by Anne Marck
I turn back around, bumping into the waitress.
“They may have gone to the bathroom.” She nibbles on the corner of her pen in a failed attempt to draw my attention.
“Do you mind if I check?”
In response, I get a look of disapproval, like I’m a fucking pervert.
“It’s important,” I stress.
At my seriousness, she turns around and heads toward the back. Without hesitating, I follow.
Yes, now that I think about it, I look like one of those obsessed boyfriends.
Opening the bathroom door, we immediately hear muffled grunts of more than one person. Oh hell, this isn’t good.
With all my warning bells going off, I push the waitress aside and walk into the bathroom, my blood pumping and a shiver of bad omens blinding me. I go to the first stall, push the door open, and find it empty. At the second, the groans increase. I knock, knowing they’re in there.
“Get back. I’m going to break open the door.” I wait a second before slamming my shoulders against the thin door.
Fucking hell!
Katarina and Gabrielle are gagged and tied up with metallic tape. Luna isn’t with them, and their panicked looks tell me what I don’t want to know.
“He took her! The guy took her!” Gabrielle tells me in a shaky voice the moment the tape leaves her skin.
“Who? Who took her?” I struggle to keep calm.
“A tall, ugly guy with a tattooed cross near his eye!” This comes from Katarina. “Luna knew him! Damn, his name is something like …” She narrows her eyes, trying to remember. “Disgusting? I don’t know … Dirty!” Her eyes shine. “His name is Dirty!”
Dammit!
I have to put my hand on the wall to support myself. “How long ago?”
“Not ten minutes, Dominic. It just happened,” Gabrielle says uneasily. “And he’s armed.”
“She told us about Vincent Wine,” Katarina says as the waitress frees her wrists. “Do you think he has something to do with it?”
I bite the inside of my mouth, tasting blood. “The reward he’s offering—”
“We need to call the police,” the waitress says in alarm.
Katarina and Gabrielle stare at me, tense, waiting for a decision.
Shit. Should I involve the police?
Including the police could put Luna’s life at risk. On the other hand, if Vincent Wine is exposed, he probably won’t want to another attempt to kill her and draw more attention to himself. Hell, I don’t even know if Dirty ever made contact with the damned politician, or if he decided to act on his own. One thing is certain: Dirty wants the reward money, and if he hasn’t called Wine yet, he will soon.
“Can you stay here and take care of it?” I ask the women.
“Of course,” Katarina assures.
“Should we tell them who she is?” Gabrielle asks, looking worriedly at the waitress.
“Yes, tell them she is Luna St. Clair, Vincent Wine’s stepchild.”
The women nod, looking supportive. I always knew Luna would be in good company with them.
I leave the cafe, letting them take care of the police when they arrive. Gabrielle still has her phone, though Katarina’s was destroyed. They’ll call me as soon as the cafe owner finds the security tapes, giving us some clue as to how Dirty took Luna from here.
I hope the police are quick to find her, but I’m not going to waste time. I have to find my girl.
I pull my phone out of my jeans pocket and call the pastor.
“Dom,” he answers without delay.
“Dirty Raidapped my woman,” I tell him. He already knows the story from when I asked him for help in finding the trafficker.
“Son of a bitch,” the calm pastor and one of the best ex-cops the city has ever had, curses.
“Slashing the tires wasn’t a threat; it was a distraction,” I admit.
“Raid and those boys … It was probably one of them,” he concludes.
“I need your help finding my girl, Simon. Talk to your police contacts; see what they can do.”
“Right. We’ll be in touch, Dominic.”
I get on the bike, feeling as angry and scared as ever, more than when I saw my brothers on the verge of death.
I would give my life for that woman without hesitation.
Luna
Lying on the floor of the vehicle, I can’t see where we’re going. As much as I try, I can’t shake the panic that there’s no way out this time. By handing me over to Vincent, Dirty is taking me to my death. Then I won’t be able to do anything to expose him.
I notice the vehicle slowing to a stop. Then Dirty turns back, pointing the gun in my direction. “Make a move, bitch, and I’ll pop your head. Your daddy will thank me.”
I bite my tongue from correcting him.
Dirty quickly descends from the van, and then I soon hear an iron gate scratching against pavement. All I see is the roof of a very simple house with peeling paint.
Back at the wheel, he steers the car in then descends again and the gate is closed.
“Get down,” he says when he gets back in the vehicle.
I take a deep breath and do as he says. Then he grabs my arm, and I’m hoisted into a dilapidated house with broken glass, a faded façade, and unkempt tall bushes in the front. The door is open, but all I perceive is a musty smell and darkness. Blankets cover the windows, blocking sunlight.
A solitary bulb in the ceiling is lit, and then I see a little bit of furniture in a dirty room. It’s obvious that nobody lives here, and the realization spreads shivers throughout my body.
I’m thrown to the floor, my back slamming against a cold wall. Before I can even react, Dirty is standing above me and, in the blink of an eye, he kicks my thigh.
Holy crap, it hurts.
“You got into my business.”
Another kick to my ribs has me curling up in a defensive position.
“You got into what’s mine!” He picks me up by my hair and forces me to face him. Then he points his yellowed finger at my face, trembling with anger. “That bitch is mine, and after I get my money, I’m going after her. Do you hear me, you nosy little bitch?”
I try to release myself from his grip, but he holds my hair harder.
“No one gets in Lamar’s way! Nobody!”
“Dirty fits you better,” I tell him in a desperate attempt not to give in to crying.
He slaps me across the face so hard that I get dizzy.
“Only open your mouth when my cock is buried in it, little slut,” he spews, pushing my head one last time against the wall.
I take a deep breath, feeling my eyes glaze against my will, and watch his feet move away into the other corner of the room.
The idea of him touching me that way alarms me to the point of no longer being able to remain calm. And that feeling gets worse when I hear the sound of buttons being pressed on his cell.
“I want to talk to him.” He listens to something. “Hey, you son of a bitch, I’m only dealing with this fucking thing with him.” More silence. “You can be the Pope or the brother of a demon, for all I care. I only deal with him!” The last part is yelled.
God, he’s talking to Frank.
Dominic
It took a huge effort to maintain control with the boy Raphael, or Raid, as the little shit wants to be called. All he knows is that Dirty called him and ordered him to slice my tires. He had no idea that Dirty Raidapped Luna.
When all this shit is over, I will definitely be having a conversation with him. The crap life he chose only leads to two paths, and neither are good.
My phone rings. On the display is Gabrielle’s number. I answer quickly, hoping for news.
“Dominic, it’s Gabrielle,” she says quietly and with a weary sigh. “We spoke to the police and … Wait, I’ll put you on speakerphone.”
Traffic noise invades the line.
“Katy and I just left the coffee shop,” she says.
“Hi, Dominic, it’s Katarina,�
�� the other woman says, sounding no better than her friend.
My warning bells roar. There is worse news.
“We waited for the police, and we talked to them. But just before they arrived, the owner of the cafe showed us the videos from the parking lot. Luna was taken in an old white van, but the license plate was covered.”
I swallow bitterly. Damn, the bastard knows how to hide.
“And …?” I ask, knowing that’s not the reason for all the anguished silence.
“There was something about the cops,” Gabrielle begins. “We think they’re—”
“They’re corrupt,” Katarina finishes. “After they heard the politician’s name, their attitudes completely changed.”
“Please explain,” I ask patiently. If they could see how wound up my muscles are, they would know my patience is just a façade.
“Katy and I told the cops what happened. When they learned that Luna was related to Vincent Wine, one of them walked away to talk on the phone. Upon returning, he ordered the owner of the cafe to deliver the video recordings to them and blatantly demanded that he delete the files from the system.”
“And …” Katarina continues, “they said we don’t need to go to the police station. They didn’t take our statements, just our phone numbers and nothing else. That doesn’t seem like standard procedure.”
My stomach clenches. Damn it all to hell, how did I not predict a move like this?
“Well”—I take a deep breath—“thanks, ladies. Any news, we’ll talk.”
“Dominic?” Katarina calls before I hang up.
“Yes?”
“We know someone who might be able to help us find Luna … but it’s just an idea …” Her voice draws back a note. “Any word, let us know, Dominic. We are with you. Talk to you later.”
“Later,” I grumble.
Dominic
I drive the bike to a guy who won’t be willing to help me but who has the means to do so. I picture Luna in my head, reinforcing my determination. I’m doing everything for her.
I should call Sophie and let her know what I’m about to do. However, time isn’t on my side.
I met Sophie a few years ago through Simon. Only a few minutes by her side and I could see what she was struggling to hide from the world: excruciating pain guarded by peaceful, professional beauty. Something in her seemed painfully muffled.
In the beginning, we kept to the necessary amount of conversation, and only about our work. Really knowing each other occurred gradually.
One day, we met to deal with a problem with a family assisted by the community center and by Sophie, as their social worker. That afternoon, after doing what was necessary, we went to get coffee. As we were talking, her posture suddenly changed. She stiffened, her face hardened, and her eyes were unable to hide the pain as she watched something behind me.
I eventually turned around and found the reason for her agony. That was when I saw Nicholas Salvatore for the first time.
Damn, for a fraction of a second, his eyes reflected the same suffering, but then he let it go as quickly as it came and assumed a stance of contempt.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
“Y-yes, yes. I’d like to go now,” she replied, embarrassed and hurried.
I could do nothing to keep him from approaching us, fast as a puma and venomous as a snake.
“A friend, Sophie?” His scornful tone did little to hide his resentment.
“Get out of here, Nico.” Despite her apparent strength, anyone who witnessed the scene would know that Sophie was raw.
“You told him?” The guy pushed his invisible knife even deeper.
“Please, just stop,” she managed to say, visibly uncomfortable.
“Being a cheap whore isn’t so easy, is it?”
In seconds, I was on top of him, pushing him away. I would have done it to anyone who caused so much pain to someone else.
He then pointed a gun in my face, but that wasn’t enough to stop me.
On the street, we could have fought to the death, and he could have shot me. That didn’t happen, though, because deep in his eyes, I saw that the bastard was as broken inside as Sophie.
Words didn’t have to be said to know what was going on there. I did the only reasonable thing, considering the situation. I turned my back on him and took Sophie with me.
Sophie opened up, and then I knew that man was a part, perhaps the center, of all her suffering. She was so utterly destroyed that I couldn’t even imagine how she could still fight for others.
Sophie and Nicholas Salvatore had been long-time boyfriend and girlfriend in a relationship that made some people unhappy. He is the Salvatore heir, a traditional Italian family who commands clandestine games and other transgressions throughout the city. To them, Sophie was just a poor black woman without a family, who had gone through several foster homes and had lived on the streets, and who was now a social climber.
After four years together, Sophie got pregnant, which was the trigger for the rogues’ reaction. Two months pregnant, she was drugged and raped by three men. Her rapists were no other than Salvatore’s two cousins and his brother. The severity of the damage caused Sophie to lose her baby, and now she can never have children.
There is no police report for the case. Besides the family having some police on their payroll, apparently Sophie “consented” to the synthetic drug known as the happy bullet. One doctor pointed this out in the blood results, but then the tests disappeared.
Nicholas Salvatore stupidly believed that Sophie had acted on her own. He trusted the version of the story that his family told him.
I would say he’s a blind fool, but he severed all ties with the Salvatores after that, creating a competitive empire against his own kin. Rumor has it he’s taking over everything that belonged to them in an undeclared war. Today, Nicholas Salvatore is one of the most powerful men in town.
The day Sophie told me the whole story, I looked for him and tried to make him see the truth. Damn, it had been almost two years since his woman had been destroyed by his family, and the bastard still believed she’d betrayed him. As much as he tried to hide it, though, Salvatore’s love for Sophie was tangible.
Deciding to bluff, I told him I’d give him six months to fix shit with her, or I would claim her for myself. Then I waited, seriously believing he would come for her. And one day, he did. Just over a year after our conversation, he knocked on her door. And fuck, I really was there, fucking her.
Nicholas couldn’t say he hadn’t been warned, but I definitely hadn’t anticipated getting involved with Sophie. Things just happened, sex became casual, and we soon got to the point of using it as a kind of escape.
The bastard had waited over a year to finally think with his head and still felt entitled to charge after something he had abandoned when she had needed him most. The visit ended with him swearing he would kill me. Now I’m going to ask him for help.
For Luna, I would do anything, even hand over my head on a platter.
• • •
I enter Nicholas’s restaurant and let the hostess know who I am. There’s a serious chance he won’t be willing to see me, but what other option do I have?
The hostess calls Nick on the phone, throwing me some glances while listening to whatever he says. When she hangs up, she looks at me professionally.
“Mr. Salvatore asks that you go up to his office.” She points toward a flight of stairs. “Down the hall, Mr. Dominic.”
I nod then head for the stairs. I’ve been here before. I know where it is.
Nicholas is waiting for me near the door, propped against the doorframe. His war-like stance contradicts his curious eyes.
“Salvatore.” I nod.
“Dominic,” he returns with the same dryness.
I head in, and then he closes the door. I watch him walk slowly to a bar next to his desk.
“What’ll it be?” he asks with his back to me, pouring whiskey into a glass.
“Anything.
I came to ask for your help,” I dive in.
His shoulders stiffen, and then he turns his head to meet my gaze. “The last time we met, you were fucking that whore.” His meticulous attitude barely masks his anger. “And, if I recall, our meeting wasn’t exactly pleasant.”
“That woman’s name is Sophie, Salvatore.” I struggle to stay impassive, not liking his derogatory remark. “And our meeting wasn’t pleasant because you went to her house to accuse her of all that shit when, deep down, you know it was all lies.”
Nicholas downs the contents of the glass in one swallow, his expression bitter and his fists clenched. “What I know is she’s worth as much as a whore,” he seethes.
“Fuck this. I didn’t come here to argue. I really need your help, man, but I can’t sit here while you talk about Sophie like this.” Patience is no longer a virtue. “She’s worth more than the two of us combined.”
He narrows his eyes. We are both in a battle for control.
He knows this visit reveals my level of despair. And I know his hatred for what he thinks I feel for Sophie may be the reason he won’t help me.
“What do you want from me, Dominic?” The coldness of his tone doesn’t shake me.
“Someone Raidapped my girlfriend. I’ve come to ask you to help me save her life.”
A defiant look rips across his expression. “Why would I help you?”
“Honestly, I don’t know,” I reply with the determination of a man who would face the world to have Luna safe. “I’m willing to do anything for her.”
An ironic, lifeless, perhaps bitter smile crosses his lips. “From experience, I can tell you that there are some things not worth fighting for, Dominic. You should know that.”
“We’re different, Salvatore. You gave up your woman too easily and preferred to believe in lies. I, on the other hand, would go to Hell to get mine back.”
Impatient and defeated for knowing that I’m wasting my time here, I breathe deeply, brushing my hand down my beard. I’m fucking lost.
A stifling squeeze erupts in my chest. I have to get out of here and turn the city inside out. I have to find Luna.
