by Vi Carter
“Target is down, but I think the Handler has arrived. Copy.” His words are deep in his throat, and I reach around and squeeze his esophagus before moving around the tree. I don’t let him go as the air is cut off from his lungs. His shock slowly wears off, and I bring the butt of the gun down on his head. Releasing him, he slides to the ground. I take the piece out of his ear.
I can hear someone breathing on the other side.
“Dima?”
“Dima?”
I listen to the background noise to see if I can hear others, but it’s just the one voice.
The line goes dead, and I glance down at Dima before I leave him lying on the ground and move silently from one tree to the next. I need to make sure that no one else is here.
No one else is here, but they will come soon. Whoever he was talking to would send men, especially now they know it’s me. I return to Dima and drag him up off the ground before slinging him over my shoulder and carrying him to the wall.
I could slip inside and open the gates, but instead, I fling him over the small wall. He hits the ground hard, and a groan has me hopping the wall and picking him back up.
He fits in the trunk, and I slam it shut. I should check the cameras, but time is running out, and I hope to get some information out of this guy. That's what I did, after all.
Leaving the cube house behind, I dial the penthouse—the phone rings. No one answers. I know something is wrong. I dial Michail’s private number, and it continues to ring. I ring both of them again, but still no answer.
Fuck.
Pushing my foot down on the peddle, I race back to the penthouse. I shouldn’t have left her. Not after her telling me that she recognized Sacha and that he was a part of this. He must have made a final phone call saying she was with me before they killed him off. Whoever took all the other girls was tying up any loose ends.
I park in the underground basement and leave Dima in the trunk. He’s awake, banging loudly on the trunk. If I don’t shut him up, he’ll draw attention. I open the trunk; he’s ready to leap out. I slam my fist into his face several times, and he curls up to protect himself. But I don’t stop until his body stills. His chest still rises and falls, but I hope he stays silent for a while.
The ride up to the penthouse takes far longer than it ever has. I don’t take out my gun, but it’s ready for when I need it. Instead, I open the control box and disable the elevator once I arrive at the top floor. Whoever is here won’t be leaving. With that thought, the doors open.
CHAPTER EIGHT
EVIE
I’m back in my room, and I don’t know if I feel relief or fear of telling Lucca the truth. It could cost me my life, but he was right; I was stopping them from finding the girls. If the roles were reversed, they would do anything to help get me back. His words had left horrible images in my mind that I couldn’t shake.
Images of them shackled like we had been when they first took us—the day that destroyed me.
They had fished me out of the water along with the girl who had tried to flee from them. The one I had tried to save, but instead, they got both of us. I was one of five girls. I think we were all in shock as they dragged the girl up onto the deck. Later I had discovered her name was Helena. They had made an example out of her. She had died in front of us as a reminder that fleeing wasn’t an option.
I had replaced her on that ship. I always have those moments of looking back at my home and seeing the small candle flicker in the window, and I should have turned around, I should have gone back to bed. My life would have been mine. I wrap my arms around my waist as I think of my mother’s hugs.
“I miss you so much,” I speak the words out loud, and they are ready to break me when Michail enters the room. He closes the door and locks it behind him. I’m up and backing away from him. He’s holding his neck, and that’s when I notice a dart hanging from his neck.
“Hide,” He mumbles, and he sounds drunk. I’m back there again, back at the loading bay as all the security stumbled around.
The gun hangs from the tips of Michail’s fingers, and I race to him as the bedroom door shakes from something heavy on the other side. I take the gun, it’s far heavier than I expected it to be, but I manage to hold it steady as the door crashes in. My finger is held above the trigger like I’d imagine it should be.
I recognize the man straight away. He’s another security member from the ship. I don’t know his name, but I’d seen him around the ship a few times.
The sword in his hand is like a Samurai sword. The way he holds it tells me he knows exactly what he’s doing. The light catches the sharp edge of the sword.
Michail is mumbling, but I can’t understand a word as he tumbles to his knees. I move forward, but my legs lock and keep me in place.
“I’ll shoot.” I threaten the man.
I’m like an annoying fly to this man. He rushes towards Michail and slightly jumps in the air before he brings the sword down on Michail’s neck. Blood instantly pours, and the horror tears a scream from my lips. I’m screaming long after Michail hits the ground.
The man is marching towards me, and I pull the trigger several times, but nothing happens. I’m staring at the gun, wondering why it won’t work. I have no idea and don’t get any more time to try again as the man reaches out and takes a handful of my hair, dragging me forward. I don’t release the gun until it’s kicked from my numb fingers. It slides across the floor and doesn’t stop until it hits the skirting board.
He drags me from the bedroom, and as I pass Michail, he gargles for the final time before life leaves his gaze.
We move quickly down the hall as I’m dragged from the bedroom and into the living space.
I’m released without warning and fall to my knees in the middle of the lounge. Air stills in my throat, and all I can think of is what Lucca said earlier about the girls being raped or beaten. Is this how they were being handled?
“Where are my sisters?” I ask, standing up.
Sweat drips off the side of his face. His eyes dart around the space, and he isn’t focused anymore.
“Where is he?” He barks, pointing the sword at me.
“I don’t know.” I want to ask about my sisters again, but he moves closer and brings the sword to my throat. My hands rise into the air like I can stop him from killing me.
“Don’t lie to me.”
The sword nicks the sensitive skin of my neck. Warm liquid dribbles down, leaving a path of blood that soaks into my top.
“I’m not lying. Please.”
The sword is removed from my neck, and he points at the couch. “Sit down and don’t try anything.”
My legs feel like they are encased in blocks of cement, but when he points the sword at me again, I manage to make my way to the couch.
“Are my sisters dead?” I ask after a few moments of him sweating and pacing in front of me. He glares at me and tightens his hold on the sword.
“Be quiet.” His snarl has me sinking further back into the couch. My neck still aches, but I think it’s stopped bleeding. I feel petty even thinking about my sore neck when Michail is dead in my bedroom and what will happen when Lucca walks through that door? Will I have to watch him die before I’m taken?
That thought wraps itself heavily around my shoulders as I sit, waiting for Lucca to come back. The moment the red light appears over the elevator, both the man with the sword and I lean forward. The doors open, and Lucca steps out. He looks up at the man, but his gaze doesn’t touch me.
My body starts to tremble, and I want to go to him, but I don’t dare move a muscle.
Lucca takes off his jacket slowly, like a man with a sword isn’t standing in his lounge.
“I want out.” The man with the sword holds it with both hands as he takes two steps in Lucca’s direction, but he’s smart enough to keep his distance. Lucca’s calm is unsettling, and I don’t know if it’s that he doesn’t care if I die or if this man is no real threat to him.
Lucca hangs his
jacket up on a rack, and his gaze touches me. It’s quick, but his eyes flicker down to my neck.
“You hurt her.” He states.
The man quickly looks at me before frowning back at Lucca. “I want out. That’s all I want.” He’s sweating again. I can see it making a pathway down the side of his face.
“Michail,” Lucca calls his name, and I close my eyes against the image of Michail's gaping throat. I didn’t know him, but he was a man, a man who might have a family and didn’t deserve to die.
“He’s dead.” The man shuffles back and forth. “I just wanted to clear the air, but he wouldn’t let me. I had no choice. I want out of this.”
“You think I have the power to allow you to walk away from this?” Lucca’s voice is calm, and he unbuttons the sleeve of his shirt and rolls it up to his forearm.
“You’re the fucking Handler.”
My heart won’t slow, and now as this man swings the sword in a large arc with anger, I’m afraid he’ll turn and remember I’m sitting here and slice me to pieces.
The room closes in, and black dots swim around my vision. I dig my nails into my arm, and the sound that had ceased comes flooding back.
“You knew the moment you started this job that there are only two ways out.” Lucca takes a side step that brings him closer to me.
“You’re not doing yourself any favors, Handler. I can kill you both right now.” He barks.
“I think you’re intelligent enough to know that I can’t really grant you what you want.” Lucca unbuttons his other sleeve and rolls it up.
“I was only a lookout.” The man starts, and there is a dip in his voice.
Lucca nods. “Did you work with Sacha?”
“Yeah.”
“He’s dead.”
I’m staring at Lucca, feeling like he’s trying to provoke this guy, who doesn’t need any encouragement at all.
The man is shaking his head. “I was just talking to him.”
“I was just in his home, and his throat was sliced.” Lucca nods at the sword.
“I promise I’ll let you leave here with your life if you tell me where the girls are.”
The man half laughs. “I don’t know. They didn’t tell me where they were taking them.”
“Who are ‘they’?” Lucca asks.
The man is shifting from one leg to another, making me nervous. I glance behind me, I could slide off the couch and crawl behind it, but if I move, he will notice. He’s passing the sword from one hand to the other.
He’s going to kill Lucca and then me. Maybe I’ll be first. Would that be easier? Blood starts to roar in my ears, and I’m back in the water. I don’t want to go back here, but it’s like my mind reboots and sends me there when I can’t take much more.
My dad’s large arm wraps around my waist, and I’m airborne. I’m laughing. I’m happy. I’m safe.
The light reflects off his silver bracelet, and I blink.
“Nah, I’m not telling you. If I do, they’ll kill me.”
I’m back in the room, and I don’t want to be. Lucca glances at me, and so does the man.
It takes my foggy brain a moment to realize the man is moving towards me. I’m trying to scramble off the couch, waiting for the sword to come down on my back as I try to climb over the back.
My scalp burns as I’m dragged backward. Everything happens so fast. I hear Lucca curse; I’m falling down and crash heavily onto the ground. Pain radiates across my back and steals the air from my lungs. Lucca’s shoes shuffle close to me; he’s behind the man.
I can’t breathe as I watch the struggle. A large dark form falls beside me. His eyes are lifeless, wide open, and bloodshot, and my brain reboots again, only this time I’m not in the water with my dad in County Clare. Instead, I’m falling back into a pit of darkness.
I’m on a ship again; the sway under me is something I’m familiar with. It’s a comforting sensation for a brief moment until I sit up fully.
“You’re okay.”
I follow the hand that touches my shoulder all the way up to Lucca, who’s driving. “You’re okay.” He reinstates.
My hand automatically goes to my neck. I prod the bandage. “How long have I been out?”
I stare out the window at the deserted landscape around us. “Where are we going?”
A thudding sound from the trunk of the car has me looking behind me. “What the hell is that?”
“Take a breath, Evie.” Lucca’s words have me sitting back, but I don’t stay like that for long as whoever is in the trunk keeps banging.
“I’m hoping he has answers. I found him at Sacha’s house.”
Lucca removes his hand from me, and I feel the loss instantly.
“You’ve been asleep about an hour, and we are leaving the city. It’s not safe anymore.”
I’m nodding. “So, where are we going?” I’m looking out the window, not liking how deserted everything seems.
“To my home,” Lucca responds, and when I glance at him, he faces forward. I turn up the radio so I don’t have to hear the constant banging from the trunk and hope we find answers to where my sisters are.
CHAPTER NINE
LUCCA
Normally I only ever go home when I don’t have any jobs. It’s my time to unwind and spend time with Anita.
I glance at Evie, who’s sitting up straight while staring out the window. Even in her frazzled state, she’s still beautiful. The gates slowly open, and I drive up to the large house.
“This is your home?”
The front door opens, and Anita smiles when she sees me. Her gaze travels to Evie, and her smile falters only slightly. Instead, I see a lot of questions on my sister’s lips.
Once I stop the car, she’s marching down the three steps toward the car. Her skin-tight leopard-print suit is my sister’s signature clothing.
Evie hasn’t moved, and I don’t look at her. Most women are very intimidated by my sister. She’s a bit of a force, but she constantly looks out for me.
I don’t get the door open because she beats me to it.
“You’re home?” She raises both eyebrows like I might explain to her why I’m home with a girl. I climb out, and she moves back. The passenger door closes, and Evie steps around the car.
“Hi there, Kitten.” Anita walks around to Evie, who holds her hand out.
They shake, but the amusement in Anita’s face has her brows still raised.
Her bracelets jangle as she takes Evie’s hand.
“Hi. I’m Evie.”
“Evie, this is my sister, Anita.” I introduce them as I close my car door. Anita links her arm with Evie.
She’s beautiful; she mouths to me silently as she leads Evie into the house.
I want to tell her not to get attached, that this is work.
“You have Lucca’s eyes,” Evie says to Anita.
The way she says my name is like we are familiar with each other.
“Our mother was a looker. I’m sure yours is, too? Or is it your father?”
I close the front door. “Anita,” I warn. She had to turn everything sexual.
She waves me off without looking at me. “You hungry, Kitten?”
Evie is the one who looks back at me. “You go with Anita. I’ll join you shortly.”
Evie nods and leaves. I crane my neck from side to side before removing my jacket and going back to the car.
Dima is awake and back to rattling the trunk. I drive the car around to the back, close to the basement doors.
Once I’m near enough, I unlock the basement doors and get Dima out of the trunk.
He’s ready to jump, and I land a solid punch into his face. He cries out, and I use the moment to drag him from the trunk and push him toward the door. He stumbles down the steps and misses the last three. The door closes behind us, but the sensor lights turn on in the basement one section at a time.
A large pole in the center is where I drag a disoriented Dima to. I shove him against it keeping my hand on his ches
t. I clip the chains around his waist and chest and don’t release him until they are locked.
“Dima, this is your chance to save yourself,” I tell him as I roll up my sleeves and push over my trolley that holds my bag of tools. I roll the kit out slowly and let him see all the objects.
“Like everything in life, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. It’s up to you.”
He spits but doesn’t say anything. I take it as a no; he isn’t talking.
That’s how these things normally start out. They end a different way.
I take out a small knife. “That’s okay. I don’t like to rush in either.” I grin as I throw the knife. It grazes his ear and embeds itself in the pole he’s tied to.
I pick up another knife and throw it into the air before catching it. I’ve used these knives since I was a kid. They are like an extension of me.
“I grew up in Camp Cempt.”
Fear grows steadily in Dima’s eyes. It wasn’t a known fact about me. I only told that fact about myself to the people I knew would never reveal this about me.
Dima never would get to tell anyone. He would never leave this basement, no matter what he said.
“We were taken into the woods. It was always freezing, not that our beds were warm.” I point the knife at Dima. “But they gave us something that the wooded landscape couldn’t.”
I let the knife fly, and it clips off some of Dima’s hair which sails past his face and lands at his feet. Sweat drips down the side of his face.
“Ask your questions.” His voice still holds too much control.
I return to the trolley and pick up another knife. “They gave us an escape from General Obshcheye.”
Once again, Dima’s fear grows.
“We had to move through the woods without making a sound and hit the targets on the trees with our knives that he had set the night before.” I had lived for those moments in the forest.
