by BT Urruela
“Fuck. Well, I’ve never seen a hospital with such thick bars, so if I’m not in hell, then who the fuck are you and why do you have me in a cage? Did my parents do this? Are they paying you?” Annalise ran her fingers through the thick, tangled mane that cascaded down around her face. She did her best to take inventory of her surroundings in the dim light. What she could see of the walls were all concrete block. The smell of mildew in the stagnant air reminded her of her great aunt Pansy’s basement. On top of that was the strong odor or ammonia or bleach, something chemical.
“I am a debt collector, an enforcer, what have you, for an organization that works with your father. Annalise, your father, he, uh … he got mixed up in some pretty serious shit. He’s fucked up a deal we had with him. And now he owes us, and he’s unwilling to pay.” He looked at her intently, clearly not trying to scare her, but to convey the seriousness of the matter. “He owes us big. And we’re in a bit of a bind because of it.”
Annalise just laughed. Of all the fucking luck. “So, let me get this straight. You saved me. Brought me back from the brink of death, to what? Hold me as a prisoner in a cage so my parents will give you money? That about sum it up?” Annalise stared back at him as the realization hit her like a ton of bricks. She pinched her lips together and willed the tears not to flow, no matter how much they burned the back of her eyes.
The man swallowed, repositioning the mask again. “To be perfectly frank with you here, you aren’t worth much to us dead. And, not to get too personal, but why is a girl like you doing something stupid like that? I mean, your dad is shit, yeah. I haven’t read the best things about your mom, but, c’mon. You seem to have a lot going for you.” He chuckled abruptly before catching it, as if realizing how absurd it was to say such things to her between bars.
Annalise’s lip trembled and two wayward tears escaped despite her best efforts. “You have no fucking idea who I am. You’re just like everyone else. All you see is the perfect fucking porcelain doll. You have no idea what my life is like. Well, the joke’s on you. I’m not worth anything, alive or dead. You just wasted your fucking time.” She watched him move uneasily on the wooden stool. His ripped jeans were faded and grease-stained in places. He tapped a heavy black leather boot as he moved back and forth.
“Compared to my life, Annalise, yours is squeaky fucking clean. And you certainly are worth quite a bit to us alive. A million, to be exact. I’ve gotta be serious here, there are some very bad people upstairs who want to do some very bad things to you if that debt goes unpaid. I truly don’t want to see that happen. I mean that. I was against this from the get-go. Unfortunately, I don’t run this show. I’m just a performer in it. And I have a job to do.” He took in a deep breath through his nose, looking at her intently. “Will your father pay? Honestly? It does us no good if you lie to me, because we’re going to find out soon enough. Your parents got the ransom note this morning.”
Annalise trembled all over as the reality of his words set in, like an earthquake shattering her from the inside. Fear of death was not at the epicenter for the men upstairs. If they were like her father, she couldn’t bear it. Even worse, what if her parents paid the ransom and he gave her back to them. Fuck, Annalise knew she would rather take her chances with her captors.
“He could probably get his hands on that kind of money if he wants to. I don’t know about his finances. All he cares about is his reputation. Can I ask you a favor? Am I allowed to do that? Ask for something?” She tried desperately to read his expression, but as he came fully into view, she could see the black mask that obscured his features.
“That depends on what it is.” He leaned forward. His eyes were serious, but she noticed then how beautiful they were, a shimmering amber that caught the dull light from the hanging bulb above her cage.
Annalise shook all over as she mustered up every bit of courage in her tiny body. “When you get what you want. Once you have your money”—she took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes, still beautiful, still strong. Her own vision was blurry, glazed over—“promise me that you will finish what I started. Please.” Tears cascaded down her cheeks then, and Annalise turned away quickly so he wouldn’t see.
He hesitated, studied her. His eyes looked remorseful then, the rigidity gone. He leaned in closer and said, “Not a chance, lady … you’re gonna have to finish the job yourself. I don’t kill the innocent. And I definitely don’t kill women.”
Sobs escaped and Annalise fought them back. She had never let her emotions show before and she was not about to start now. Not in front of her captor, the man who put her in that fucking cage. “Innocent, you say … and yet here I sit. And you will send me back into the hands of that fucking monster. For what, money? Fucking money.” Annalise sat up, squaring her shoulders. “That’s all anyone ever cares about. He’s so powerful, so we’ll just overlook this. Or, oh he’s so rich, so we’ll let that slide. You’re just like all the rest.”
“Listen, you are tied into this because he’s untouchable. When he pays, and you go back to your normal life, you can rid yourself of him. Too easy. You say I’d be sending you back to a monster. Well, how old are you again?” He smirked, shook his head, and then tutted. “Old enough to go your own way. Old enough to make your own decisions. Fact is, Daddy still holds the leash because you’ve kept the collar on.”
Hot blood boiled under her skin. He had no idea how much she fucking hated that word, and the belittling way he smirked at her. Annalise shook her head and blew out a slow breath, thankful at least to have a familiar rage to restore her calm. “Sure, life is simple for Mary fucking Poppins, right? I could walk away, just like you could from this. You said you were against this, but you don’t make the rules. I guess we have matching collars. So, who up there is your daddy?” Annalise cocked her head to the side. Did he just flinch?
He laughed loudly, and then he nodded his head with approval as he worked a cigarette pack out of his pocket. “That’s actually pretty good. I gotta give it to you. No, I’m not the daddy here. I don’t like the responsibility,” he said through a smile. “My job—my sole job—is to ensure this club gets the money we’re owed. That’s it. Usually, I do that in a much more physical manner, but I feel for you. I feel for your situation. Even more so since we scraped you up off your dressing room floor and brought you back to life. So, I want to do this painlessly. I want to get you out of here without a scratch, and with all debts paid.” He lit a Marlboro and stowed the pack, one-eyeing her through the smoke. “The sooner we can make that happen, the sooner I can get you out of here and back in front of those pills.”
In front of those pills. That sounded like her mother. “I’m not a pill-head, you know. I’ve never done drugs until tonight. I didn’t drink either. Not that you care. It took me months to save those up. Now it sounds so cheap and stupid.” She leaned back into the cot, her back against the bars, her momentary strength wavering. Death. It was all she wanted. An escape from her shitty life and now there she sat, locked in a fucking cage.
“Sorry, I meant back in front of the pills so you can finish what you started. I never assumed you were a pill-head. Don’t figure many ballerinas are. I wouldn’t be one to judge if you were anyway.” He let out a quick scoff, took a drag of his cigarette, and his eyes showed sadness then, regret. “I have my own vices. We all do. And if yours is the desire to die, if you really got it that bad, well, then get Dad to pay and do what needs to be done.”
“Wait, you want me to talk to them? Beg them to give you money?” Annalise laughed again and it surprised him, clearly catching him off guard. “Or what? You’ll kill me? Now who’s delusional?” She pulled her knees up in front of her and wrapped her arms around them.
“I wish that’s all that would happen to you.” He sighed and took another slow drag. “I really do. I’m not gonna hurt you, Annalise, but I must reiterate, there are very excited men upstairs, ready to hack your digits off one by one. They don’t just want to kill you. They want to hurt you bad
first. They want to make your dad pay. I’m not trying to scare you. Only trying to give it to you straight.” The man hesitated, looking as if he were contemplating something, and then he added, “So, yeah … unless you’re a masochist too, it’s in your best interest to take the phone when he calls and tell him to pay. You tell him that is the one, and only, option.”
Annalise toyed with the idea of just knocking herself out against the bars. For a brief moment, lying on that disgusting cot, dying of a head injury, sounded better than giving yet another money-fucking-hungry man what he wanted. “Always a pawn. Do this, Annalise. Do that, Annalise, for the good of the people. Do it for your mother. Swallow all your pride and bury it in the blood-stained sheets you have to try and sleep on. I’ve been caged like an animal all my life. These bars are nothing new, just visible now.” She shook her head, what did she have to lose? No one cared anyway.
“Again, this was not my idea,” he said calmly. “I never wanted to involve you. But your mother couldn’t be trusted in here. One of the guys would’ve likely killed her by the second day of detox. And your dad, well, you know how secure that sonofabitch is. You were it. Our only option. So, yeah … for now, you’re a prisoner. You’re our prisoner. And if you want to get out of here unscathed, I need you to just do what you’re told and not act out, all right? I mean it.”
“Are you the one that tortures people?” Annalise tilted her head to the side, studying him for the first time as her vision finally came into full focus. The ski mask obscured his features but something about his eyes caught her again. They were familiar. She couldn’t place it, but they comforted her in a way she couldn’t readily explain. They seemed to be etched with battles beyond his years, and yet, carried hints of empathy, as well as compassion. They narrowed, almost in pain, as he listened to her speak, like he felt her agony as his own.
“Usually,” he muttered, “but in this case, no. That would be one of the other guys. There’s a lot of resentment around here because of your father. He put quite the kink in some big plans. And some of these guys don’t abide by certain codes that men should.” He took in a breath and then let it out slow, dropping the cigarette butt to the ground and stamping it out with his boot. “One of them is not harming women. I don’t … and they very much do.”
“I guess chivalry is more alive than me at the moment. Lucky me.” She rolled her eyes. “So, what makes you think my dad is going to call you and not the FBI?” Annalise questioned, still trying to place what it was about him that struck her so, that stirred something up inside her.
He chuckled amusingly. “You think this is our first rodeo? We conduct massive weapons deals with some of the biggest cartels south of Texas. We’ve been doing so for quite some time. Your father isn’t completely untouchable, and he knows it. He knows precisely what we’re capable of … and what we can get away with if we want to.”
It was then they heard footfalls coming from the basement stairwell, and he shot a look toward it. Another man, thicker and taller than the other, was skipping off the bottom step and walking toward them with a cell phone in both his hands, a ski mask covering his big dome.
“He call?” The one closest to her asked.
The big man nodded. “Sure did. Texted him the second burner number after, as requested. He should be callin’ here any”—he eyed the phone in his tatted right hand as it lit up—“minute,” he finished, handing the phone over with a grin.
The man with the mesmerizing brown eyes took it and answered, putting it on speakerphone, and his other hand produced a voice box from his pocket. He set it to his lips, his eyes focused on Annalise, and said, “Senator, so nice of you to call,” in a robotic tone.
“Where the hell is my daughter, you fucking grease monkey. Return her immediately or I’m getting the authorities involved!” Hale yelled.
“Listen here, you slimy fuck. You aren’t in any position to be making demands. You will shut your mouth, and listen very closely to what I have to tell you, do you understand? Or do I need to send all your dirty little secrets over the years to those same authorities you speak of? Is that your endgame, Senator? Because if you think we haven’t recorded every conversation, every phone call, every deal, every fucking thought you’ve had since you shook our hand and made one hell of a deal, well, then you’re a whole lot dumber than I initially thought. Are we on the same page here, Senator Hale?”
Hale groaned through the phone like a harpooned whale, hatred spewing at not having the upper hand in the situation, a situation he rarely faced. “How do I even know you have her?”
“Well, I told you to fucking listen to what I had to say, now didn’t I? You’re going to have thirty seconds on the phone with your daughter, Ronald. You’ll see for yourself we do, in fact, have her, and then, you will listen to my very specific set of demands, and you will abide by them, do you understand?”
“Let me talk to my daughter!” Her father yelled into the phone, not listening to anything the stranger had to say. Her mother began wailing in the background.
Annalise sat breathlessly, waiting for him to hand her the phone. The second man sneered at her and she detected no kindness in his eyes. She knew she was fucked either way. Her heart pounded relentlessly, drowning out any thought she could muster.
“Isn’t that what I just fucking said, Hale? Jesus Christ, I hope you listen better the next time this phone is in my hands. Now, Ronald, say hello to your daughter.” He slipped the phone between the bars.
Annalise reached out with a trembling hand and took the plastic lifeline to the outside world. “H-Hello,” Annalise began. She was shaking all over, the severity of her situation sinking in. “Dad, is that you?”
“Oh God! Annalise. Hang tight, baby, Daddy is gonna get you out of there. You hear me. Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?” Hale blathered nervously. “Where are you?”
“I’m not hurt, but they have me in a cage. They said if you don’t pay, they are going to kill me.”
Mrs. Hale’s wailing grew to a fervor, drowning out her husband as he tried to answer. “Anna, baby. Oh, my sweet Lord! Anna! Anna!” Victoria Hale screeched almost incoherently, and Annalise hurt for her.
“I’m okay, Mother, calm down,” Annalise replied, knowing the woman must be going out of her mind.
“All right,” The ski-masked man said, reaching a hand toward the cage. “Time’s up.”
A scuffle could be heard as Hale retrieved the phone from his hysterical wife. Annalise handed the cell phone back over to the man in the mask and sat back down on the cot. Her father’s voice blared from the speaker phone. “Tell me what you want, but I swear on all that is holy, if you harm one hair on her head, I will move heaven and earth to make you pay.”
“Shut your fucking mouth, Ronald. Your threats are pointless. We’re in control. Understand that? You are not new to our organization. In fact, you knew my pops quite well before he died, didn’t you? You rode our backs to D.C. Now, it’s time to pay up. You will receive a text which contains a location. You are to appear on your own, at a time we specify. No sooner. No later. If you show up early, if you show up late, or if you bring company … she’s dead. No questions asked.”
“When? Why not just tell me now?” Hale demanded, desperation dripping from his tone.
The man chuckled. “We aren’t new to this. We aren’t going to give you all our little secrets right away, nor would we give you the time or means to prepare. This is a trust game, Senator Hale. We need to trust you completely. And you need to trust us. If we don’t have trust, well then, we aren’t gonna very happy,” he said in a slightly playful tone. “Now, you don’t want that, do you?”
“N-No. I’ll do whatever you say. Just don’t hurt her,” Hale muttered, defeated.
“Good boy. You be on the lookout for that text? And don’t you dare tell a soul. Your daughter’s life is at stake. Goodbye, Senator.” He hung up the phone with a wide smile on his face. “God, I love listening to that fucker squirm,” he said, handing
the phone back over to the bigger man.
“So, what’s next, bro?” The big man asked, taking the phone.
“Get rid of both of those and get the guys together. I’ll come up and let you know when to shoot him the message.”
“Roger that.” The muscular man with the tan skin and tattooed hands pocketed the phone and turned on his heel, making his way back through the shadows toward the stairwell.
She felt the debt collector’s eyes studying her as she cradled her knees and rocked. When she glanced over at him, she saw something like pity in his eyes, if her hazy vision wasn’t betraying her. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but when she dropped her eyes again, he turned and left her alone in the cold basement.
Twelve
Dimitri could feel the effects of his last rail wearing off, and the whiskey had settled uneasily in his gut. His head throbbed and he could hardly believe it was already morning. He had just used up the last of his cocaine only a few hours before, and he sneered at the empty baggie on his night stand. He felt compelled to call his dealer, but fought the urge. Isaac wouldn’t be awake anyway. He never was that early.
Dimitri thought about just how hard seeing the empty bag had become by that point, and felt a massive guilt as he licked the bag of its residue, as he had so many times before. Just a little something to get going, to become the man he needed to be, the man he started hating more and more with each passing day. He thought about the weight of the job and the blood on his hands. The burden was too heavy. He had started back on the coke to keep himself going through the violence and the worry, the depression, and regret; for the sake of the club and his loyalty to Preach, but he found the drug changing his thought processes, intensifying his anxiety and paranoia, turning him into a monster. He hardly recognized himself anymore.
With an innocent girl locked up in a cage, and out of his protective sight as they met with the senator, his thoughts were like a perfect storm. He could barely keep his mind off of her and on the task at hand, the dangerous possibilities, as his Harley idled between his legs on a small road in Pacific, Missouri. Jacoby, Dalton, and Pyro had already scouted the meet point, a boarded up and abandoned gas station on the outskirts of the small town, as HB and Samson were providing overwatch from sniper positions a few hundred feet away.