Tainted Crown

by Jenn Vakey

  The driver kept his hand firmly around her upper arm as the men led her toward the elevator. She kept her eyes turned toward the ground, paying attention to what she could while looking like she was seeing nothing. The elevator required a passcode before it would even move. That only made the panic within her grow, but not for the reason she expected. While a passcode reiterated the fact that she couldn’t escape, she was more concerned with what kind of men would have such a setup in the first place. These weren’t just thugs who shot a guy during a random mugging. There was something far more going on here.

  They rode the elevator to the fourth floor before the men pushed her out into a large office space. Instead of desks, though, the open floor had a few mismatched couches and tables. There were maybe a half dozen people moving around, but she was careful not to look directly at anyone. That didn’t stop them from taking notice of her arrival.

  “Boss,” the man holding her called out. She glanced up for a brief moment to see a man turn to face them. The moment they locked eyes, she looked back down to the floor. She struggled to steady her breathing as he moved toward them. “We grabbed her clean in an alley. No cameras; no one around.”

  Bailey could feel the tears start to build, but she was determined not to let them fall. No matter how frightened she was.

  “And she saw everything?” the boss asked.

  “She definitely saw enough,” the other man answered.

  The boss gripped her chin and lifted it up to look at her. His eyes moved quickly around her face before he looked her dead in the eye. His steely blue eyes were cold, sending a painful shiver throughout her body. His face, while admittedly handsome, was hard and emotionless.

  “Why’s she bleeding?” he asked, shifting his eyes down to her leg. Her face shifted with confusion as she followed his gaze. Sure enough, the entire side of her left leg was stained red with blood. With everything going on, she hadn’t even felt it.

  “Must have happened when I grabbed her,” the man to her right stated.

  Before she could stop herself, Bailey opened her mouth and said, “You mean when you tackled me?”

  The moment the bitter words left her lips she felt her cheeks flare red. There was no taking it back. The damage was already done. She looked back up and glared at the boss. To her surprise, she saw the slightest smirk pass over his face. As soon as it did, it quickly vanished. Maybe she was just imagining it.

  “Take her to the room,” he instructed his men, pointing to the wall behind them. “I’ll be in shortly to talk to her.”

  The hand around her arm tightened as the man to her left pulled her back and started walking her toward a door on the back wall.

  “Wouldn’t it have just been easier to put a bullet in her on the street?” another voice called out from across the room. This one was female, but her tone was just as harsh as the men dragging her around.

  “Shut the fuck up, Holly,” the boss snapped. “Or the next person to catch a bullet will be you.”

  Bailey’s legs were shaking under her. She focused on keeping her stride steady. The effort helped to keep her mind off of the inevitable way this evening was going to end. She needed to keep her thoughts clear. It was the only chance she had at making it out of here.

  The room she was taken to was bare, with only a single chair in the middle of it. There were a couple of folding ones leaning up against a wall, but she had a feeling just looking at it that it wasn’t a room for socializing. The one thing that provided her with the slightest bit of comfort was the light grey carpet covering the floor. With no signs of staining on it, she assumed they didn’t use it to kill anyone. Or at least she could hope.

  “Sit,” the man stated as he released the hold on her. She moved her fingers up and rubbed where his hand had been wrapped around her. It was sore, and she could only imagine she would have a bruise. If she lived long enough for it to develop.

  Bailey turned back and looked at the man for the first time. It was just him now; the other must have gone somewhere else. He was younger than she had expected, although still older than her twenty-three. Truth be told, he looked more like a frat boy than some street thug. His fair skin made his black hair and dark brown eyes pop. Lean, muscular build. His demeanor wasn’t as rough as the boss, but as he stood leaning against the wall with his arms folded up across his chest, she was still frightened throughout.

  “Sit,” he directed again.

  She complied. It wasn’t until she lowered into the seat that the pain from her leg started to show. She reached up and fumbled with the buttons on her coat as she worked to undo them. When she finally pulled it open, it took everything within her not to react. The white skirt of her uniform was dyed red and brown where it rested against her thigh. Her eyes moved to the man standing guard over her before she reluctantly pulled it up to look at the damage.

  Despite the lack of a cut on either her coat or skirt, there was a jagged piece of glass sticking out of her upper thigh. As she moved her fingers carefully over the skin surrounding it, she heard the door open again. Bailey peered up just long enough to see the boss enter before she turned her attention back to her leg. She needed to focus on something she had some control over, because she definitely didn’t have any over what was to come.

  He didn’t speak, which made her only more uncomfortable. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of holding her attention. After thoroughly examining the wound, she gripped the glass with her fingers and pulled it from her leg. Pain shot through her, but she didn’t let it show. She pressed her skirt back down over the wound with her left hand to stop the bleeding as her eyes finally moved back to the boss.

  “Do you have a trash can?” she asked, putting all effort into keeping her voice steady. “I wouldn’t want to stain the carpet by throwing it down on the floor.”

  He stared at her for several long moments before motioning back to the man guarding the door. The man grabbed the trash can from the corner and carried it over to her while the boss grabbed a chair from the wall. Bailey dropped the shard into the can, then turned to look at the boss.

  He unfolded the chair and placed it just feet in front of her, then lowered himself down into it. He had fair skin like the other man, but his well-kept short brown hair didn’t strike the same contrast. Like the man at the door, though, he didn’t fit the typical role of a thug, or at least not what she had pictured. With his chiseled features and muscles that couldn’t be hidden beneath his soft green button-up shirt, he looked like he belonged more on the cover of a magazine than in a place like this.

  “Do you know who I am?” he asked, his voice just as dry as before.

  The boss, she thought. The man in charge. Though she knew it to be true, she didn’t want to say it. The less she knew, the better. She shook her head.

  “I’m Drake Ryan, the leader of Bronze Phantoms,” he stated.

  His statement hit her like a ton of bricks. It wasn’t who he was that shook her the most, but instead the fact that he was telling her at all. She had heard of Bronze Phantoms around the neighborhood, but nothing more than whispers. She knew just enough to know that they were one of the gangs that ruled over New York City. Knowing his name only added nails to her coffin.

  She didn’t know how to respond. She wanted to beg for her life, but she knew it was a pointless endeavor. Nothing she could say to him was going to make him free her. Part of her hoped that the wound in her leg was severe enough to cause her to lose enough blood to simply fade away, but she knew better than that. Although deep, the glass had missed anything vital. Her mind raced as she tried to think of what to say before finally asking, “What did that man do?”

  For the first time, Drake’s expression shifted away from its hard display. Instead, he was somewhere between amusement and confusion. “What did that man do?” he repeated.

  She nodded. “What did he do?”

  Drake looked back over his shoulder to the other man before returning his gaze to Bailey. He smiled and
let out the briefest of laughs. “I must say, that’s not what I was expecting to be asked. Why do you assume he did anything?”

  Bailey shifted slightly in her seat, but she stopped when a surge of pain engulfed her leg. Her adrenaline was starting to wear thin. “Well, I’m guessing you don’t make a habit of just shooting random people in the park where anyone can see.”

  The bite in her tone surprised her, but she wasn’t about to apologize for it.

  Drake’s eyes moved between hers for several tense seconds. The way he looked at her made her feel like he was trying to read her, like a book he was trying to get an answer from. As hard as it was, she just sat back and held his gaze. Her heart was pounding so loudly in her chest that she was sure he could hear it, but she wasn’t going to break down. Not in front of him.

  He turned his head slightly to the side while still holding her eye. She braced herself, waiting for what he would say next. “Take her to my place.”

  “Your place?” the guy at the door asked. The confusion in his voice made her look away from Drake, but he didn’t move his eyes from her. As she studied the quizzical look on the other man’s face, she could still feel Drake’s eyes burning into her. When she saw him nod from the corner of her eye, she moved her gaze back to meet his.

  “I’ll call shortly with instructions,” he stated. Then he calmly stood and turned, leaving her sitting in the room with even more questions and worries than before.

  Her guard wasted no time before walking toward her and pulling her up by her arm. She followed without a struggle as he led her back to the elevator. His place? Bailey didn’t know what to think, but she felt oddly comforted by the request. Surely he wouldn’t be taking her to his home to kill her. Her comfort was tainted by a stronger sense of worry as she thought more about it. Killing her wasn’t the only thing he could do to hurt her. She didn’t want to be a toy he played with before finally ending her.

  Neither spoke as they rode the elevator back down to the parking garage. Bailey was still shaking, although she tried to keep it from showing. Thankfully he wasn’t looking at her. After reaching the car, the man pushed her into the back seat and shut the door.

  Then he just stood outside of the car for a moment, staring down at his phone. Her eyes darted to the passenger door. The backdoors might be locked, but that one wasn’t. Could she make it out before he caught her? Then what? It didn’t matter how small her chances were. She had to try. Just when her muscles tensed to climb into the front, though, he pulled the door open and got in. She had missed her chance. And it hurt.

  “Buckle up,” he muttered when he started the car. She looked up at him for a moment before doing as she was asked. She considered placing her head back down like she had been made to do before, but he didn’t seem to care as he pulled the SUV back out onto the street. She glanced out the window and knew instantly where they were. Her favorite little coffee shop was just at the end of the next block. She smirked at the thought of it before her expression melted again. They no longer made any attempt at hiding things from her, which meant they saw no situation in which she could get away and tell someone.

  “What’s your name?” she asked. Her voice was shaky, but there was no hiding it anymore. Her fear was starting to grow beyond what she was able to control.

  The man looked to the rearview mirror and met her eye. “Ernie,” he answered. “Care to tell me yours?”

  She shifted her eyes to the road ahead but didn’t respond. With one hand on the wheel, Ernie reached over for something on the passenger seat. Bailey felt her body tighten as she feared for the worst. Moments later, he pulled his hand back up in front of him. In it was her wallet.

  “Let’s see here,” he said. He flipped it open and pulled out her license. “Bailey Mills of Texas. A little far from home, aren’t we, Bailey?”

  She glared at him defiantly for a moment before turning back toward the window. They rode the rest of the way in silence.

  Like with the last place they had taken her, Ernie pulled into a parking structure and drove down to the bottom floor. From there, they climbed into a private elevator that only stopped on three floors. The garage, the top floor, and the roof. Ernie pressed the button for the top floor. Just as with the elevator at their little hideout, a passcode was needed to put it into motion.

  As the doors were closing, the phone in Ernie’s pocket started to ring.

  “Yes, Boss,” he answered. She tried to listen, but the soft rumble from the elevator was just loud enough to muffle the sounds coming from the phone. Ernie turned and looked toward her, his brow furrowed as his eyes moved up and down her body. It wasn’t the typical look she got from men who eyed her. Instead, he just looked confused. “Yes, Boss,” he said again, then put the phone back into his pocket.

  When the doors opened up, they stepped out into a large penthouse apartment. It was fully furnished, but so clean that she questioned whether or not someone actually lived there. Before she could get much of a look, though, Ernie pushed her up a staircase. Her leg ached, but she pushed through the pain. Once they had reached the top, Ernie directed her toward a door to her right. He swung it open, then ushered her in.

  “The boss will continue your conversation tomorrow,” he said, switching the light on behind her. “You will stay here tonight. There’s a private bathroom to your right. Go take a shower and get yourself cleaned up. There should be a first aid kit in the bathroom closet. I’ll bring you in something to sleep in.”

  She looked toward the open bathroom door, but she didn’t move.

  “I’ll be right outside the bedroom door until Boss returns,” he went on. “It’s pointless to try to escape. The penthouse is on lockdown.”

  With that, he turned and left her alone in the room. She didn’t know what to do as she stood there in shock. Like the rest of the penthouse she had seen, the bedroom was fully furnished with what appeared to be brand new furniture. It was definitely not like her bedroom at home. The mismatched furniture she used had been passed down to her from her late mother. While it wasn’t as glamorous as the room she had been lent for the night, she would have given anything to be there now.

  Bailey heard a door shut from somewhere outside, causing her to hurry toward the bathroom. She pushed the door closed and locked it. The knots in her chest had loosened, but not enough to make her breathing feel any less forced. So many questions filled her head that it made it nearly impossible to hold back the tears. Not wanting Ernie to hear her, she reached into the large standing shower and turned the water on.

  She let her coat, which was still unbuttoned from before, fall to the ground at her feet. Her white waitress uniform was close behind. While she didn’t want to follow Ernie’s orders to take a shower, she was desperate to wash away the day. With a resigned sigh, she slipped out of her bra and panties, pulled the tie from her hair, and stepped under the steaming water.

  The moment the droplets touched her face, the floodgates opened and her tears began to fall. The water stung her open wound, but she didn’t attempt to shield it. The pain clouded her thoughts, which was exactly what she wanted in that moment. If she couldn’t think, she couldn’t imagine all of the things that Drake and his men would do to her.

  When the water finally started running clear again, she turned it off and reached out for a towel. She wrapped the soft black towel around her before stepping out into the cool bathroom. She felt numb, not from the pain, but instead from the flood of emotions that had swallowed her whole. Gripping the hand towel that had been resting on the sink, she wiped the steam off of the mirror and stared at herself. The fear she was feeling wasn’t on her face. Instead, there was only a profound sense of hopelessness.

  “You can’t give up,” she whispered to herself, but the feeling wasn’t behind it.

  After pulling her eyes away from her reflection, Bailey started pulling the drawers open. In the top one she found a hairbrush. She picked it up without hesitation. Not that it would likely do any good, but she
was determined to leave as much trace of herself as possible in the room. If anyone ever did actually come looking, she wanted to make sure they found something to point to her having been there.

  After brushing her wavy brown hair and putting it back in a braid, Bailey went looking for the first aid kit. She found it just where Ernie had said it would be. To her relief, the box included a suture kit. When she thought about it, it really wasn’t all that surprising. As the leader of Bronze Phantoms, she was sure there were never a shortage of injuries that needed stitching.

  Bailey cleaned the cut as best as she could before she gritted her teeth and sewed it closed. The pain was intense, but she absorbed it instead of giving in to it. When she was finished, she pulled gauze out and wrapped it.

  Ernie had said he would be waiting outside of the room, but that didn’t make her any more comfortable about walking out into the room in a towel. She considered putting her clothes back on, but they were soaked with blood. Instead, she opted for the plush robe that was hanging on the bathroom door. After slipping her undergarments back on, then the robe, Bailey placed her shaking hand on the doorknob and pulled it open.