"This all makes me nervous," I admitted.
"Me too, but the worst that will happen is we won't get to rescue the girls. I'm still setting fire to the warehouse and burning that shit to the ground."
"But I want to save my friends," I argued. "They've helped raise me, and I love them."
"I know you do, and I want to do that too, but we need to think about ourselves first."
"Then why do this at all?"
"Because I want to try. I know what's right and what's wrong, and what my father does is wrong. He needs to be stopped."
I thought for a moment and then finally replied, "Okay." I trusted Frankie, and I had no clue if what we were going to do would work. I hoped that it would, and everyone would be set free of Mr. Russo and Madam.
Frankie continued to drive as I looked at the snow-covered trees and mountains I'd never seen before. It was so different from what I could see out the one window in my room at the house.
I yawned, and Frankie said, "You can get some sleep if you want. I'll wake you when we get within the city limits."
"Then I'll miss all this." I waved my hand.
"I'll make sure you see this and more one day."
"Promise?"
He stuck out his pinky. "Promise."
Chapter Twenty-One
An hour after Frankie and Zell left the cabin, Jackie had another visitor. This one came in the light of day, but it was still unexpected and proved that it wasn't only Frank Russo and some of his men who knew about the cabin.
Quinn Russo had known about the cabin since she’d started dating Frank in high school. One weekend during their senior year, Frank and Dominic took their girlfriends to the cabin. After that trip, Frank never spoke about the cabin to Quinn again. She didn't understand why, but it wasn't as though she ever wanted to go back. Being stuck in a cabin with nothing except books and a wood stove to keep warm wasn't fun for her. Quinn had grown up in luxury and had married into it as well.
Little did she know, living the life of luxury would come at a price.
She had married a criminal. And life became even worse after Dominic was murdered. Frank feared his family might be in trouble too, and ordered Quinn to not go outside without Frank or one of his men to protect her. She felt like one of Dominic's girls in the penthouse.
Yes, Quinn knew all about the penthouse. She also knew about the baby Frank gave to Saffron.
Quinn was taking care of her newborn son one night when Frank received a call from Saffron. He’d stepped out of the room, but Quinn had overheard his side of the conversation.
"Yeah? … She is? … Are you sure? … How long has she been in labor? … Did you call Dr. Spalding? … Okay, I'll be right there." Frank came back into the room. "I have to go."
"At this hour?" Quinn asked.
"You know how my business works."
"Your business is babies now?" Quinn knew not to question her husband, but the question was out of her mouth before she could stop it.
"It's a baby for Saffron."
"A baby for Saffron?"
"You know she has wanted one for years, and since Dominic … I'm doing this for her."
"It's an adoption?"
Frank looked away from Quinn's eyes, and she knew his next words would be a lie. "Yes. I found a young mother who didn't want her baby. I need to go."
A few days later, Quinn made a last-minute decision. After a doctor's appointment for her son, she instructed her driver/guard to take her to the penthouse. It wasn't unusual for Quinn to go to the penthouse. Saffron had been her best friend at one time, but since Dominic's death and the birth of Quinn's son, the two spent less and less time together. So much less that Quinn didn't know anything about Saffron adopting a baby.
As Quinn's car stopped at a light a block from the penthouse, she happened to see Frank getting into his own car. He wasn't alone. A young blonde got into the car first, but it looked forced because Frank grasped the poor girl's upper arm and all but pushed her into the car.
Was that the mother of the baby? Quinn thought to herself. Did she give birth in the penthouse? There was only one way for Quinn to find out.
The light turned green as Frank's car pulled away from the curb, and Quinn's driver pulled into the spot.
"I won't be long. I want Saffron to meet Frankie."
"Yes, ma'am," the driver had said.
After Quinn got herself and little Frankie out of the car, she went to the buzzer for the penthouse. Quinn pressed the button, and a moment later, the man Quinn knew as Scott answered.
"Membership number?"
Quinn knew what really went on in the penthouse, but that wasn't her problem. If a woman wanted to sell her body for money, that was her choice. Quinn didn't know at the time that the women weren't selling their bodies of their own free will, but she would learn one day.
"This is Quinn Russo. I'm here to see Saffron."
"Yes, ma'am," Scott had said, and then she heard the elevator descend.
With Frankie in his carrier, Quinn took the lift up to the thirty-third floor. The door opened, and Scott motioned for her to enter.
"Mrs. Russo is in her room." Since Dominic's death, Saffron had moved into the penthouse and out of the house she owned, but she didn't sell it.
"Thank you, Scott."
"Do you need me to help you carry the baby up?"
Quinn had smiled warmly. "No, I've got him."
Scott gave a tip of his head, and then Quinn took the stairs up two levels to where Saffron had her quarters. Quinn found Saffron in her sitting room, a newborn baby in a bassinet next to her chair.
"Can you believe we have babies at the same time?" Saffron had asked.
"I really can't," Quinn replied and set the carrier on the floor, taking a seat on the small loveseat next to Saffron. "I didn't even know Frank was working on this for you."
"It was a surprise for sure, but isn't she beautiful?"
Quinn stood and moved to the bassinet, peering inside and rubbing the baby's soft cheek. "She is. What did you name her?"
"Zell."
"Zell?" Quinn had arched a brow. "Why Zell?"
"Her birth mother had long blonde hair like that fairytale, and the name just came to me.”
Zell Dominique Devereaux.
Other than the falsified birth certificate, there was obviously no other legal documentation to show that Zell was Saffron's. But nothing the Russos did was legal.
"I think I just saw her leave with Frank."
"Yeah, he's taking her up to the cabin."
Quinn had drawn her head back slightly in surprise. "The cabin in the Catskills?"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
Saffron had shrugged. "It's better than working here. Plus, I didn't want her to try and take—I mean, change her mind about giving me the baby."
For the next month, Frank was going out of town on business each week, but Quinn's gut was telling her that Frank was at the cabin. So, she picked up her cell phone and dialed her husband's number.
It went straight to voicemail.
For the next eighteen years, Quinn thought about the girl with the long blonde hair, especially when Frank would need to take business trips. Quinn knew Frank was going to see her.
Quinn not only lost contact with Saffron, but she turned a blind eye to everything. It all happened after Frank pushed her one night when she had questioned his whereabouts, and Quinn hurt her back. Frank's doctor, who was on his payroll, told Frank that pain meds would help. Since that night, Quinn had been taking those meds to help with the pain that never went away.
Until Frank took Frankie to the penthouse on his eighteenth birthday.
Quinn didn't want her sweet boy to be with a whore. She didn't want her son to follow in his father's footsteps, but at that moment, she knew it was only a matter of time. Frankie was already selling drugs for Frank, and there was nothing Quinn could do about it. She couldn't sit back and watch her son become a criminal like his father. So, she left.<
br />
After she secretly packed a bag, took several stacks of cash Frank kept in his home safe, she left in a taxi. It wasn't like Quinn to leave without her driver/guard. The problem was, Quinn didn't know where she was going. She had no friends, she hadn't seen her family in years, and she hadn't been out of New York City in over eighteen years.
"Where to?" the cab driver had asked.
"Just to the nearest hotel." Quinn couldn't turn back. She needed to do this for herself. She needed and wanted to live her own life.
The cabbie had looked at her through the rearview mirror as though she were crazy. "The nearest hotel?"
"Yes," Quinn had confirmed. "That will be fine."
The cab driver had shaken his head in amazement as he drove away from the curb, only to drive around the corner and stop. "Here you go."
Quinn had blinked. "Here?"
"This is the nearest," the driver had stated.
Quinn couldn't be that close to home while on the run, could she? But then maybe Frank wouldn't think to search for her only a block away because who would be that crazy to stay within a stone's throw?
She opened her bag and pulled out a twenty, handing it to the driver. "Sorry for the trouble. Keep the change."
Quinn had gotten out of the car and hurried into the lobby of the hotel. She checked into a room for three days, hoping that was enough time to come up with a plan to get out of the city. When she got up to her room, Quinn realized that in her hasty escape, she had forgotten her bottle of pills. She knew deep down that her back was better, but when you become dependent on a substance, your brain tells you differently, and your body craves the drug.
Instead of going home, Quinn took that time to detox. She didn't know the agony would last almost a month, but it did, and Quinn had thought on several occasions that she was going to die—sometimes she wanted to. But she hung in there, making sure to stay hydrated and ordering soup from room service often. Finally, after three weeks, Quinn started to feel like herself again, and she knew that she had survived.
Since Quinn was alive and well, she had a clear head, so clear that she knew she needed to help that young blonde girl from eighteen years ago. Quinn didn't know if the blonde was still at the cabin, but she knew that Frank had gone there only a month before. If she wasn't there when Quinn arrived, at least she would know and then that would be that. She would move on with her life and start over somewhere.
Quinn checked out of the hotel and took a cab to a car rental where she rented the cheapest car. It was nothing like she was used to, but she wouldn't be able to afford the life of luxury on her own with the few thousands of dollars that she had taken from the safe. She had to be smart.
While she drove up to the cabin she had only been to once before, she thought she would get lost. To Quinn's surprise, the country store was still on the corner where she remembered turning. And when she pulled up to the small cabin, Quinn saw the blonde she was looking for.
Now, she needed to figure out what the hell she was going to do about it.
When I stopped for gas on the way back to the city, I bought disposable cell phones for Zell and me in case we needed them for anything while we completed the plan. I also grabbed a gas can full of fuel to take with us. I'd never set anything on fire before, but pouring gasoline on a building and throwing a lit match onto it would have to work. And if I could kill a guy in cold blood, I could set a fucking building on fire.
I wasn't totally okay with the fact that I had killed a guy even though it had to be done—for a few reasons. The asshole had raped Zell, and then my father ordered me to kill the guy. I didn't put up a fight because I was so angry. I didn't even hesitate when I pulled the trigger. I just shot him and left.
I was definitely a Russo.
Before I drove us to the warehouse, I stopped at the bank and withdrew all of my money I had in the account. It was tens of thousands of dollars—in several cashier checks. My father was a co-holder, but I didn't care if he was tracking my account. I was back in the city, and he would hopefully assume that Zell and I had stayed the night there.
As I pulled away from the bank, I chuckled.
"What?" Zell asked.
"I feel like I just robbed the place."
"It was that much money?"
I lifted a shoulder, pulling into the constant traffic of New York City. "If I wanted to spend it all at once, I could buy us a car." Speaking of, I knew I needed to dump the van. Not because of GPS tracking—the van didn't have it—but because Zell was fucking raped in the thing. No way did I want to drive it all the way across the country. Plus, a car would get better gas mileage.
"You know, this is the first car I've ever been in."
"Really?" I furrowed my brow.
Zell nodded. "I walked across the street to feed the ducks, and I never got to do anything else."
"Well, we're going to fucking change that as soon as we do what we came to do."
"I hope we pull it off."
I reached over and squeezed her knee. "Me too, princess."
On the way to the warehouse, we went over the plan. Essentially, I would be doing it all, and Zell would be my lookout. Once we got to my father's club, she would go inside with me to free the girls as fast as we could. I knew there was going to be a guard with them as they got ready, but I still had my gun, and hopefully as far as they knew, I was their boss. Even if they put up a fight, I didn't think any of them would shoot me without my father telling them to do it.
"Are you ready?" I asked as I parked the van just outside of the warehouse. There were cameras, but I didn't care if my father saw me. The auction was starting in an hour, and I knew they had left only a few minutes before with the merchandise.
"I just stay here, right?"
"Yes, and call the cell phone if you see someone driving up."
"Okay."
I started to get out of the van but then stopped and turned back to her. I knew she was scared because I was too. In the past several hours, we had both been through shit we never thought would happen. I leaned over and cupped her cheek, bringing her lips to mine. It was the first time in over a week that I had felt her soft lips, and I couldn't leave to go into the unknown without tasting her another time. "I'll be right back."
"Okay." She smiled and touched her finger to her bottom lip as though she could still feel our kiss. It was still cracked from Enrique hitting her, but it didn't look as bad now that it was cleaned up.
"Make sure you have the number up and ready to hit the call button," I stated as I opened the door.
She waved the cheap phone. "Already ready."
I closed the door and walked to the back of the van to pull out the gas can. I needed to hurry. I knew I couldn't set the steel building on fire from the outside, so I took a deep breath, entered the code to get into the building, and walked inside. I didn't see anyone, and the cages were empty. I took a few pictures of the cages in case my plan worked and I needed evidence one day.
Uncapping the plastic container, I hurried to my father's office, knowing that was my best bet to start the fire. It had paper to catch fire, unlike the concrete floor and metal walls of the building. Maybe trying to set the warehouse on fire wasn't such a good idea, but it was the only thing I could think of to do.
I paused before pouring the gas. Starting a fire in my father's office would destroy all evidence of his operation. But I had to do something. I had to at least try to cause a diversion. So, I took a few quick pictures of everything sitting on my father's desk before I poured the gasoline all over the office, struck the matchstick with the matchbook, and then threw the orange flame onto a pile of papers on the desk and left, leaving the gas can behind.
I ran out of there, opening the door on a bang and sprinted for the van. "No one came?" I asked as I got inside.
"No, I didn't see anyone."
"Good. Let's go."
I cranked the engine and sped off.
As I drove toward my father's club, my nervousness tri
pled. Setting the warehouse on fire seemed like a good plan in my head, but the execution probably wouldn't get the entire job done since it was a steel building. My confidence was slipping.
I was no master criminal.
I was no evil genius.
And I was no knight in shining armor.
I wanted to go into the club and rescue the girls as we had planned, but what if that turned to shit too? What if my father had no clue that the warehouse was on fire and he stayed at the club to handle the auction? What if Zell and I walked in through the back door of the place, and I was face to face with him? What the fuck would happen? Would he kill me? Would he hesitate before killing Zell? Knowing that she wasn't Madam's biological daughter meant he probably didn't care about Zell at all, even if he had some sort of sick relationship with Jackie.
I pulled the van into an alley and parked. "I don't think I can do this."
"Why?" Zell questioned.
"I feel like it's a lost cause."
"Why?" she asked again.
"Because I suck at starting fires apparently, and I don't think the diversion will work now."
"Then what do we need to do?"
"Let's just leave town again," I suggested. "I have money now. We can do that plan."
"What about my friends at the penthouse? We have to help them."
I sighed and leaned my head against the headrest. What the fuck should I do? Ironically enough, my father would know what to do. He had a no holds barred mentality and would probably go in guns blazing with his men. But I didn't have men. I had my girl, and my number one priority was keeping her safe.
"Fuck, I don't know, princess."
"What if we just go to the penthouse and free them?" Zell suggested.
"And how do you think we can do that when I couldn't do that for you?"
"You have a gun now. Just use that."
I grunted. "You think I'm some gangster that can just go in—no holds barred—and kill anyone who stands in my way?"
"I don't know what that means, but you said we would save them too, and so we just need to do what you had planned before."
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