‘So why is it taking so long?’
‘We have had a little… resistance, shall we say. We needed to give him time. Allow him to focus, to understand that this isn’t up for negotiation.’
‘But he will pay?’
‘We certainly expect him to, and soon.’
She nodded and pondered over her next question. ‘What’s your name?’
‘It’s probably best you don’t know that,’ he said.
‘For me or you,’ she said.
‘For both of us.’
‘So you may get all this money, but you’ll have to live a life of secrets when this is all over. Will it be worth it?’
‘Do you care?’ he said, intrigued, his lips curving into a smile.
She shrugged. ‘I’m not sure.’
‘And you’re making all kinds of assumptions. How can you be so sure the money will be mine?’
The foundations of all she had assumed shifted beneath her. ‘What? But… I don’t understand.’
‘How do you know I’m not just an intermediary,’ he said. ‘Someone to arrange this situation.’
‘Why would you do that?’
‘Like I said, I owe people a favour.’
‘Who?’
He laughed softly. ‘Again, it’s best you don’t know.’
‘So you do need me alive then,’ she said. ‘To absolve you of your crime. It’ll all go wrong if I die before the money changes hands.’
‘Yes, but I always wanted you to survive.’
‘Ah, there you go again,’ she remarked. ‘Showing off your good side.’
Something dark hovered in his eyes. ‘I wouldn’t be so sure about that.’
‘You care that I get out of this alive, I’d say that’s pretty honourable.’
‘Maybe, but what if I said that there's something else I want now?’ He moved closer, so that they were almost touching. ‘Something much more interesting.’
‘And what is this elusive thing?’ she asked cautiously, feeling the intensity of his stare.
‘You, Elena.’
It was a simple statement, but it set off a whirlwind of chaos within her. She wasn’t sure which of her many reactions she should centre on first – the little flip her stomach made at his response, his intense gaze, or the fact that his statement, which should have worried her, didn’t.
His eyes scanned her face, a satisfied glint in his eyes. For a moment she thought he might kiss her and she wondered if she’d let him, but before she could decide, he turned to leave.
‘Wait,’ she cried, reaching for his arm. ‘You can’t say something like that and then go.’
He turned, a questioning expression across his handsome face. ‘No?’
She shook her head.
‘It might be better that I do,’ he said softly. ‘Because your reaction has confirmed what I thought all along.’ He placed a finger under her chin. ‘But whatever is going on between us isn’t something for now, and certainly not for this room.’
‘But you’ll come back, yes?’ she asked, caring little about what his words meant, only that he would return to her. ‘You’ll bring me my food again? Talk?’
‘Yes. I’ll come back.’
‘When? Today, tomorrow? I need to know,’ she said.
‘I’ll come tonight.’
She smiled and breathed in relief. ‘Yes. Good. Thank you.’
He turned the lock and she sat down, waiting for him to return.
Chapter 9
The slowness of time was almost unbearable. She had been pacing for what felt like hours, waiting to hear his footfall on the stairs. She’d made an extra effort to clean up and had scrubbed her teeth, allowing herself the luxury of an entire tab of chewing gum. She wanted to please, she wanted to spend time in another person’s company. His company. And she was getting restless.
When she did finally hear the thud on the stairs she jumped to her feet, butterflies dancing within, quickening her breath.
‘You came,’ she said as he walked into the room.
He shut the door and wandered to her, unhurried. ‘I have your food.’
‘Oh, yes, of course,’ she murmured as she took the bag that he handed to her. ‘Thank you.’
‘And I wanted to check that you hadn’t broken out,’ he said, his brow raised with amusement.
‘And are they the only reasons?’ she asked.
‘No, but you already know that.’
She nodded, she did know that and had thought of nothing else while he was away. Wanting to fill the silence, she glanced towards the exposed windowpane and tried to order her jumbled thoughts. ‘It was a beautiful day today. Where are we now? April? May?’
‘Beginning of May,’ he said, his eyes fixed on her.
‘May. Already?’ she said, her eyes wide. ‘So much time.’
‘You dream of the day you’re free,’ he said softly, so close now. ‘To leave this place, get back to your life.’
She glanced up at him, her body temperature rising, desperate for contact. ‘Yes, every day.’
He raised his hand to gently cup her cheek and the warmth of it seeped into her skin, branding itself onto her. An involuntary gasp escaped her lips as the sensation travelled to her core, and she found herself leaning in to his hold, wanting more. The contact was necessary, reviving, and she became rooted to the spot.
‘Isn’t this breaking the rules?’ she asked, wanting to say something, anything, that would hint at resistance.
‘I don’t give a damn about the rules,’ he replied, his mouth now tantalisingly close to hers. ‘And neither do you.’
She should pull away, she should resist, but she knew she wouldn’t. She needed this, needed him, and gazed at his mouth, anticipating the feel of his lips on hers.
The stillness in the room was broken by loud voices downstairs. Cigarettes and the doctor were arguing, their voices shouting over one another in a bid to be heard. She blinked, as if jolted awake and stepped back, the moment over.
He exhaled, glancing at the door. ‘I need to go and sort that out.’
She hugged her arms around herself, confused, but with warm desire flowing through her veins. ‘Yes, of course.’
He reached the door and hesitated, his hand against the frame. Without warning he turned, strode back to her and wrapped his arm around her waist, dragging her hard against him. He pressed his lips to hers with the same urgency and it gave her no time to think, no time to react before her mouth was responding, inviting him in, tasting him. Her body moulded to his, the line crossed and a moral code betrayed, as all she was aware of was the feel of him; his warm, heavenly scent, and strong body against hers.
All noise faded away, from downstairs and in her head, as her hands slipped around his neck and buried themselves into his hair, so soft and smooth, just as she had imagined. Small moans escaped from her mouth as his hands held her firm, unmoveable. Caught in his web.
He pulled back and she gazed into his eyes.
‘What have I done to you,’ he murmured as he ran a thumb temptingly over her lips, still wet from their kiss.
Something crashed to the floor downstairs. More shouting.
‘Jesus Christ,’ he growled. ‘I really should go and sort that out before they kill each other.’
‘Yes,’ she whispered.
He reluctantly released his hold and this time, he did leave. She watched, remaining where he’d left her, for how long, she wasn’t sure. Minutes and hours held no value here. She ignored the noise. All she could focus on was the memory of his lips on hers, how they tingled her skin. And the thought spun around in her mind, free to roam there. She sensed she was slipping off a precipice, but into what, she didn’t know.
***
The men had been arguing on and off for the past two days. Tension filled the air and her anxiety tightened, ready to snap. She lay down on the floor and placed her ear against the boards to try and get a sense of what was happening. But it was useless, she couldn’t catch any of the conversation.
Her captor stormed in, a thunderous look on his face and a sense of urgency that told her all she needed to know. One way or another, her ordeal was ending today.
She remained still, waited for his next move.
‘It’s time to go,’ he said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the same piece of cloth that was used to blindfold her before.
‘What?’ she stammered. ‘To go? My father? He paid the ransom, yes?’ she asked, questions rushing into her head all at once. ‘Did you see him?’
Relief washed over her, and she felt the joy that this horrible existence was soon going to be over.
He said nothing. She stared, trying to read his mood as he frowned and ran his hand through his hair. His mask of control appeared to slip as it had the other night. The sight of it made her feel a strange wrench that after today, she would never see him again.
‘No,’ he said simply.
She searched his eyes for the answers he wasn’t giving. ‘What?’
‘No, I haven’t seen him.’ He sighed but continued. ‘Your father has refused to pay the money.’
She floundered as his words shot through her like a physical blow, knocking the wind straight out of her. She slumped to her knees and stared at the old bare floorboards. ‘He didn’t pay?’ It was a whisper.
The cloth hung in his hand. ‘No, he didn’t pay.’ He crouched in front of her as he had done so many times before.
‘But why wouldn’t he?’ she asked, unable to process the absolute danger her father’s refusal had put her in. Pain burst in her chest, a large black cloud spilling out its acid rain, burning her insides as hurt and disbelief crushed her. She placed her hand over her heart.
‘My father is not paying my ransom to set me free.’ She spoke it again, hoping that it would help her to comprehend it. It was too much to hear that her parents had refused her freedom and potentially her life. For the sake of money. They chose wealth over their own flesh and blood. Something seemed to break inside – the part that connected her to her parents by blood – shattering into tiny little pieces, never to be repaired.
Shock stunned her, but slowly, as her mind began to process this new information, this new knowledge, any questions of why he hadn’t paid slipped away as a new, infinitely more horrifying one trampled into her mind.
What happens when ransoms aren’t paid, Elena? Come on now. You need to get this question right for the big money prize. You’ve got ten seconds on the clock. Tick-tock, Elena, tick-tock.
She let out a strangled cry of terror as it hit her. A juggernaut of thought that decimated and crushed all others in its path. Terrified, she scooted back away from the man who had been so kind to her but was here to finish this ordeal. Once and for all.
‘No, no, no!’ she screamed, all sense leaving her as the panic burst free.
He lunged at her and grabbed her shoulders as he caught up. ‘Elena, calm down. I’m not going to do anything,’ he said, locking eyes with her. ‘Nothing’s going to happen because I’m not going to let it. Do you understand?’
As his words seeped into her mind, she slumped forwards and let her head rest on his shoulder. She let out stifled sobs as his arms enveloped her, and allowed him to soothe her in this moment of need.
She didn’t know if he was telling the truth, but she’d let whatever he had planned happen. Even death no longer held its terrifying grip on her. She was without fight.
‘I’m getting you out of here,’ he said. ‘This was never part of the deal and has gone on long enough,’ he muttered under his breath. ‘It’s time to go.’
He wrapped his arm around her waist and walked her to the door as Cigarettes sauntered in, a phone in one hand, the other behind his back. ‘My, my. What have I walked into here?’
The sight of him sent a new shockwave of terror through her, and she was unable to calm her trembling body.
‘I told you to get the hell out,’ her captor ordered as he held her close. ‘You’ve been paid your money, now disappear.’
‘Yeah, I know, but I wanna do things my way now. Boss.’
Cigarettes wore a chilling smile as he pulled a gun from behind his back and aimed it straight at them.
Elena cried out and her captor stepped ahead of her, shielding her from Cigarettes. She gripped his arm, crumpling the fabric of his shirt in her palms. But his desire to protect her caused more fear than the gun itself, because the possibility of losing this man to a fatal gunshot wound was more unbearable than being victim to it herself.
‘You …’ her captor snarled, his body tense with rage.
‘What? What am I now, big man?’ Cigarettes said with a cold smile.
No one spoke as they waited for his next move, the seconds more like hours.
Cigarettes kept the gun aimed at them and turned his attention to his phone, punching numbers with his thumb. The man in front of her didn’t flinch.
‘Mr Dumont, I have your daughter here,’ Cigarettes said, his stare fixed on them both. ‘See, you’re supposed to pay the ransom for your child. That’s what you’re supposed to do,’ He paused, listening. ‘So why didn’t you do it?’
He shifted a little, but the aim was sure. ‘No, no, no, Mr Dumont, it’s too late for that. Far too late.’ He listened some more, happy to entertain whatever was being said. ‘Do you know what I’m doing right now?’ he asked. ‘I’m aiming a gun at your daughter’s head.’
He gasped out a laugh, finding humour in her father’s reaction.
‘Oh, come on now, Mr Dumont, you’ve made your decision, now it’s time to make mine. To kill or not to kill. I haven’t decided yet.’
He took one more step forward, and Elena held her breath as movement by the door caught her attention. The doctor stalked in, moving silently into the room. Her captor reacted too, his body tensing in recognition, and suddenly it felt that the balance of power might be tipping in their favour. Cigarettes was too busy tormenting her father to hear the floorboard creak.
‘Right, time’s up,’ he said as he moved, getting a better aim at Elena. ‘Time to say goodbye.’
Chapter 10
Elena watched as the doctor lunged at Cigarettes from behind. With both hands, he pulled Cigarettes’ arms up to the ceiling as the gun fired, and the phone clattered to the floor.
The bullet rammed into the decayed plasterwork, dusting them all in residue, like fragments of confetti at a wedding.
Her captor rushed forwards to help the doctor overpower Cigarettes who bucked and fought to be free. A foot collided with the phone on the floor, smashing plastic and glass, the first victim of this violence. The doctor snatched the gun from Cigarettes’ grasp and tossed it across the floor as she moved her focus to the small burnt hole in the ceiling and the little black lines trailing away from it. It looked like a strange black star. Her own little death star.
‘Elena!’ her captor shouted. ‘Grab the gun!’
She snapped into action, ran to where the gun had landed, and grabbed it. It was heavy and cold in her fingers, and she wanted to drop it, hating the feel of it. A tool to maim and kill.
Cigarettes roared out.
The doctor and her captor worked hard to restrain him, but Cigarettes’ rage made him a powerful force. In one swift move, he landed a punch to the doctor that had him out cold before he lunged at her captor. They fought, landing and receiving punches as they moved through the door and towards the broken staircase, stopping dangerously close to the top of the stairs.
Watching the commotion, she aimed the gun, holding it steady with both hands as her jaw clenched. She didn’t know how to use it, but she’d figure it out. She wouldn’t stand by and watch her captor die if something went wrong.
With his back to the stairwell, Cigarettes drew back his arm to throw another punch, but it unbalanced him, making him step back for a surer footing. There was nowhere to go, only the hollow space of the first stair tread, and the motion sent him spirallin
g backwards. With rasping breath and bulging eyes, he windmilled his arms in a frantic attempt to stop the momentum that would drag him down. It would have been comical if she hadn’t seen his face, ashen with fear as he tried to grab hold of something, anything, in a bid to save himself.
Her captor reached out, but he was not close enough and could only grasp at the tips of Cigarettes’ fingers, which slipped away. With nothing to stop him, he tumbled out of sight, his fall and anguished cry silenced by the sickening crack of bone snapping as he hit the floor below.
It was quiet, deathly, except for the quick breathing of her captor who stood and stared at the sight below. The doctor groaned as he regained consciousness but shook his head, quickly alert and staggered out on to the landing. Her captor and the doctor exchanged a telling glance, and they ventured down the stairs. Still silence. She remained, listening to their low, inaudible voices and it told Elena all she needed to know.
Nausea rose within her with an immediacy that wouldn’t be ignored. She placed the gun down and hurried to the corner of the room in time to vomit.
She listened to the sounds of activity downstairs as she waited, having no desire to leave the room. Doing that would mean potential freedom and she was at a sudden loss at how to deal with that. She cared little about seeing the remains of a man she hated more than anything. She felt nothing on that score – no regret or compassion, only relief that he couldn’t hurt her anymore.
After some time, her captor returned to her. He had a small cut on his mouth where he had taken a blow, and his hair was messed up a little, but other than that, he had no other obvious injuries.
She managed a faint smile as he strode towards her, but her expression crumpled, and she couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks. He pulled her close, whispering words to soothe and she grabbed him, burying her face in his chest.
He hugged her close, and there was an inevitability to the contact, that it was the beginning of the end for them.
‘We don’t have much time,’ he said with a sigh. ‘I’ve called the police and have given them this address. They’re coming for you.’
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