by Stasia Black
“Marty, I hope you don’t mind if I keep you here, talk to you some more. See, I have to figure out where this shipment got to, so I can go and retrieve it. I need your help to do that. You willing to help me?”
“Of course, yeah.” The man wiped his mouth, but couldn’t stop his eyes shifting around the stone-faced enforcers surrounding him and Marcus.
“It may take a while. You want me to get a message to someone who’s waiting up for you? A woman or something?”
“Uh, no, my wife, she’s used to my late hours.”
“Alright.” Marcus glanced around the circle of waiting men. One Shade, looming over Marty’s right shoulder, cracked his knuckles, massaging his beefy hands. With a subtle shake of Marcus’s head, the thug backed down.
Interrogation of a suspect couldn’t be done with force. The man would give false information, would say anything to stop the pain. Manipulation led to much more reliable information. Befriend someone, and they will tell you what you want.
Every time.
“Thanks for helping me out, Marty. I appreciate it. And I have a beautiful woman waiting for me in my bed, so I’m sufficiently motivated to finish this.”
A chuckle ran around the circle and even Marty’s features relaxed.
“So here’s the thing that I don’t understand,” Marcus leaned forward in his chair. “Why didn’t they kill you? I mean, that’s what I would do. Shoot the driver, take the goods, dump the body.”
Marty mopped the sweat from his forehead. “Uh, I don’t know.”
“You don’t know. Lucky break for you, though. Seeing as you’re breathing and not dead in a ditch.”
“Look, I ran over something, drove a mile and the rig, she was pulling weird, so I stopped to check it out. The car came out of nowhere and these men jumped out waving guns. They had me outnumbered.”
“Of course.” Marcus closed his eyes. “How many men?”
“Don’t know how many, saw two waving guns, another on the other side, maybe two in the back. They got me out and on my knees and told me not to move. Thank the gods your guys were looking out for me.”
“Why were you on the back road and not the Ape?” Marcus mentioned the Appian Way, the main artery out of New Olympus.
“Thought I knew a quicker route.”
“Even though your orders were to meet up at the abandoned rest stop on the Ape? I’m told you went ten miles out of your way for this shortcut.”
The man licked his lips. “Listen, I know it looks bad. I know it looks like I was headed to Metropolis.”
Marcus’s eyes narrowed but he didn’t interrupt.
“But I ran over something and I didn’t want the load at risk. If I had an accident, fuck, the suits would be all over it. I didn’t want that to happen so I took a shorter route. I mean, it’s been years and the Titans ain’t done nothing—”
“The Titans? I thought you said you didn’t know who jumped you.”
“I don’t, I mean, I just guessed. They’re your enemies.”
“That’s also a little out of their way to pick up a shipment, but the road you chose was wooded, secluded. Not a bad place for a meet.”
“Or an ambush.” Marty corrected.
Marcus let the silence stretch. Marty nailed his story airtight, maybe was briefed by the Metropolis gang. The Titans were nasty fuckers. If Marty was dealing with them, maybe there were balls of steel under his worn khakis.
Time for a crowbar.
“Listen, Marty, it’s getting late. I’m a man who values my time; I’m sure you’re the same way. So I’m going to tell you: I already sent someone to your house. Sharo, you know him? Big guy. Doesn’t say much. His fists do the talking, although he’s a keen hand with a wet saw.”
“Oh gods.” The man’s pasty skin went white.
“They call him the Undertaker. Kinda cliché, I know, but it gets the point across.”
Marty’s mouth flapped open like a dying fish, but no sound came out. Marcus kept talking.
“Anyway, Sharo’s not a big fan of waiting, either, and he’s standing in your wife’s bedroom now, watching her sleep. In a minute I’m going to text him instructions, and what I tell him depends on what you say.”
“Oh gods, no. Not my Sadie.” The man fell forward out of the chair, onto his knees. “Please, please, don’t hurt her. I’ll tell you.”
Marcus nodded. “You have two minutes. Start talking.”
Ten minutes later, Marcus walked back out to the stairwell where Sharo was waiting.
“Fucking Titans,” Sharo growled.
“Send out a patrol. Shipment’s long gone, but maybe we can still track it, be ready next time.”
“Already done. We’re bugging up the rest of the goods. If another trucker flips, we’ll have ears inside.”
Marcus rubbed his stubbled jaw as if he could wipe away the night. “This is the second incursion into our territory this month,” he said. A man’s broken cry echoed out from the metal dye vats behind him. “After all these years, they’re finally making their play. It’s got to be because of her.”
Cora’s mother. She must have gone to the Titans and plead her case just like Marcus had known she would.
Sharo nodded.
“They’re not gonna stop. Not until we end it.” Sharo’s midnight skin shone even in the shadows.
“It’s about time.” Marty’s screams rang out again, and Marcus headed for the stairs. “Tell them to turn the fans on. Drown out the noise.”
Sixteen
When Cora woke up, her head felt thick, her eyes swollen. What time was it? It was dark out. The last thing she remembered was giving into the tears half an hour or so after Marcus left. She’d swiped them away as fast as they fell, furious at herself. How had she let herself feel anything for that selfish, monstrous, unfeeling—
Wait, something was wrong. It was the middle of the night and she wasn’t sure what had woken her. She frowned as she swung her feet over the side of the bed.
But then it hit.
The weight around her ankle. It was gone.
She frantically turned on the bedside lamp.
Holy shit! She lifted up her ankle. And then laughed in disbelief.
The weight around her ankle was gone, along with the chain leading to the bedpost.
She’d done it. She’d earned his trust. Or was this another test?
She waited ten minutes, occasionally calling out Marcus’s name, but got no response. Biting her lip, she got on the bed, spread her legs, and touched herself, knowing that if he was in the apartment and watching, that would definitely bring him running.
Still, nothing. He wasn’t home.
It was now or never.
She scrambled to the door. It was locked.
But after her mother locked her up, she’d vowed never to be stopped by a locked door again. She’d practiced for hours and hours after studying online videos—it was one of the first things she’d done as soon as she got free of the farm.
She went to the bathroom and grabbed a few hairpins. A few minutes scratching at the lock and it clicked. She backed up, barely daring to believe.
But when she turned the knob, the door opened.
Think, she had to think. She grabbed a plain t-shirt and jeans from the closet. Clothes Marcus had never let her wear the whole time she’d been here. And shoes. She needed shoes. The fabric scratched her skin. She’d grown used to being naked.
How long had she been in here? A week? More?
She pulled her hair into a ponytail and let the door creak open. Maybe he posted a guard, anticipating her escape.
But no. There was no one in the penthouse. She crept into the open room, barely daring to believe it. Marcus never left her alone for long. The gods were smiling on her, giving her a perfect chance to escape.
Too perfect, the little voice said, and she hushed it. Marcus expected the locked door to hold her. She’d outwitted him for once.
Before racing out the door, she grabbed a coat an
d buttoned it to cover the collar and leash she still wore. She didn’t have time to figure out how to undo it.
She put her hand on the doorknob and paused. Someone had cleaned up the statue she’d broken. A giant bouquet of flowers sat on the column instead.
She preferred the statue.
Not that it mattered. She was never coming back here.
She pulled open the door and escaped into the night.
Seventeen
“Are you okay?” asked a female officer two hours later, checking in on Cora where she waited in a windowless room inside the police station.
Cora was huddled on a chair with her knees to her chest, arms wrapped around them. She looked up at the sympathetic looking woman. “I asked for someone to come cut this thing off of me an hour ago.”
Cora held out the chain connected to the collar around her neck. Her voice sounded slightly hysterical even to her own ears but she couldn’t help it.
After sneaking out of the hotel, she realized she didn’t have a place to go or anyone to help her. Marcus had confiscated her phone that had Maeve’s number programmed into it, but even if Cora still had it, she wouldn’t have wanted to bring the older woman into this. People were scared of Marcus for a reason.
So Cora had found a cop and asked to be taken to the station. They were the only ones she could think of who actually could help her.
It was over now. She was free. So why was she still so on edge?
The woman’s eyes went wide. “Oh my gosh, of course. I’ll be right back with some cutters.”
The door shut behind the woman and Cora couldn’t help immediately getting up and going to check the doorknob. It wasn’t locked. Cora pressed a hand to her heart, willing it to slow.
You’re being paranoid. These are the good guys.
But she was still on Marcus’s turf. As soon as she’d blurted out everything that had happened ever since her wedding day to the policeman at the front desk, he brought her to this room. Fifteen minutes later, a superior officer, Captain Martin, had come and she’d reiterated her story more slowly.
“Please,” she begged. “Marcus is a powerful man. You need to transfer me to a station that’s further away. We are still on his turf. He has soldiers, I don’t know how many. You probably know more than I do. What if he attacks the police station—?”
“It’s all going to be okay now,” said the kindly police captain, a man in his mid-50s with more salt than pepper in his hair, as he patted her hand. “You’re safe now and we won’t let anything happen to you. Ubeli isn’t foolish enough to attack a police station. That’s not how his kind works. Now you just rest up while I make some calls and we’ll see about a more permanent situation for you.”
But Cora hadn’t been able to do anything other than pace back and forth in the small room and then finally curl up into a ball on the chair while waiting for any news. Whenever she shifted on the chair, she was reminded of last night. Of what it felt like when Marcus had finally…
Taken the last of your innocence.
She still felt it now, the bowling ball tearing through her guts when she realized it had meant nothing to him. That he still only saw her as a means of revenge. She would only ever be her father’s daughter to him. So she’d run.
By now Marcus would have come home to the apartment. He’d have found her gone. The cameras in the room would have shown her picking the lock and escaping. He’d also probably deduced that she couldn’t have gotten far, especially if she’d been caught on any street camera footage.
It was probably only a matter of time before he tracked her to the police station.
She pressed her fingers to her face. Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods, what was she going to do? What if the cops couldn’t—
She jumped out of her skin when the door banged open again. But it was the female policewoman with what looked like bolt cutters.
“This might be overkill,” the woman said apologetically, “but I know it will get the job done.”
“Fine by me,” Cora said. “I want this thing off my neck.”
The woman nodded. “I’ll be careful.”
She slid the cutters between Cora’s neck and the leather and with one firm snip, the leather collar came free and with it, the chains clanked to the floor. Cora cupped her neck. The bare skin felt strange. Not that she wanted the collar back, she just—
The cop was watching her.
Cora forced a smile. “Thank you. Just...thank you.”
The woman put a hand on Cora’s shoulder and squeezed. She bent over and picked up the chains attached to the severed collar. “I’ll get these out of your sight.” With that, she left the room.
And Cora was back to waiting, waiting for she didn’t know what. Her new life to begin, she supposed.
It wasn’t five minutes before the police captain entered again, carrying a folder. Captain Martin sat at the table across from her. Cora forced herself to drop her knees so that her feet were on the ground. She’d taken off the voluminous coat but now she shivered even though it wasn’t especially cold. It was Captain Martin’s face. He didn’t look like he had good news.
“What is it? Is something wrong?”
“I don’t think I have to tell you that Marcus Ubeli is a dangerous man.”
Was this guy kidding? “Yeah, I figured that out when he locked me in a room for over a week with a collar around my neck. You don’t have to convince me that he’s a bad guy. Preaching to the choir.”
“Good, good,” the police captain said. “Then you’ll be happy to testify against him in a court of law.”
“What?” Cora shoved back from the table and stood, holding her hands up. “What are you talking about?”
“Well you’ve come in here with a pretty fantastic story,” Captain Martin said. “We’ve been trying to nail Ubeli for years on racketeering, drug trafficking, money laundering, you name it. But kidnapping and captivity will make for one hell of a story, especially if you have any insights into the rest of his business dealings.”
Cora was shaking her head the entire time he spoke. “I don’t have anything to do with that. I want to get out of here. Right now. I want one of your guys to drive me as far west as you can take me and I’ll disappear.” She held her hands up again. “I don’t want anything to do with Marcus Ubeli. I want to forget he even exists.”
“Well, that’s not likely to happen, seeing as how you’re married to him. But if you work with us—”
“I’m not going to testify!” Was this guy nuts?
The captain’s eyebrows scrunched together. “So maybe your so-called captivity wasn’t as unwanted as you’re calling it. You know lying to the police carries a penalty of—”
What the fuck? “I didn’t lie to you! I wasn’t lying about being kidnapped. Well, I mean, at the beginning, I thought it was the start to our honeymoon. But it all changed when he—when he— How dare you even suggest that I wanted what he was—” She pressed her hands to her head. “I didn’t want to be there with him. Not like that. But I don’t want to testify…”
“If you’re worried that he’ll get to you, punish you for talking to us—”
She flinched at the captain’s choice of words. Punish. That’s exactly what Marcus would do. Punish her in the most delicious way possible. Make her submit to his will and make her like it. “I’m not afraid of that…” Okay, she was. Because if she stayed to testify, there was no way Marcus wouldn’t find a way to get her back.
She jumped to her feet. “I want to get out of here.”
“Mrs. Ubeli—”
“Don’t call me that,” she snapped.
The captain’s face hardened. “You want to see what sort of monster you married?” He opened the file and photos spilled out. Bodies splayed and bloody, eyes open, faces contorted in fear, frozen in the moment they realized their oncoming death.
She recognized one face. The curly haired man who’d roofied her. He’d said he was following orders. He’d tried to warn her.
I’m gonna take care of you.
“This is what your husband does,” the captain ranted. “This is how he conducts his business.”
“Do you have proof?”
“No. That’s why we need you.”
Light dawned. Cora scraped the photos up with her fingernails and stacked them into a pile. “You want me to testify against him somehow. Say he did these things and confessed to me.”
Excitement flickered in the captain’s eyes. “Yes.”
“You want me to lie.”
He said nothing.
This city is a beast, Marcus told her once. Innocents fall and the criminals go unpunished.
“My husband doesn’t think he’s a criminal,” she told the captain quietly. “He thinks he’s dispensing justice.” Even when he didn’t want to. There were moments when they were together, where he hesitated. He could’ve destroyed her for what her family did to his sister. Instead, he’d…
“That’s what the cops and courts are for.”
The police do nothing. They’re either corrupt, or have no power. And here was proof. The captain wanted her to lie on the stand. She wasn’t about to give her freedom up in order to satisfy some police captain’s wet dreams of glory in capturing a notorious crime boss.
She just wanted to get the hell out of here.
“If you testify for the DA, we could get you what you want. Set you up with a new life. New identity. Ubeli would never be able to touch you. You’d be safe. Free.”
“You mean witness protection?”
He nodded. “Federal marshals would have your back. You could live somewhere nice and sunny, all year round. Pick your paradise.”
Cora’s eyes wandered to the mirror that covered one wall. She looked tiny. Pale with shadows under her eyes, her long hair snarled. Who was she to try to stand up against the Lord of the Underworld?
She closed her eyes, not able to bear looking at herself anymore. There were no good choices. She wasn’t a little girl anymore, shielded in her mother’s controlling arms. The world wasn’t a pretty place and she had to face it.