Ruthless

by Myers, Kelly

  “This is kidnapping,” I warn, despite the loud, distracting hammering of my heart in my chest. “Your employer is involving you in illegal acts for which you’ll be persecuted.”

  “We’ll see. Now, save your breath. You’ll need it later.”

  “You know my name. What should I call you?”

  “I’m One. Driver’s Two. Why would you call us?”

  “Can I get a drink of water, One?”

  “When we get there.”

  “Where?”

  “Where you’ll be spending the night.”

  “How are you going to explain my disappearance when people at my office notice that I’m a no-show?”

  “I didn’t earn the name One for being a clueless imbecile, Ms. Cormack. Everything’s been taken into account. You just sit back and relax now.”

  It’s not that cold, so I know that it’s obvious that my shuddering and shaking is out of pure, primal fear. I close my eyes and attempt to will my muscles into submission, yet to no avail. Drawing a deep breath, I try to remember the sequence to some breathing technique that an old colleague once taught me to control anxiety.

  Deep breath, in…

  Slowly…let it out.

  “How’s she doin’ back there?” The driver’s voice seeps through the separator.

  “She’s breathin’ funny. Are you okay there, Cormack?”

  Deep breath, in…

  Slowly…let it out.

  “If you don’t answer me, I’ll assume the worst and jab an unnecessary needle in your thigh. It’ll knock you right out in seconds. Do you have any medical conditions that are flaring up now?”

  “No,” I whisper.

  “Then what the fuck was that?”

  “Breathing.”

  “Louder than most.”

  “Well, you must admit that this doesn’t happen to most.”

  “Panic attack? Hey, Two,” he hollers. “remember when Mary Anne used to get those?”

  “Yeah, we treated that with medical marijuana,” I hear the driver chuckle. “Gotta tell yah, works like magic. Want a drag, honey?” he laughs again, this time louder.

  The car doesn’t seem to halt or slow down at any stoplights or intersections, which makes me wonder if they have access to street light control systems.

  “How far away is the place where I’ll be spending the night?” I try to calm myself down by talking to them, humanizing myself in their eyes.

  “Just a half-hour,” One answers. “Motion sickness? The injection can help,” his tone resembling one of a salesman’s aiming to close a deal.

  “I’m fine,” I grit my teeth, adamant about staying awake.

  Losing consciousness in these situations is the worst thing a victim can do. It leaves them room to do whatever they want to me without consent or resistance.

  “Suit yourself.”

  “Where are my things?”

  “Safe with me.”

  “Stop using that word,” I turn my lips upside down. “It really doesn’t become you.”

  “Your laptop and phone will be in safe hands during your stay with us. You can get the rest of your things back after the security scan at the premises.”

  “I don’t carry a gun.”

  “Gee, you think I’d run this operation without knowing that little detail?”

  “Then what are you hoping to find?”

  “An emergency razor. A metal nail file. A bobby pin. Anything you can use to hurt yourself.”

  “You’re concerned about my wellbeing? Or is it because any of those things can be used as weapons against you and your men?”

  He chortles and coughs. “As much as I’d like to see you try…it ain’t my call. My employers want you safe and sound.”

  “I don’t have any secrets they can extract if that’s what they’re after,” I ridicule.

  “Right now, I’m just a delivery man…and you talk too much.”

  “Excuse me for trying to understand what the fuck’s happening since I’m the subject of interest in your little scenario. A little thing called self-preservation?”

  “I already told you what’s happening,” his tone grows impatient. “You’re being summoned for a meeting, that’s all. Nobody’s threatening your life.”

  “Right, kidnapping can reap some surprising health benefits.”

  “Don’t pretend to care about that when you’re fueled with caffeine and nothing else. If you don’t give a shit, why should I?”

  “You’ve been watching me.”

  “No shit.”

  “I wonder if you also look like the low-life creatures a film villain hires to do his dirty work for him, too. Are you bald with missing teeth that were replaced with chunks of gold?”

  “I expected a better imagination, but I guess your reputation is misleading.”

  “What can I say? You and your boss have been recreating every cliché in the book without a single diversion.”

  “Oh yeah?” I hear a brief ruckus and sense his presence an inch away from my face. His hot breath hits the fabric against my nose, stifling. “My favorite part is when they get sick of your stubbornness and assign me a private session with you, doll.”

  I can’t deny that the obscene pleasure with which he uttered those words terrifies me to my core.

  “I may sound like a gentle, civilized man right now. But you don’t wanna get on my bad side, doll.”

  His tone, while theatrically intimidating, carries a considerable degree of honesty. Perhaps he’s good at acting. God, please let him be good at acting. I mentally sift through the hundreds of pieces of trivia and information I’ve read about Gabriel Palanick and his empire, trying to squeeze a single incident where an enemy of his went missing or died unexpectedly.

  I’m drawing a blank.

  The only image burned inside my eyelids is one of Gabriel in a candid picture, laughing under his luxury shades. The photograph was taken during one of his golf games while on vacation. The glare of his wide smile blinds me now that it’s the only thing standing out, rendering the rest of the image a dissolving haze of colors and no shapes.

  Paying close attention to the sounds around me, I listen carefully as the van finally slows down. A single beep announces our approach to a gate or an entryway. Gravity tilts me to one side as the car unmistakably moves down a slope—possibly an underground garage ramp. A slight change in the movement dynamics lets me know that the car is now going in reverse. I hear two bangs on the back, or could it be the side? I can’t be certain.

  The door then glides open. I can hear it, but no gust of wind or breeze follows, which solidifies my theory. We’re indoors.

  “C’mon, Ms. Cormack,” One’s fingers clasp my arm again, leading me out with his other palm resting over my head. “Mind the panel.”

  “What happened to doll?” I scoff, carefully stepping down.

  “That was only between us,” he hisses into my ear as we walk side by side.

  I hear the steps of two other people behind us. Must be Two and whoever banged on the outside when we arrived.

  “Where are my things?” I ask monotonously.

  “You’re awfully concerned with your belongings,” he tugs harder, prompting me to hasten my step. “They’re only material things, y’know.”

  “Oh yeah? And how are you getting paid? Cuddles?”

  I hear what resembles elevator doors parting, and he pushes me forward, only for my hands to be cuffed by another set of strong clutches. They feel plastic this time, applied and clocked with a clicking sound.

  “A better future, Ms. Cormack,” I hear him say before all sounds vanish, leaving nothing behind but the inaudible breathing of whoever is now with me and the subtle droning of the elevator that’s now going up.

  A muted ding declares our arrival at our next destination. I can’t guess which floor now, but since it only took us a few seconds to get there, we can’t be too high up.

  When I’m finally left alone in a room, I hear the door lock from the out
side and break down in tears.

  13

  Gabriel

  Ramone will deliver the phone and laptop to you in the morning after they’re unlocked by IT. You’ll be given the new passcodes, and your job is to keep everyone who contacts her at bay for me, just for a couple of days.

  Got a good excuse?

  Yes, Dina was recently at a kid’s birthday party. She caught rubella from one of the kids. I’ll provide you with a doctor’s slip that you can email to HR.

  What if someone offers to visit? Or wants to give her something through the door?

  She went into isolation at her parents’ place in New York.

  And you’re sure they won’t go looking there?

  She works for a newspaper, Amanda, not the mob. Besides, her Boston address is the only one recorded in her file there. We have this information. So there shouldn’t be any surprises.

  Having spent most of the night texting my assistant on our encrypted chat application, I am now confident that she understood all of my instructions and is working on implementing them.

  At half-past-six, she texts me again.

  I’ve sent in the request…but Gabriel, what will you be doing to her?

  I’m not doing anything to her. She’s my guest. I just needed her here so we can talk for as long as we need. She has to understand that I’m not a criminal, Amanda. To see my point.

  It’s ironic that in today’s world, we are forced to resort to extreme measures just to explain ourselves.

  Look at the bright side: I have heroes like you next to me. It’s your time to shine, Mandy.

  She loves when I call her that, and I use it sparingly to preserve its influence. It’s imperative to keep Amanda’s head straight regarding the entire matter. She can’t think that I’m going overboard, or she’ll begin to question the operation and the motivations behind it. Besides, I must admit that finding someone else who’s willing to go this far for a person they believe in is near impossible these days.

  Since I shouldn’t act suspicious or do anything out of the ordinary, I finish my morning workout at the gym, take a shower and head to work. I walk into the floor and see Gloria with her usual, unassuming smile and my cup of coffee at the ready.

  “Good morning, sir,” she hands it to me.

  “Good morning, beautiful. Thanks.”

  I glance in Amanda’s direction, and she’s sitting at her desk, tending to something on her laptop. “Good morning, Amanda. A word?” I walk past her and into my office, hearing the clicking of her heels as she follows me in.

  I place down my things on the desk and make my way to sit. “How is it?”

  “All good,” her eyes gleam. “I’ve booked the room next door for the coming week. That’s where I’m keeping the laptop and the phone, and only I have the key.”

  “Great,” I sit back. “Please check on them often and don’t leave a single text or email without response. If anyone waits too long, we risk them calling.”

  “Of course,” her eyes roam around for a moment as she wrings her hands. “How’s your guest?”

  “Resting. She arrived late last night.”

  “When do you plan on speaking with her?”

  “Soon,” I open my laptop. “You sound concerned.”

  “I’m not. Just…the sooner you talk, the sooner my part ends.”

  “I’m optimistic. If she’s as intelligent as the world paints her to be, she’ll swiftly come to the conclusion that cooperating is the right thing to do. Now, your priority is to have her email Peele and Duvall, instructing to put the column on hold.”

  “I’m drafting the email as we speak.”

  “You’re doing great, Amanda, and your assistance will be rewarded. I’ll personally see to it.”

  Her face instantly softens as her genuine smile surfaces. “Thank you, Gabriel. Will that be all?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  The workday is uneventful, with nothing out of the ordinary going on. I hold my meetings, spend a few hours working on some tweaks with the team in China. After investing a little more time working on my next speech I’ll be giving at the university in a few days, I shut down my laptop and head home.

  On the ride home, as I sit in the backseat listening to the muffled sounds of the bustling city, I launch the messaging application and text Ramone.

  How’s Sleeping Beauty?

  She’s refusing to eat and keeps asking for her things.

  Security clear on her purse?

  We only removed a sharp nail file, that’s all.

  Give it back to her and inform her that not eating will only extend our negotiation period. We can’t talk to her if she’s ill. And the presence of our in-house doctor means that she won’t need to get out for medical assistance.

  Consider it done.

  Anyway, I’m coming.

  See you soon.

  The car shortly pulls over at the estate, and I get out at the front door before the chauffeur drives on to park underground. I step into the house and see that the housekeeper has a meal ready for me.

  “Dinner, Mr. Palanick?” she asks.

  “Not yet, but do keep it warm for me. Thank you.”

  “Of course.”

  I head over to the home office, where I find Ramone waiting with a glass of whiskey.

  “Taking a break?” I walk in and place my bag on the leather chair, settling on the sofa across from him.

  “She’s a real bitch,” he scoffs, shaking his head.

  “Tell me.”

  “Well,” he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and holding the glass with both hands. “She can appear real calm, but her body betrays her. She’s…petite. And it shows when she’s afraid.”

  I smirk. “However?”

  “She’s got a big mouth and talks back a lot. A real smart ass with no real substance.”

  “We wouldn’t expect her to give you substance,” I explain. “She’s waiting for the big bad boss.”

  “You’re better with women,” he chuckles, raising his glass in the air before taking a sip.

  “I don’t think it’s that,” I place one leg over the other, extending my arm over the soft backrest. “She probably thinks we wanna hurt her.”

  “Although I explained—more than once—that we won’t.”

  “Does she have any health issues I should be aware of?”

  “None that I can spot. None that she’s mentioned. She does get panicky, though. Does that creepy little thing with the breathing.”

  “I see. Did you give her back her purse?”

  “Yeah. She didn’t seem interested once she found all her credit cards but no phone or laptop.”

  “So, no daily medications.”

  “Nope.”

  I quietly nod with my eyebrows in a knot.

  “Next move?”

  “Give food another shot, then prep her for me. I’ll have dinner, make a few calls, then come down.”

  “You got it,” he stands up, chugs down the rest of his drink in one go, slams down the glass on the end table and silently struts out of the room.

  Ramone used to be an army guy, but thanks to a massive arm injury that led to chronic pain only treatable with massive amounts of painkillers, he was rendered a liability, resulting in depression. When he started dating Gloria, she introduced us and asked me to give him a job as a favor. I hired him in my security department right away. At first, he reported to our head of security until he retired.

  Ramone now is my go-to man for all of the…tough assignments on-ground. As long as he and Gloria—now his fiancé—both work for Palanick Holding, everyone remains happy. I even gave them a small house in the suburbs as an early wedding gift. That’s how I keep my vital staff satisfied and faithful.

  After dinner, I go upstairs to my bedroom and light up a joint. As I smoke, I respond to some work emails and send additional instructions to the Beijing team. I also get some calls out of the way while I finish my relaxing treat. During the last one, ca
ll waiting announces an incoming call from Galina. I finish up and call her back.

  “Gabriel,” she sighs. “I thought you wrote me off completely.”

  “How could I?”

  “I tried to reach you a bunch of times, and you didn’t call me back.”

  “Got busy. Distracted. You know those days.”

  “The new show opens tonight.”

  “Best of luck.”

  “You’re not coming?”

  “I have an important business dinner.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “You have to believe me.”

  “I miss you, and last time doesn’t count.”

  “No, it doesn’t. How about this weekend?”

  “Friday night?”

  “I have a benefit. How about Saturday night?”

  “After the show, can you wait?”

  “For you? I’ll wait all night.”

  “Fabulous. Looking forward to it.”

  “I have to go. See you then.”

  Hanging up, I savor the last drag as I launch the viewing panel for the camera in Cormack’s room. I see her sitting in the corner, hugging her bent legs and resting her chin over her knee. She really is very slim. Ramone is sitting on a chair by the door, facing her from behind a mask. The food tray is next to her, seemingly untouched.

  I switch on the sound.

  “No,” she says without moving a muscle.

  “And if you die?” he tilts his head.

  “Then you’ll have one of two choices: bury my body or try explaining it to the cops.”

  “You don’t wanna know what I’m capable of. Your corpse is the least of my worries.”

  “Rich, coming from a man who keeps repeating that he wants to keep me safe.”

  “We’ve been over this,” he shakes his head. “You eat. You talk to our representative. You reach an agreement. You go home.”

  “Uhm—” she finally lifts up her head, looking around the empty room. “Riddle me this? Why are you so confident that if I walk out of here, I won’t report this to the authorities?”

  “Faith.”

  “In?”

  “The fact that you’ve never seen my face. You haven’t seen this place, just a plain room that will be demolished once you’re gone. You don’t know where you are.”