by Sam Mariano
That’s a foreign thought to pass through my mind, but there it is.
I want to go home. Not to the cabin or my shitty apartment, but to wherever she is.
Annabelle’s my home now. I couldn’t explain to her how ridiculous her concerns about me not wanting to live with her were, since I don’t have any logical explanation to offer, but… somehow it happened.
I can feel myself changing in response to her coming into my life, and I don’t know what to do about it. Maybe nothing. Maybe let it happen.
That’s pretty scary in and of itself.
Sighing, I shove the phone in my pocket and drop the binoculars in the open window of my car door. They fall on the seat and I creep up toward the hood, waiting on the help that should be coming.
Electricity suddenly fires into my lower back and every tendon in my body strains as my muscles contract painfully. White hot pain disables my body and overtakes my mind. I grunt, toppling to the hood of my car, and while pain still radiates through my body, several sets of hands grab me, holding me down and securing my hands behind my back with a zip tie.
I turn my head to establish who’s attacking me and see the smug face of Pietro Basso, which I expected, and the dark, slightly smiling face of Raj Ahuja, which I did not.
Another jolt of electricity shoots into my back and my head swims, my muscles screaming in pain. I try to move, though I’m not sure what I could do at the moment, but I can’t anyway. My muscles are useless as I slump helplessly against the hood of my beat-up car.
Threats and curses fly through my head before someone strikes me in the back of the head, and everything goes black.
I don’t know how long I was out, but when my eyes open it’s clear I’ve been stowed somewhere.
I’m confused. I don’t know why I’m alive. I’m tied to a chair with my hands not only zip tied, but also secured with rope, and I’m in a windowless, cement-block room. The only light is an exposed bulb over by the door with a pull-string to turn it off and on.
Raj sits in a rusted folding chair by the door. Just the sight of him sets my blood to boiling.
I jerk my hands intuitively, and even though I’m clearly not getting loose, he jumps a little.
Trying to cover it up, he shifts in his seat, scoots around a little. He settles with his hands together, nervously running his thumb across his knuckles.
“Liam,” he acknowledges.
“What the fuck?” I growl.
He sits forward, his eyes meeting mine across the small room. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions. Forget them. Listen to me, because I’m sure you want to kill me right now. I’m sure you’re foaming at the mouth, waiting for your chance to tell Pietro what you know about me. If you do, I’ll kill Annabelle.”
“Bullshit.” If he knew where Annabelle was, and he’s working with Pietro for whatever reason, there’s no reason I’d be alive.
He’s not as good at this as he must think he is, because I see the fear jump in his eyes.
“Everything is still going to go according to plan, just without you. I couldn’t trust you. You made it impossible to trust you. You lied to my face and you took that goddamn girl—”
“Spare me the monologue,” I say with a sneer. “I don’t give a fuck.”
He sits back, looking a little put out. I imagine him rehearsing the satisfying speech he’s going to deliver in front of his mirror, his soft, bare chest all puffed up.
Ha, fuck this guy.
“Was she worth it?” he asks solemnly.
“Really?” I respond, not trying to hide my scorn.
He’s going with “was she worth it?” I’m not his estranged husband, for fuck’s sake.
Pushing to his feet, obviously annoyed with me, Raj says one last time, “Tell Pietro you were working for me and Annabelle dies. Especially if Pietro kills me before I can do it.” Smiling a sick little smile, he adds, “Maybe he’ll let her husband have her back for a few days first.”
My lips curl up in disgust and I make a show of lurching forward, rattling the chair I’m tied to.
Finally opening the door, Raj flees to tell Pietro I’m awake.
The door rattles before it’s jerked open.
Pietro Basso steps through, his smarmy smile and immaculate gray suit out of place in the bleak, dingy room. It’s disappointing that these are the circumstances. I thought if I ever saw Pietro Basso in person, it would be to shoot him as he tried to flee his burning house.
Instead, he gets to kill me.
Clasping his hands together theatrically, Pietro says, “At long last, we meet.”
I keep my eyes on him, steady, unimpressed, but not angry. He’d love me angry.
“Are you excited?” he continues, still grinning. “I’m excited.”
I’m not giving him anything. In fact, I may not utter a single word to him. We’ll see how it plays out.
“Man of few words, huh? That’s okay. We can get right down to business.”
Pietro glances down at the seat, briefly unimpressed with the state of it, but he sits anyway. Slapping his hands on top of his thighs, he tones his grin down to a smile. “So. What’ve you got for me?”
I don’t bother answering, not like he expects me to. Maybe with a fuck you, but not a real answer.
“Let’s start with the obvious. Where’d you take Annabelle? Liam, was it?” he asks, glancing back through the door. Raj lingers outside, glancing my way before looking back to Pietro with a nod.
“Liam,” Pietro says with a nod-and-smile. “You wouldn’t believe how long I’ve waited to know your name. Silly, isn’t it? Anyway. Here you are now, so let’s make this as quick and painless as we can, hm?”
I hadn’t planned on dying when I took this job, but sitting here looking at this polished sleazebag, I’m still not sorry I did. Annabelle would’ve wasted away her whole life, trapped under the thumb of this asshole and other assholes like him. Not like I was doing a whole hell of a lot with my life anyway. Still rather live than die, but… I’m glad I saved her, even if this is where it got me.
I sure wish I would’ve listened to her and stayed home though. Taken off to the beach house with her. Apparently fucking Raj had someone else who could finish the job without me, so he would’ve even cleaned up my mess.
I’d gotten too comfortable. You do this kind of thing long enough, you take for granted that you’ve gotten away with it. Seems like you’ll always get away with it, even if you know there’s a chance you won’t.
“No?” Pietro says, like there was any other answer. He doesn’t seem concerned though, and as I watch him extract my cell phone from his pocket, I realize why.
Something cold slithers down my throat, sinking down my torso. My face remains stoic, but I know before he says anything that I fucked up.
I didn’t erase the number Annabelle called me from earlier.
I want to punch myself in the fucking face. What kind of rookie-ass mistake is it not to clear the call log? Fucking seriously.
My mind races but comes up empty of ideas. I could change the subject, tell him where the stuff Raj had us steal is hidden.
Of course Raj may have moved it, since apparently Raj is on both sides. And obviously he set me up, so he would know there was a chance I’d do that.
I could send him on a wild goose chase. That’d serve Pietro right.
I’m not going to have time to do any of that though, because Pietro is making a call now. I want to stop him, but I’m hoping for a miracle—that she’s not by the phone, that she’s sleeping the day away like she does sometimes, that she doesn’t call back and he’ll never know for sure it was her.
But then he grins like a fucking wolf and drawls, “Annabelle. We’ve missed you.”
Annabelle
The playful smile that popped up when I saw Liam’s number has melted away, leaving dull horror in its place. I can’t breathe.
I pull back the phone with shaky hands to reread the display.
Liam’s number.
&nbs
p; Pietro’s fucking voice.
They’ve caught Liam.
Maybe they didn’t. Maybe there’s another explanation. There has to be another explanation.
I swallow hard, putting the phone to my ear. I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. I don’t want to speak. I don’t want him to hear my voice, even though I know he already did when I answered.
Happy. Excited. Expecting Liam. In the middle of imagining the new life we were about to build together, far away from all this bullshit.
No more beach house.
No more future.
No more Liam.
Tears burn behind my eyes as that dream slips away. I should’ve known better. Helplessness takes root again, blackening everything it touches inside of me.
I can’t do this again.
Pietro’s voice through the phone makes my skin crawl. “Annabelle, I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news.”
Oh, God. He’s going to tell me Liam’s dead.
My legs are sacks of jelly and can’t keep me up anymore. I drop hard onto the red plaid couch where I watched Liam’s beautiful, strong body hunched to build a fire to keep me warm.
“Your boyfriend tried to steal from me again. I’m afraid it didn’t go well for him.” There’s some static and the line cuts out for a second. “You wanna say hi?”
My heart practically explodes and relief pours through my body. “He’s alive?”
“For now,” Pietro replies.
“Let me talk to him,” I demand.
He puts me on speaker. “Go on, say hi.”
Nothing.
I wait. Strain to listen. I want to crawl through the phone, but there’s nothing, no sign of Liam.
The silence drags on forever.
A little less cheerful, Pietro says, “He’s not terribly chatty, is he?”
“Liam?” I question. It’s not lost on me that Pietro could be lying. Maybe Liam isn’t there—but is it because he didn’t actually catch him, just got his phone somehow? Or is Liam dead?
If he’s there, he doesn’t answer me.
Pietro sighs. A muffled, “Go get Antonio.”
I don’t know Antonio’s purpose but it can’t be good, and my stomach is furious at this whole situation. I want to hang up, but I can’t until I know if he really has Liam.
I have no idea what to do if he doesn’t. Drive myself crazy waiting to see if Liam shows up at this godforsaken cabin? Wait for Pietro’s goons to find me? I know they have no way of tracking me from this phone call—that’s the whole reason Liam gave it to me, but….
What do I do if Liam’s really gone?
And what the hell do I do if he isn’t?
“Remember I said we’d do this as painlessly as possible?” Pietro says, but not to me. “Last chance. Talk to Annabelle.”
Nothing.
I frown, not knowing what to expect. What to trust. Is Pietro putting on a show for me, or is he actually talking to Liam? If Liam’s there, why won’t he say so?
Unless he doesn’t want me to know.
Of course he doesn’t want me to know.
“Liam?” I ask, tentatively. “Please don’t try to be a hero right now. I want to know if you’re there.”
Still nothing.
There’s commotion on the other end. Then a noise I can’t quite identify, something hitting something, maybe?
Pietro speaks up. “Unfortunately I can’t promise your lover’s state will be as previously stated for much longer. He doesn’t want to talk, so we’re giving him a little… incentive.”
I think I make out a weak grunt, but with the sound of something striking… something?
My grip tightens on the phone. “Are you hitting him?”
“With a pipe,” Pietro responds cheerfully.
“Stop! Jesus Christ, stop!” I jump off the couch, full of useless adrenaline. I don’t want to cede to any demands when I’m not even sure they have him, but I also don’t want them to beat him to death if they do.
“He’s not talking yet.”
“That’s—I don’t care. I believe you! Stop hurting him.” The striking sound ceases and I can picture Pietro, holding a well-manicured hand up, all smug and fucking disgusting.
“What do you want?” I ask lowly.
“It’s not so much what I want as what your mother wants,” Pietro replies. “She wants you back home. She wants you at the party with all the relatives who expect to see you there, being the dutiful fucking daughter that you are not. I’m done with these games, Annabelle. I’m done letting you hurt your mother. It’s time to come home, it’s time to make nice, it’s time to put all this bullshit behind you.”
Every shred of me rejects what he’s saying, but I have to help Liam. I never thought I’d get out—now I have and Pietro is trying to drag me back.
“What do I get out of this deal?” I’m surprised by the evenness, the calm sound of my voice. You’d never know I want to vomit and cry and hit something all at once.
“You won’t have to go back to Paul,” he states. “He’s already moved on. We can begin divorce proceedings as soon as the last of the guests leave and this goddamned party is behind us.”
“And Liam?”
“Is dangerous,” he states.
He won’t let him go. Even if I surrender myself and go back, he’s never going to let Liam out alive. He can’t. I know that.
I close my eyes, desperately shuffling through my brain for any idea.
“If you let us go, if you let us leave, we’ll both disappear and you’ll never see us again. We’ll never bother you again.”
“I’m sure,” he says, almost amused.
“I’m serious. Liam was doing this for me. He doesn’t give a damn about you. There’s no undying vengeance or whatever, he doesn’t… it doesn’t matter. If you’ll just let us be together…”
He pauses. Maybe he’s considering it.
Finally, slowly, he says, “All right. After the party. You’ll show up for your mother, put in one last performance, and afterward I’ll let you both go. If I ever see either one of you again, you’ll die on sight.”
“You won’t,” I rush out. “You won’t. You’ll never see us again.”
“Good.” He doesn’t even miss a beat. “Where are you? I’ll send a car for you.”
I look out the small bedroom window at the trees outside. “Um, I’m not really sure. There’s not an address or anything. Hold on, I think… I think there’s one of those longitude and latitude readers in here somewhere. If I can find it, would you be able to figure out where I am?”
“Yes,” he answers, smoothly.
“Annabelle, don’t you fucking dare.”
My heart jumps at the sound of Liam’s voice. Then sinks, because he really is there and I don’t know if that’s better or worse than the alternative.
“Liam,” I cry. “Are you okay? Where are you?”
“He’s lying to you, Annabelle. Don’t you dare tell them where you are.”
“Shut him up,” Pietro says.
“No! Don’t,” I object.
“I’m already dead,” Liam states. “Don’t you dare come back. Get the hell out of here. Do what I told—”
He gets cut off, I hear signs of a scuffle and I feel so. Fucking. Helpless. “Don’t you hurt him!” I scream.
The noise on the other end tapers off as my heart hammers around in my chest.
“I have a stipulation,” I add, inspired. “I want him to come to the party with me.”
Pietro laughs.
“I’m serious. You can drug him if you have to, those drugs like you gave me. To make him… harmless, but I want him there. It will make more sense when we disappear after anyway. If he’s my date. It’ll make sense to Mom. What are you going to tell her when we disappear?”
He doesn’t respond immediately. Maybe he took the bait.
“It’ll make sense to everyone. I ran off with Liam. That makes sense, right? I would do that. I did.”
Bec
ause I believe that we’ll disappear after the party—he’ll kill us. Both of us. I’m more trouble than I’m worth, and Liam’s too dangerous. He has no reason to keep either one of us alive.
“I’ll play the part. I’ll be pleasant at the party. I’ll keep Liam under control.” I let my voice drop, falter a bit. “Just let Liam be my date, that way… that way we get one last day together.” I miss a beat before adding, “Before you let us go, I mean.”
He doesn’t immediately respond and I’m antsy. Do I add an imploring, “Please?” or is that too much?
Then Pietro says, “All right. On the condition that you convince him to tell me where the stolen shit is, I’ll let you do that.”
“I will,” I promise, not having to feign my eagerness. I could give a fuck less about stolen drugs, but if Liam does still have something Pietro wants, and he figures I can get the information for him, that gives me hope he’ll actually keep Liam alive.
“I’ll need to see Liam,” I tell him. “I want to know he’s okay before I… turn myself in,” I say, for lack of better word.
“You just heard him talking, didn’t you?”
“I’ll need to know he’s still okay,” I specify. “We’ll meet somewhere in the morning.”
“That’s not what we agreed on.”
“If I tell you where I am, you can retrieve me, willing or not. I need to know Liam stays alive. That’s the only reason I’m doing this, and if you hurt him, I’ll run for the hills.”
After a moment, he clips, “Fine. We’ll meet at Paul’s house. Early. Let’s call it 8am.”
I don’t know how I’m going to get there by 8am. I don’t know how I’ll get there at all. But he doesn’t know where I am, so he doesn’t know that.
“Fine.”
“And Annabelle? If you try anything stupid, I’ll kill another man you love, and this time? Right in front of you.”
Rage explodes in my veins until I’m shaking with it. I can’t speak. My mind is buzzing with blinding white fury.
I want him to die.
The call ends, but I’m rooted to the spot, overcome with loathing. And terror. Because I don’t know what I’m doing, and I could be making the biggest—and last—mistake of my life.
