understood?” Joseph announces to the room. The men just wave him off. That tells me a lot. It tells me he isn’t the boss. He doesn’t hold a high rank. And the men don’t respect him. This could also mean they don’t care about him. Good. I am need to use that information later.

I’m dragged up the stairs. Not because I fear what he is planning. I’m confident Massimo will be here before he touches me. No, I’m dragging my feet and purposely stumbling so I can have every second available to me to search the rooms we pass and go through for signs of Val.

He has to be here.

Bingo.

Upstairs and the second room on the right, I see him. He’s strapped to a chair. He looks like shit. One of his eyes are swollen shut, his nose is bleeding and crooked, and he is slumped to the side. He is in severe pain. I wonder how bad his internal injuries are.

I want to yell to him. I want to tell him to not give up. Help is coming. We came for him.

But I can’t. I can’t alert Joseph to anything yet.