Page 63 of Fight or Flight
“Come on, Claire. There’s no need to look like you’re ready to pass out. Nothing bad will happen to your friends. I promise. But...” he makes a dramatic pause and smiles. The fucker. “You need to be a good girl and come with us. No funny business. One wrong move, and they’re all dead, you got me?”
I just stare at him, breathing harshly, and he snaps. “You got me?”
My legs carry me toward Nico, and I hang my head. I can only hope that by surrendering, I will protect everyone.
––––––––
I WENT WILLINGLY, SO there was no duct tape binding or stuffing me into the trunk.
Nico called his brother from the front seat that they’d got me and was silent for the entire ride back to Chicago.
Over an hour later, the car stopped in front of a nice-looking house where more security guards were already waiting by the entrance, ready to intercept me.
The fact that no one even bothered blindfolding me or talking quietly around me tells me that I won’t be getting out of here. At least not outside a body bag. If there’s even anything left of me when they’re done.
I should cry or rage or something, but all I feel is calm as they lead me through the house and down the stairs into a cold basement. I would probably cry and range if they caught me a month ago, but nothing holds that power over me now.
Aidan’s love is with me—the memories of his face, his gentle touch, and his sweet words of affection. No one will take that away from me.
Nico walks with me into the cold cell, and I smile tauntingly when I notice how hard it was for him to come down here because of the leg.
I eye the weird brace around his knee theatrically and ask, “How’s the leg, Nico?”
“You think that’s funny? We’ll see how amused you’ll be after Sergio is done with your dumb ass,” he spits.
“Always in need of the big brother to deal with the tougher stuff,” I sigh. “Fine, bring him in then. I would rather be threatened by a real man, anyway.”
“You fucking bitch,” he says and charges at me, but then one of the guards steps in to intercept the blow he wanted to throw.
The meaty guy barely flinches and calmly states, “The boss said she’s not to have any visible marks on her.”
“Fucking fine,” Nico says, and after one last murderous look gets out with the guard in tow, locking the cell after them.
I take a deep breath and look around. Nice dungeon. I guess it's perfect for torture and keeping your enemies in until they starve.
I check the lock on the door, just to verify it’s truly closed, and then sit down on the cobblestone cold floor. My teeth are already chattering even before the temperature slowly drops in the room as hours pass.
Finally, I hear footsteps before the man in charge himself walks in. I shoot to my feet, and we eye each other silently before he smirks.
“Hello, Claire. I’m so glad we were able to track you in the end.”
“Sergio,” I say as a way of greeting. “Why exactly am I here?”
I glance at the two guys who enter the room and stand on each side of their boss.
“I feel like we got off on the wrong foot, Claire. Don’t you think? But I think that we can still work together to smooth everything out.”
“Fuck you. There won’t be any smoothening happening. If you want to kill me, just do it, and stop fucking talking,” I snap at him and lift my chin defiantly. Man, I think Jenny is rubbing off on me because I didn’t even know I could speak like that in the face of grave danger.
Sergio looks surprised by my words, too, before he barks with loud laughter. Then his face gets serious, changing so rapidly that I question whether the humor was ever there. His eyes roll over me with interest.
“You know, come to think of it, I should actually thank you.”
“Thank me?” I splutter and then blanch when he reaches into his pocket. Sergio seems to take pleasure in my reaction and lifts a cigar.
One of the guards brings a lighter close to his face, and we all watch as he drags on it before puffing out a small cloud.
Sergio gazes away as if in thought and waves a hand, causing the smoke to swirl around us, making him look like an evil wizard drawing a spell for a moment.