“No, I’d be down there already.”
“And you think I’m stupid for not being?” He smiles and loads the clip back in, taking his time to prolong whatever big brother thinks of my plan.
“Do you?” he eventually asks.
“What?”
“Think you’re being a fucking idiot for not being there already?”
“No.”
“Then why you asking?” He puts the gun down between us on the table and stares out into the night, one leg crossing the other as he picks up his coffee. I don’t know why I’m asking. Approval maybe. Fuck knows. The air thickens as he slowly turns to look at me, the stain of years of death beginning to show on his features. “Your woman. Your game, Nate. You play it how you want.”
My shoulders square off at the slight smirk that crosses his lips, gaze directed back out to the skyline again. Screw him and his games. He’d have gotten his fucking dice out and gambled her life away on the roll of them. Not this time. She’s worth more than that to me.
“You’re still an asshole, Quinn.”
He nods and drinks some coffee, refreshing his phone to see if anything new has come in. Nothing has, so he puts it down next to the gun between us and closes his eyes.
And we wait some more.
Four hours we’ve waited. Four hours of me holding my breath and brooding over what events might unfold, and four hours of Quinn having even his patience tested. He’s snapped from his cool demeanour now, started pacing the room like a caged dog and pushing me to make the call myself, find a route in without waiting any longer. I haven’t budged, refused to. This is the way we get in with the least threat to Gabby’s life and those of our men. I’m not being moved on my plan.
“You’re acting like a goddamn pussy,” he spits, hand thrown into the air as if I’m a child who needs a reprimand. Screw him.
I stare back at him from my seat on the balcony and then look back out into the night, refusing to engage with him. He can use that anger when I give him the power to, not before.
“Save your energy for someone who deserves it, Quinn,” I mutter, barely acknowledging the mild tantrum that’s beginning to erupt. “Patience is a virtue.”
He mumbles about something and then disappears into the bathroom, the door slamming in his wake. So, I stare some more and keep waiting, unsure how long it will take and beginning to question my plan. My restlessness is starting to turn into fear—fear for her wellbeing, fear for her life. I can imagine what they’re doing to her. All I have to do is think back to how we once were, and it’s all there for me to visualise. Pain. Suffering. Torture and rape. I tried to tell myself it never was rape, that it was just debts, but the sickness I felt then still haunts me now.
“At ten tonight,” Quinn says. I frown and look back at him, feet already walking back into the room. He puts a finger to his mouth and presses the phone onto speaker, placing it onto the centre table as he pulls his dice out of his pocket.
“Yes. An empty warehouse near the marina off Virginia Key,” a woman’s voice replies. It’s educated, American. “You should have time to get here by then.” I check my watch—five hours. Plenty of time to fly from Chicago to Miami. Not that we’ll be doing that, but at least she thinks we will be. “You’ll be met at the east entrance and guided in.” My brow raises, fingers tapping the details into my own phone to send out to our guys. “Mr Cane, this is an invitation to talk, nothing more. You understand?” Quinn sneers. I understand the look well. Is it hell. Terms would be discussed on the phone.
This is an invite to war.
“You’ve taken something that belongs to us. Hardly a negotiation,” he says, dice rolling in his palm. “More like a threat.”
She laughs lightly, heels tapping the floor as she walks around. “Mr Cane, unfortunately your reputation precedes you and we thought a little insurance would make terms easier to discuss.” He looks more interested in that thought than he should, almost smiling. “For all concerned. She is useful for our negotiations.” There’s silence for a few seconds, and my blood continues boiling at the thought of her being useful. “I’m sure this will be as amicable as you’d like to make it. Acquisitions should be discussed with a sense of decorum.”
I mouth Gabby’s name at him, desperate for further information about her, and not giving one fuck for anything we own. He nods and goes for the liquor cabinet, snatching out a small bottle of scotch.
“Is the woman harmed?”
“She is…” There’s a pause, long enough to have my damn heart lurching. “Breathing well enough.” All sorts of images flood my mind. Blood. Tears. Scratches on that pristine skin of hers. “She’s a handful, hmm?” I move to grab the phone, fury bellowing up through me about ready to explode all over whoever the hell this woman is. Quinn knocks my hand away before I get to it, his grip hoisting my arm up behind my back and his other finger tapping my skull. Think. He’s right. Calm down and think.
Fuck that.
“Good. Then we have a chance to talk rationally,” he says calmly into the air. Jesus Christ, how does he do that? I twist in his hold, body trying to curl away from his pressure. I can feel venom and bile and hatred coursing through me like nothing before. It’s vengeance, pure and simple. Every inch of patience I’ve used is at its damn tether’s end.
“Rationally. Yes, that’s a good word for discussions. The family will be pleased,” she says, walking somewhere again. He shoves me away across the room, a finger held up to stop me going back to the table.
“I need proof she’s alive,” he grates out, still boring his eyes into mine from six feet away. I shake myself down, tilting my neck about to try to contain the temper that’s flaring.
“A picture of our insurance, yes? So, you understand our position clearly?” Fucking insurance. I’ll kill the bitch. I’ll wring her fucking neck out and feed her to the–
“Yes,” Quinn says coolly, cutting off my internal rage and reaching for his drink.
“Very well. I’ll send one,” she replies. My eyes drag to the phone immediately, waiting for an alert to sound. That’s all I care about. Seeing her. Seeing that she’s not harmed. I’m no damn fool, though. I know what’s coming whether I want to see it or not. “I suggest you bring your intelligent head with you, Mr Cane. Scuffles will not be tolerated.”
Scuffles? I just about hold in the growl that wants to erupt. Quinn chuckles. Asshole. “I’m extremely serious, Mr Cane.”
“As am I,” he says, downing his drink. “Ten tonight. I’ll be there.”
He ends the call before I have a chance to move, not giving me any time to interject or ask more about the situation.
“The hell did you do that for?” I spit, annoyance ringing in my tone.
“There was nothing else to say.” He walks back to the liquor cabinet, hoisting out two more bottles and throwing one at me. “Have a fucking drink and calm down. Get your game head back on. This shit,” he sneers at my body, clearly irritated with my aggressive stance, “is no fucking use to anyone.” Asshole. “Where’s the thinker gone, Nate? Think.”
Jesus.
My fingers screw the lid off the damn bottle, and I glug the contents down in one. He’s right. Think. Calm down. I glare at the phone on the table waiting for the image to come in so I can see she’s okay. Quinn backs off to a chair in the corner, a half smile covering his sigh.
“You’re not gonna like it, Nate. You know that, right?” he mutters.
He’s goddamn right I’m not, but it’s proof that some element of her is still alive. And right now, no matter what state I see her in, that will be enough for me. I’ve got five hours before I can see the real woman, do something about it all. So that picture is all I’ve got until then. That and another fucking wait.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Mr Cane, your reputation precedes you…She is…breathing well enough…I’ll send one…Mr Cane.” A woman’s voice trickles through my mind as I try to grasp hold of something. Anything.
T
here’s one thing I can. Cane.
Nate.
The clip-clop of shoes on the concrete pierces my ears and brings me around further. I recognise that voice. It might be buried, but I’ve heard it before.
Nate.
She was talking to Nate. Please let this not be a dream.
The voice and words drift away, getting softer until there’s nothing but quiet again.
My shoulder aches. My hip aches. Most of my body aches and no matter how much I try, I can’t find a comfortable spot. Not surprising in this stupid cage. It’s designed for a dog, not a person. But that’s what they want, isn’t it? They didn’t invite me here to talk. I’ve been here too long for that.
The dull ache in my jaw has stopped throbbing enough that I can close my eyes. Not that I’ll be able to get any sleep. I fear I’ll need exhaustion to pull my mind to slumber. When I close my eyes, the horrors from the last few days—is it even days?—float into my mind like a film I can’t get out of my head.
They took Andreas away, his body broken and bleeding over the floor. He didn’t look at me or try to catch my eye, and I refuse to acknowledge the thought of what might have happened to him. I can’t. I need to be strong. For what? I’m not sure yet, but I’m trying.
I twist over and bite down as my shoulder screams in pain at my move. My back’s to the door. I don’t want to see the men coming in and out any longer. Every time I hear the squeak of the door, my body freezes, and I play a game with myself. I dare myself not to look at who’s come in. Of course, I lose. Fear overcomes my rational thought process, and I try to guess what they’ve come in for. To check on me? Bring me food? Something else?
When I make it onto my other side, I pull up into a defensive position and relax my head onto the floor. As I lie here, the throbbing in my jaw starts again, and I close my eyes and hope that the pain will be a distraction from my surroundings. I screw them up tight, scrunching them shut to keep the tears from falling. That’s all I want right now, to keep my emotions inside. I can fall apart when I’m safe. Now isn’t the time.
Now isn’t the time.
All of a sudden, I feel warm. Warm and centred. Like everything in the world is okay. Nate’s voice drifts through my mind, and I feel my mouth curve into a smile. Will there ever be a time when I don’t smile at the thought of him? I hope not. But something doesn’t make sense. It’s not Nate’s name I’m hearing. An echo…A memory. Something I need to remember? My mind struggles with the tendrils of information knotting together and confusing me. I can’t make sense of it all, but I know I don’t want to let the threads go. There’s something I need here. Something important to hold onto.
“Wakey wakey.” A smooth voice invades my mind, but I don’t want to let go of Nate. “I said, wake the fuck up.”
My mind is completely alert as the cage rattles around me, but I keep my body still, showing no sign I’m conscious. Even my breathing slows to prevent my chest rising and falling so dramatically, even though I want nothing more than to suck some much-needed air into my lungs.
I gasp, as cold water hits my face. The shock hits my system, and I move, waiting to escape the ice water. After a few seconds the soaking stops, and my tongue licks out over my lips, collecting as much of the water from my skin as I can.
“Too bad you didn’t listen. Could have drunk it all. Maybe you’ll learn next time.”
“Asshole,” I murmur.
I’ve not been given any water or food since I was on the plane, and the trickle of water snaking through my hair has me pulling it to my mouth and sucking the moisture from it. It barely coats my tongue.
I look around and see the man slouching against the far wall.
“Ready to go for a walk?”
I don’t answer but wait to find out what he’s come in here for. The size of the cage doesn’t allow for much movement, but I shuffle around so I’m sitting, my back to the far side, so I can see the man in the room.
He’s new. At least, he’s not been in here with me before. He’s solidly built with dirty hair hanging to his shoulders. This isn’t the same calibre of man who’ve been watching me so far. They’ve been smaller, more clean-cut. This one has my gut rolling in my stomach for a whole other reason.
Finally, he approaches the cage and unlocks the padlock. He reaches inside to try to grab me, but I bat him away. “Bitch, don’t make this any worse.” I shove my leg out and connect my foot to his chest, wishing it was his face.
But the more I thrash, the calmer he seems. He reaches back inside and grabs my ankle, yanking me onto my back and ripping me from the cage. The material of my clothes doesn’t protect my skin from the rough treatment and I feel it break as I slide over the dirt floor.
He drops my leg and the rest of me on the floor. My fingers dig into dust and grit as I put my hands out to stand. As much as I’d love to stay here huddled on the floor, I can’t.
The bear of a man is back in the corner of the room, sporting a leery smile and exposing a gold tooth.
“Now, play nice. Boss woman wants to see you.”
The woman.
The one I saw on the plane.
“Go to the bathroom and clean up. How ‘bout you try something, because I’d love an excuse to beat on your pretty little ass.”
My legs wobble as I stand straight and take a step. My muscles scream in protest and I wince in pain, trying desperately not to show him my weakness. He opens the door in the corner of the room to a grim-looking bathroom. The smell of sewage hits my nose and chokes my breath, but I have no choice. The tap in the filthy sink isn’t connected. I’m surprised the toilet even flushes.
The man is still lingering outside the door when I come out, showing me more of his tooth. The urge to elbow him in the jaw and knock out that piece of crap metal wakes me up and kick-starts my adrenalin again. “Do you have another bottle of water?”
“Bitch, you don’t get to ask for a damn thing.” He leers over my body, tongue flicking out over his lips. “If it’s a question of something you have that I want, now we’re talking.”
For the first time since I arrived, I want to go back into that awful cage. At least I’d be safe in there from this sleaze. My stomach lurches as my mind pictures a future I dread. God help me it won’t transpire, although right now I still have no idea what they want with me. The only way to find out is to have a conversation with the woman who brought me here.
“Just take me to whoever this boss lady is.” I walk ahead and towards the exit, my feet planting solidly on the dusty concrete while I hope they keep me vertical.
“This way,” the man rumbles and grips me around the neck with his hand. All the muscles in my body freeze at what he might do, but he simply steers me through a series of small, disused rooms, much like the one I’ve been housed in. Then we turn and step through an open doorway into a much lighter, cleaner room. There’s even a desk at the far end, and at the head, the woman I recognise from the plane.
“Come in. Sit.” She nods her head towards the seat in front of the desk waiting for me. I do my best to shrug out of the hold my current minder has on me and walk to my hot seat.
I cross my legs and keep my hands together. Nerves pump through my every cell and if I’m not careful, I’ll give away just how frightened I really am. My job is to stay alive and, if possible, get my brother out of trouble.
“Your brother hasn’t been very forthcoming with our questions or our requests. I’m hoping you will choose a different tact.” She raises one of her overly plucked eyebrows and looks down her pointed nose at me. She looks like a witch, but there’s no way I’d try anything with her. She has a look about her, one that screams caution.
“I’m not sure what I can tell you that my brother can’t.”
“We’ll see. How long have you been working with him?”
“All my life. We’re siblings. I’ve always worked alongside him.” It isn’t a lie. It isn’t the whole truth, either.
“Good. You seem smarter than him al
ready. I can see you like the finer things in life perhaps?”
“I’m not sure what you mean?” Her question worries me. Like she already has all the answers and she’s just playing with me.
“And what of his connection with Marco Mortoni?”
“They did a deal together. Andreas wanted to grow his business.”
“More drugs through the Port.”
“No, diamonds,” I confirm. Surely, she knows all of this.
“The diamonds.” She picks up a case from her side and opens it. I can see a velvet lining cushioning a scattering of stones.
“I think you'll find those are mine.” My mouth speaks before I’ve engaged my brain and I regret it instantly.
A shock of pain radiates from the side of my face, and I stumble from my chair. I didn’t even see him sneak up. I can certainly feel it. The tang of copper seeps around my mouth and makes my taste buds tingle. I drag myself back up onto the chair and look at my assailant. He’s smiling again, showing an additional gold tooth on the other side of his mouth.
“Now, who is your supplier? We don’t just plan on taking your brother’s business, but yours as well.” She looks me straight in the eye as if I haven’t been knocked off my chair with a punch.
I stare right back at her but keep my mouth shut.
She nods, and this time, I grip the edge of the chair for balance. Now I know he’s here, he positions himself so he can land a punch right into my mouth again. The throb burns through my skin and my eyes begin to water from the pain. I clamp my teeth together, forcing my mouth closed.
“Loyal. Interesting.”
“You won’t get anything from me?” I state as firmly as possible. My blood churns inside of me with a fear so acute it expands from my chest and threatens to consume me.
She laughs lightly, her fingers tapping the table. “The key to all of this is your brother’s control over the port. It’s the reason we’re here. To open everything on the east coast up to us. You are the weak link, and through you we’ll get what we want. Men have such a weakness for their women.” Her words chill me to the bone and I start to shake. “You’ve been very useful, Gabriella. Even if you tell us nothing. As well as your brother, you’ve also given us leverage over an adversary we’re very much looking forward to working with.”
Devious Eyes (A Cane Novel Book 2) Page 22