Matteo’s voice had a strange sound to it, like he wanted to say something else, but he was holding back. Lincoln had a feeling there was more going on here than he’d been able to figure out so far. Taking his phone out of an inside pocket of his coat, Lincoln scrolled through it to find the images of the men with Matteo. “These guys? You know them, right?”
One of the giants came up to get the phone from Lincoln and carried it back to Matteo. Lincoln saw the moment Matteo recognized the guys and his own image. “Obviously, I do.”
“Right, that means you know Roxie then. She’s the mother of my daughter, and I want her back.”
“I’m sorry, connect the dots for me? What aren’t you telling me?” Matteo looked back up at Lincoln, gesturing for the giant to give Lincoln his phone back.
Lincoln put the phone back in his coat and tried to figure out how to verbalize all of this. “They were sent to Roxie’s parents’ place ten years ago. Their visit saw her dad getting beat up. The second time she saw them, her house was on fire and those two were milling around, throwing the cops off the trail. I’ve been investigating this for a long time now. Those guys are connected to that fire. They’re connected to your…organization. They’re somehow connected to Roxie disappearing now.”
“I see,” Matteo said, that jawline of his hardening as his eyes turned inward.
Lincoln waited while the man had a little think about this new info. It was easy to connect the dots, once you knew the dots connected. There was still the missing question of why, but Lincoln could only assume Roxie’s parents owed those guys money. That was the only connection he’d been able to come up with. Nothing else existed to show a connection between Roxie’s family and the Alfonsi family. It might have been a personal matter between one of those guys and Roxie’s parents, but Lincoln knew enough about these mob families to know that the individuals rarely did anything on their own, not without consequences for potentially drawing heat to the family.
“I may have some information about this matter, after all. Excuse me a moment, please?” Matteo asked but walked away before Lincoln agreed.
I guess when you have that much power you don’t wait for someone’s approval, Lincoln thought to himself. He looked over at Paulo, who nodded in support. Lincoln gave a curt nod of his own and leaned back against the hood of the car he’d driven to the warehouse. He slid his hands down into his pockets, giving off the air of relaxed patience. Even if he wanted to jump up and down on Matteo’s head until he spilled all the information he may or may not have.
“Stay calm, my friend,” Paulo said as he came up next to Lincoln and took up the same pose. Calm, relaxed patience.
Lincoln breathed in, nodded again, and tried to wait without blowing up. His phone buzzed and he reached into his pocket to get it. A message from June.
“I can’t find Roxie. What’s going on Lincoln? WTH?”
Lincoln frowned down at his phone, knowing that WTH meant what the hell. Finally, June had caught on. Something was up and time was wasting away. The longer Roxie was missing, the more likely it was they wouldn’t find her. That’s why he stood there and waited for Matteo to climb back out of that masterpiece of a car and get back to him. If he had any information, Lincoln would need it.
A long twenty minutes passed before Matteo climbed out of the car, his face grim as his eyes met Lincoln’s. “I can’t tell you where or why, but I can tell you I think I know who is behind all of this.”
Lincoln stared at the man, silently urging him to go on.
“If I’m right, this Roxie person is in a lot of danger. I’ll offer any help I can give you. But you have to promise me one thing. If you get any information about this person, you have to share it with me. I’m going to nail them to the wall and flay them alive.” Matteo’s eyes were bright with the scent of revenge. Lincoln knew that much without asking, it was clear on the man’s face. Whoever had Roxie was on Matteo’s hit list. Fucking great.
8
Roxie
Roxie was cold. Shivering so badly she couldn’t stop it cold. The kind of cold that could kill. She turned to the wall, hoping her body would reflect heat off the wall and back into her body, but the cold wall just seemed to absorb what little heat she put off. Fear of dying was front and center in her mind.
“Get up, move around, get your blood circulating, girl,” Roxie said to herself, and stood up in the dark room. She wouldn’t knock anything over but the bucket, she’d learned that from her earlier search of the room, so she began to pace, walking as fast as she could back and forth, at the very end of the thick chain.
She walked, and walked, and then walked some more, despite how tired she was. Every time she stopped walking, she felt the cold air on her face and started to move again. Her worry was what would happen when she stopped. She’d built up a fine sheen of sweat on her skin, which was probably enough to make her even colder when she stopped.
And there would come a point when she’d have to stop. She couldn’t walk in the small room forever. Her legs would give out, even if she tried to stay on her feet. There was a possibility that Lincoln would be looking for her, but it wasn’t certain. Maybe he’d assumed she’d disappeared on him again, like she had all those years ago? He’d taken over the care of their daughter, she had no other real ties, it would be perfectly sane for him to think she’d suddenly decided to leave it all behind and start a new life. Again.
But, June would know something was wrong, right? Roxie had told her she’d talk with her later. And Dr. Bennet would know too. He’d planned to meet with Roxie at some point that day. When Roxie didn’t show, there’d be two people who knew that something wasn’t right. Wouldn’t there?
She could only hope someone would catch on to the fact that she was missing, and wish she’d worn an entire snowsuit out that morning. She’d give anything to have some of those little sachets that heated up, tucked into her coat pockets to keep her freezing fingers warm. They were probably horrible for the environment, but she’d love to have an entire box of them right now and some tape to plaster them over every inch of her skin.
Roxie slapped her hands against her arms, trying to get the blood flowing in them again. The cold was getting worse, but there was nothing she could do to help herself. Those two assholes had left her here to die, she knew that now. They weren’t coming back for her and this would be the place where she died. Every time she got the urge to sit down, Roxie reminded herself of that.
Once you sit down, you die.
She tried to remember warm days on the beach, hot nights with Lincoln in Cambodia, not for the steamy parts, but for the sweaty, burning heat she’d felt. Maybe if she remembered how hot she’d been, she’d warm up a little bit. Blood rushed to her cheeks, but little else happened.
“Come on, Rox, keep moving.” She got on her own case, there was nobody else to do it for her. That had often been the case in her life, though. She’d had to take care of her own problems for so long, it was kind of hard to remember a time when she didn’t have to be the grownup. Sure, her parents had taken care of stuff for her before they died, but she’d lived enough for three lifetimes since that day.
Now she was in the deepest shit of her life, and she was once again alone.
Roxie stopped pacing, staring around the dark room, straining to penetrate the darkness with eyes that weren’t up to the job. She needed night vision, but that wasn’t something most humans were born with. Taking a deep breath, she walked back to the bolt in the wall. She’d tried to loosen it up dozens of times, but nothing made the bolt budge. There was no way she’d manage to get it out of the wall, even when she’d tried to use the chain as a lever, the stupid thing hadn’t moved.
“Fuck me,” Roxie moaned, going back to her march.
She’d tried to figure out if there was a way to release the padlock that held the chain together at her waist, but there was nothing she could push into the lock. She’d tried to push the chain down her hips, or over her boobs, but she’d only managed to bruise
herself doing that. Still, a few bruises or a broken bone here and there might be worth it, if they got her out of the chain and out of that room.
She’d already felt around in her pockets, only to realize the men must have removed the phone June gave her. She was lucky they’d left her with her clothes and her coat, men with eyes that dead could have done far worse to her. That wasn’t worth thinking about, she reminded herself, and went back to pacing.
Her legs finally started to cramp after an hour of pacing, or what felt like an hour, and Roxie dropped to the floor in agony. Her left leg was cramping so bad she was almost screaming in agony. She pointed her toes back at her chest, a trick she’d learned from another dancer long ago, shrieking as the pain increased, but then it started to fade away. A dull ache remained in her calf, a pain that wouldn’t go, no matter how much she stretched the leg.
She’d had to deal with cramps very often when she first started dancing as a child. She hadn’t learned the toe trick until she became a stripper. Back then, she’d been getting a lot of leg cramps, probably from dehydration, but on the advice of the same dancer, she’d started to eat a banana every day, for the potassium. It was time to start eating bananas again, something she’d forgotten about in all of the turmoil lately.
She hadn’t expected the past year to go quite as it had. Well, things had initially gone south when Elmo’s burned down. There’d been enough good things in her life, at that point, to make up for the bad that came along after, but the good things had slowly petered out. Lincoln came back into her life, which had seemed bad, then good, then the most wonderful thing to happen to her. He’d been kidnapped by her dickhead ex-boyfriend, which had been one of the lowest points of her life, but they’d managed to get through that with Lincoln coming out alive.
Now she was the one in harm’s way. But had she ever really not been in danger? Between Nathan and the boogeymen from her past, it felt like she’d always had a cloud hanging over her head. Nathan had brought more danger into her life when he’d become involved with some kind of gangsters he owed money to, then he’d developed a drug problem. She’d needed that like she needed a hole in the head.
And the men from that night? The night her parents died.
Was that what this was about? She’d known there was some kind of danger in coming back to New York, to this part of New York, at least. There’d never been any answers, was that because the danger hadn’t ended when her parents died?
If they thought she knew something besides who the men were–well, she didn’t know their names, but she knew their faces–they were mistaken. There was no way she could identify them, unless the cops showed her pictures and asked if this was the men she’d seen beating up her father, and at the property the night of the fire. So was there really any need for all of this?
Unless this was some new threat, she decided, folding her arms around her chest to try to hold in her body heat. Could this be something to do with Lincoln and his business? Was there some enemy out there who wanted to get back at him, make him try to give up on something he was doing?
No, she’d been kidnapped in her old hometown. This had to have something to do with her old life, her old name. Which only strengthened her stance that her parents were murdered, despite what the police around here wanted her to believe. Were those police in on it perhaps? It wasn’t a new idea, it was one she’d circled around before, but she didn’t want to think they were dirty cops. She could handle inept policemen, but bad cops?
Lily’s face popped into her mind and Roxie sighed with a sniffle. Tears wouldn’t help anything, but Roxie’s baby girl might be what got her through this. Lily was conceived the night Roxie’s parents died, that was reason enough to keep her, to give birth to her. From the very first ultrasound picture, Roxie had loved her daughter.
She’d had to live like she didn’t have a child and that had hurt her a lot over the years, but she’d done what she thought was best for her daughter. Roxie’s life hadn’t been easy, even when she was flush with cash. Living with Aunt Katie had given Lily some stability, a kind of safety that Roxie couldn’t provide her with.
Roxie remembered the day Lily was born like it had only been hours ago. Lily’s face had been smooshed up, and she’d had a shock of black hair that made Roxie giggle. Aunt Katie had been there, helping Roxie to change the baby, showing her how to hold her and feed her. Everything Roxie had needed to know or needed to have done, Aunt Katie had been there for her. And the first picture taken of Roxie and Lily together had been taken by that same woman.
Those two people were all the family she had, and she’d do her best to stay alive for them.
Roxie pushed herself back up the wall and started to walk again.
As she paced the same route out across the room, Roxie remembered the day she left New York, headed for a new life. Aunt Katie had taken Lily from her with the promise that she would keep her safe, no matter what. Roxie knew that promise still stood. If the worst should happen here, Aunt Katie would continue to be there for Lily.
Small comfort, right now, but then there was Lincoln too. Lily would have those two to help her to grow up, to be the woman she should be. They would keep her from the kind of life Roxie had to live. They would make sure little Lily didn’t have to fend for herself, they would make sure Lily could be whatever she wanted to be.
What if she wanted to be a pole dancer? The thought cropped up suddenly, making Roxie smile. Lincoln would probably have a few choice words about that, but Aunt Katie? She’d tell Lily to follow her heart. She hadn’t judged Roxie when Roxie finally told her how she was making money. She’d just said she knew Roxie had to do what she had to do.
Lily had been so worried about meeting her dad, but he’d been so ready to meet her. Which reminded Roxie that there were still things she hadn’t told Lincoln. In a way, she was making the same mistake she’d made all those years ago. She’d run away to find answers this time though. That was the difference. She’d planned to go back when she had those answers. She’d planned to tell him everything, once she knew what had happened in the past. Well, she hadn’t actually got that far, but she had a vague plan to go back to Myrtle Beach. To claim her daughter back from the man who seemed to want to take over her completely. To tell him everything he needed to know.
Her hand went to her stomach, hunger gnawing away in there. She’d eaten plenty that morning, but it must be after five now. That meant she’d missed lunch, not something unusual for her. Still, she was hungry, but hopefully, it was just boredom more than actual hunger. Her hand remained at her stomach, cradling her fingers under her sweater for warmth.
Yes, there was at least one more secret to tell Lincoln. If she got the chance, that is.
Roxie went back to the wall and let her body slide down gently. She did some stretching this time, trying to keep another cramp at bay. It wasn’t easy with the chain around her waist, but she did manage to do a few stretches that should help.
When she’d completed what she could, she sat down on the cold floor. She was too tired to get up for more walking but she’d done a few dances, with a chain around her waist, which hadn’t been many, but even that was too much to think about right now. Sitting down could be a death sentence, but she needed to rest.
“Just a few minutes, then I’ll get back up,” she sighed out, even though there wasn’t anyone to hear her. “Why does it have to be winter?”
Of course, there was no answer, but she hadn’t expected one.
“What else can I do?” She wondered aloud, tucking her hands in her armpits, beneath her clothes. She tilted her head forward so her hair fell around her face like a curtain. She’d let it down earlier, when her ears got cold, now, she was trying to warm up her entire face. “It’s like a freezer in here. Shit.”
A tingle in her bladder made her get up again. If she sweated all of the water out of her body, she wouldn’t have to pee, right? That’s what she hoped anyway, as she walked quickly, trying to build up a sweat. She
did not want to use that stupid bucket if she could help it. Who knew if it was even clean? Which, she knew, wouldn’t matter if her bladder became insistent, but still, it was gross to think about.
She finally admitted defeat when her bladder ached deeper, despite the slight sweat she’d built up with a good dose of walking fast. “I don’t need to add dehydration to hypothermia.”
She did what she had to do, not caring if she hit the bucket or not at this point, almost hoping she didn’t at the same time. Not because it meant someone else would have to clean it up but because she really didn’t want to be anywhere near that awful thing.
That’s when she heard a noise outside the room. A noise that sounded like people coming in. Was it rescuers or her kidnappers? Her pulse began to pound as she stared in the general direction of the door, waiting to see if this was over with, or just the beginning. Or maybe the end of it all.
9
Roxie
“I see you’ve used the facilities. Well done,” a woman said in a slight accent, in her late fifties or early sixties, as she walked into the room, flicking on a light as she did so.
Roxie stared at her from the floor, her lips sealed in shock. A woman was behind this?
The woman was of Italian descent, with black hair, dark brown eyes, and the olive skin that bespoke her heritage. She was a thin woman with an expensive Dior dress on her slim frame, surrounded almost completely with a thick fur coat. Roxie decided the woman could be older now that she was standing under the light, plastic surgery may have hidden a year or two.
“Do I meet your expectations?” The woman asked with a laugh that revealed perfectly straight, gleaming white teeth. “I suppose I don’t. If I had to guess, I’d say you were expecting a man. That happens a lot, quite a lot.”
The woman’s words trailed off as she came closer to look at Roxie. “You look just like your mother, do you know that?”
Dancing With Redemption (Barre To Bar Book 5) Page 6
