by Izzy Sweet
Getting out of the car, I go to her door and open it. After helping her out by the arm, I stand in front of her for a long time.
She’s small compared to me, tiny really. Somewhere inside of myself I feel this odd desire to wrap her tight in my arms. I want to whisper words of comfort, but that shit won’t work. She needs to know the truth of what’s going on.
If she wasn’t so damn ethereal and beautiful, I would just throw her in the closet and forget about her for a couple of weeks.
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my folding knife. I snap it open in front of her and she lets out a small gasp.
Taking her hands, I slice through the zip tie.
Taking the cut zip tie with me, I turn away from her before I throw her over my shoulders and carry her off like some fucking caveman.
Fuck, I can’t even explain it but I want to fucking own this woman. I want to carry her up to my bed and mark her and fuck her until she forgets she ever heard the name Ivan.
And I just might do that if I don’t get a fucking grip on myself.
“You have a new reality, Amy. You can walk out of this house at any time, taking your daughter with you,” I say as I open the door connecting the garage to the house.
Walking into the kitchen, I toss the zip tie in the garbage can, then head to the fridge for something cold and preferably alcoholic.
“What… What do you mean?”
Not looking at her, because then I’d want her lips, I say, “Exactly as I said. You can walk out that door right now. I won’t hold you here.”
It’s obvious she’s not all looks though when she asks, “What’s the catch?”
“You will have the life expectancy of five hours. The Russians will be looking for you soon. They don’t like it when one of their rich boys go missing. They will find you, then they will ask you questions you don’t have answers to. When you can’t tell them what they want to know, they’ll get rid of you. If you’re lucky, they’ll put you down like an old horse. But more than likely they’ll sell you off to a slave ring.”
She lets out a very quiet sigh as she asks, “Or?”
Turning to her, I hold out a bottle of beer. “You and Abigail stay here with me. Under my protection.”
She shakes her head at the beer. I shrug and put it back in the fridge. Closing the fridge, I pop the top of my bottle and set it on the counter to take off my suit jacket.
“What, like your sex slave?”
Growling, I say, “I don’t use women like that. I’ve said that already, and I hate repeating myself.”
“What happens when your boss, Lucifer, doesn’t want us around anymore?”
“You’ll be mine, so that won’t happen.”
Growling right back at me, she says, “I’m not anyone’s!”
“We’ll see,” I say as I leave the kitchen. Then I shout over my shoulder, “I wouldn’t bother running to your aunt’s. That’s the first place anyone would check.”
5
Amy
The man from the shadows, the man Lucifer called Andrew, walks into his living room, sits down on his couch, and flips on his TV like it’s the most normal thing in the world. He kicks his feet up, propping them up on his coffee table, and leans back, taking a deep drink from his beer.
From the kitchen, I watch with dismay as he lifts his remote and starts flipping through channels.
Shaking my head, I try to clear it.
I’ve stepped into the Twilight Zone… That’s the only thing that makes sense.
An hour ago, I was in a dark, grimy warehouse with that man and my life was in peril. Now we’re here, in this perfectly normal looking house, and he’s drinking a beer while watching the sports channel.
I don’t even know how to begin coping with this.
I could try to make a run for it. Looking towards the door, it’s tempting as hell. My hand longs to reach for the handle, my fingers ache to twist it open to freedom.
And he’s not even bothering to keep me from doing it.
But then, that only makes his earlier warning seem that much more legit.
No doubt he’s not trying to prevent me from leaving because he was being completely honest.
I’m a dead woman if I walk out that door. I’m trapped here with him.
Unless that’s just what he wants me to believe…
Fuck. What do I do? Do I risk it?
Unable to bring myself to join him in front of the TV, I pace back and forth in his kitchen, trying to come up with a plan. There has to be a way to get Abigail and I out of this mess.
But even if I were able to get us away, where would we go? They already know about my aunt, and she’s the only family I have. I do have a little bit of money saved up, but it’s not much. After Ivan got me fired from my job because I used it as an excuse to avoid going out with him, I’ve had a hell of a time trying to find another position.
We could make a run for Mexico… but with the cartels there, we’re probably better off heading for Canada. I could rent a car and ditch it as soon as we make it across the border but then what? I don’t exactly have the connections to start over. We would need new identities and the papers to go with them.
Fuck, I don’t even have our real identities. I don’t have my purse or my wallet, and I have no idea where I left them.
Coming to a stop, I lean against the wall and have the strongest urge to bang my head against it. I feel so stupid for getting myself in this mess. I feel so stupid for being flattered by Ivan’s attention.
Men have caused me nothing but trouble. You’d think after Abigail’s father left us high and dry I would have learned from my mistake.
I’m not sure how long I lean against the wall, trying to keep my shit together. But as soon as I hear the door opening behind me, I whip around to face whoever is coming through it.
“Mommy!” Abigail cries out and rushes over to me.
Wrapping my arms around my little girl instantly makes me feel a little better. Bending down, I hug her tightly until she wiggles her way out of my arms.
“Johnathan,” Andrew says, standing from the couch and nodding his head at the man that came in behind Abigail.
I glance towards Johnathan and then have to do a double take. If he wasn’t so gigantic and fierce looking, he’d look absurd. With his long, dirty blonde hair and tattoos all over his neck and hands, he looks like someone squeezed a grungy biker into a designer black suit.
Johnathan scowls and thrusts out his arm, and that’s when I notice he’s holding out Abigail’s Beauty and the Beast backpack.
“This came with it,” he rumbles.
Andrew frowns at the backpack like he doesn’t know what to do with it. The two men then seem to have a stare off before Johnathan shrugs and opens his hand, letting the backpack fall to the floor.
“Mommy,” Abigail says, tugging on my hand to get my attention.
“Yes, sweetie?” I ask, tearing my eyes away from the two menacing men as they talk quietly to each other.
Abigail beams up at me. “Johnny let me have chocolate ice cream for dinner.”
“What?” I blink down at her.
Johnathan grumbles and stops talking to Andrew to turn an accusing eye on my daughter. “You weren’t supposed to tell anyone.”
I frown at him and start to step in front of her, not liking the way he’s looking at her or talking to her.
Abigail pops her head out from behind me though and then says cheerfully, “He also let me have some coke.”
“What?!” I snap. Did I just hear that right?
Johnathan takes a nervous step back and throws his hands up. “I only gave it to her to get her to stop crying.”
“You gave my daughter coke to calm her down?!” I repeat incredulously.
“He told me only two sips but I really liked it, Mommy, so I drank the whole the can!”
I shake my head in disbelief. She’s going to be up all night. Even now she’s struggling to stay still. She bounces on her toes
beside me and then her eyes widen as she takes in the house.
She tries to pull away from me to explore, but I grab her by the hand and tug her close.
I haven’t forgotten for a second what kind of men these two are.
Abigail keeps tugging on me though and eventually I give in. Using my hand to drag me behind her, she darts around Andrew’s house, taking everything in.
“Johnny told me we were going to be staying with Andrew for awhile,” she babbles happily as she leads me over to a bookcase.
“He did, did he?” I groan. “What else did Johnny tell you?”
Instead of telling me, she comes to an abrupt stop and then blinks up innocently at me. “Is Andrew your new boyfriend, Mommy?” she asks, her big blue eyes full of twinkling innocence.
“Good god, no,” I exclaim immediately, and take a deep breath to get over the shock of the question.
“Okay!” Abigail says cheerfully, completely unfazed by my reaction, and tugs me over to the TV.
I don’t know how she does it, she must have some sixth sense when it comes to televisions, but she picks up his remote off the table and is able to flip through his channels until she finds a cartoon she wants to watch.
I watch her become engrossed in the cartoon and I can’t explain how I feel.
I’m happy Abigail is fine and doesn’t realize something bad is happening, but I’m also scared out of my wits. I’m terrified that I won’t be able to protect her from whatever is going to happen here.
She’s so young, completely oblivious, and totally vulnerable.
If they kill me, what will happen to her?
The cold spike of terror that slices through me is so strong I almost drop to my knees. Heart hammering behind my ribs, I push that thought out of my head. If I keep thinking like that I’ll never figure out a good way to get us out of this.
I decide to take a seat on the couch while she chooses to stand in front of it, bouncing up and down.
In front of the door, Andrew and Johnathan continue to talk quietly, scowling at each other. I try to watch them inconspicuously, dividing my attention between them and Abigail, but I learn nothing new.
I wish I could hear what they’re discussing but I can’t hear anything over Abigail’s cartoon.
Finally, after a few more minutes, Johnathan leaves and Andrew disappears into the kitchen before reappearing with a fresh beer. Picking Abigail’s backpack off the floor, he carries it over to me, and my muscles tense up as he drops it at my feet.
I half expect him to try to take a seat beside me but after a moment he turns away and walks over to a recliner. Dropping down into the recliner, I feel his dark eyes glaring at me as he leans back and drinks his beer.
Keeping my eyes focused forward, it’s everything I can do to keep from peeking over at him.
How do I get us out of this mess? How do I get us to safety?
Without my wallet, escape feels impossible. But there must be another way… there must be something I didn’t think of.
If I had access to my money, if I could make it to the bank, we wouldn’t even need to drive all the way to Canada. We’d only need to make it to the airport. We could hop on a plane and go anywhere…
But I would need our passports.
Fuck, getting away feels like an impossible feat.
Feeling Andrew’s eyes boring into me, I slowly turn my head to look at him. Jaw clenched and eyes narrowed, he stares at me with what looks like unabashed loathing.
I don’t know what I did to deserve to earn such hatred. He said he would protect us, but he must be thinking twice about it now.
“She asleep?” Andrew asks gruffly, yanking me out of my thoughts.
Glancing down, I see that Abigail has curled up beside me into a little ball.
She must have crashed from all the sugar Johnathan gave her.
Looking up at Andrew, I nod my head at him. He sets his bottle down and stands from the recliner. Walking over to us, I feel myself tensing up, not sure what he means to do.
He bends down and I pull back, retreating into the cushions of the couch.
His dark eyes lock on mine as if daring me to do something and then he picks up Abigail’s sleeping form.
My heart jumps into my throat and I immediately hate seeing her in his arms. Cradled in his hold, she looks so vulnerable, so fragile. I reach out but he takes a step back before I can grab her.
She doesn’t even realize the danger she’s in. Murmuring, she snuggles up to him and his arms tighten protectively around her.
“I can carry her…” I protest.
He completely ignores me.
“Follow me and I’ll show you to your room,” he says, turning away and walking off.
Jumping up from the couch, I grab her backpack and follow closely on his heels.
Every little anxious nerve in my body is sounding off. He said we were under his protection, but does that protection extend to him?
He leads me up a carpeted flight of stairs and down a short hall with four doors.
Stopping in front of the third door, he nods at me, expecting me to open it. Twisting the knob, I push the door open but don’t walk in until he does.
He carries Abigail into the room and heads for the big bed taking up the middle. I watch with my heart in my throat as he gently lowers her down.
Straightening from the bed, he stares down at her for a moment before turning to me.
I don’t know why but there’s this sudden tension between us. His face hardens and somehow, he looks even angrier than before.
A shiver runs down my spine as he stares me down.
He takes a step toward me and I bring up Abigail’s backpack, using it as a shield.
For the first time tonight I watch his face soften and his lips curve into a smile.
“Goodnight, Amy. I’ll see you in the morning,” he says, brushing past me and walking out the door.
I expel a breath I didn’t realize I was holding then quickly close the door behind him. Pushing in the lock, I finally feel like I can relax a little.
Getting my pulse back under control, I turn around and take in the room. A king-sized bed takes up most of the middle, flanked by two nightstands. The headboard of the bed is pushed up against the right wall, while a tall, cherry wardrobe is up against the left wall. Against the back wall is the only window.
I walk up to the window and yank open the curtains then try the window. It opens easily and I slide up the screen to poke my head out.
The street is quiet. The occasional cold gust of wind rattling the naked trees is the only sound.
Looking down, my heart sinks as I realize it’s too high of a drop for Abigail. I might be able to survive it but there’s absolutely nothing to break our fall. The side of the house is made up of smooth beige siding. There’s nothing for us to use for climbing down.
Abigail murmurs in her sleep and I pull my head back in, glancing towards her. She shivers and burrows deeper into the covers.
With a sigh of resignation, I pull the screen back down and close the window.
Even if I were able to fasten a rope out of the sheets, it just feels too risky. Abigail would probably get hurt. If I try to shimmy down while holding her, we’d probably both break our necks.
Walking over to her, I slide her shoes off and tuck her under the thick, fluffy comforter. It’s not until I slide into the bed beside her and lay my head down on the pillow that I feel a little pinch around my neck.
Glancing down, I look at the necklace Ivan gave me with a frown. With everything going on, I totally forgot about it.
Sitting up, I unclasp the necklace then let the strands of diamonds slide through my fingers to pool into my palm. There’s a sickening amount of diamonds. I knew when Ivan locked it around my neck that he expected repayment… in bed.
Cupping the diamonds in my hand, I watch them sparkle in the moonlight and feel a warm burst of hope.
Who needs a purse or a wallet when I have this? Even
if I only get a fraction of what they’re really worth, it will be more than enough for us to get away…
All I have to do is get us to a pawn shop.
6
Amy
Tossing and turning, I try my hardest to fall asleep. After about an hour, I give up, accepting that it’s just not going to happen.
I’ve been through too much tonight and my brain won’t stop replaying it over and over again. I keep reliving Ivan’s cold touch. Andrew’s smoldering eyes.
And Lucifer pointing a gun at my head.
Sliding my hand under my pillow, I check to make sure my necklace is still where I left it. Then I sit up. Carefully, I pull the blanket back without disturbing Abigail and slide out of bed.
My feet hit the floor and my toes sink into the plush carpet as I stand.
I take a moment to tuck the blanket around Abigail and resist the urge to smooth her hair back.
Quietly, I tiptoe my way across the room and open the door.
The hallway is pitch black. I pause for a moment, hoping my eyes will adjust to the dark, but every light in the house must be off.
I can’t see my own hand in front of my face, and I should probably just go back to bed, but it feels like some unseen force is tugging me, urging me to step into the dark.
Pressing my palm against the wall, I use touch to guide me down the hall. Carefully, I slide my foot forward, ensuring the floor is there before I move.
I focus so much attention on walking that I don’t realize I’m not alone.
I make it to the next door when I’m suddenly grabbed.
“Where are you going?” Andrew growls.
Grabbing me roughly, he spins me around and pins me against the wall.
So terrified I can’t scream, only gasp, my world spins and my eyes strain against the darkness, trying to make out his face.
It’s so dark I can’t see him, only feel him.
His warmth.
His angry energy.
His menace.
“Are you trying to run away?” he asks harshly, his hands tightening around my wrists and pinching my skin.