by Beck, J. L.
This is where they kept her? On a soiled mattress, in a cold and bare room. My Dove.
She doesn’t belong in a place like this. She should be safe and happy. Scanning the room one last time, I note that there is no blood, and no clothing tossed aside, other than the jacket. Both are good signs, and I’m going to hold on to them. They don’t prove that they didn’t hurt her, but all I can do is hope that they didn’t and that she’s not completely broken when I get her back.
Fisting the material in my hand, I bring it to my nose and inhale deeply. The faint smell of vanilla tickles my nose, and I suck that precious scent deep into my lungs. She’s a drug to my senses, to my mind, and body.
My sweet Dove.
At least I know one thing. Her not being here means that, at the very least, she is still alive. The question now, is how do I get her back from Xander Rossi, one of the most feared mafia men in the United States?
4
Ivan is quiet as he drives us to god knows where. I’m sandwiched in the back seat between the two guys that found me in my cell. I’m afraid to move, breathe, and damn well, too scared to talk. I do my best not to think about what’s going to happen next. Surely, if that Ivan man was going to kill me, he would’ve done it back in that cell, right?
Of course, there are worse things than death…
A million and one scenarios play out in my mind. The car jerks to a stop, and I blink out of my thoughts, realizing we’ve arrived wherever it is that we were going. Peering out the windshield, I see a massive compound ahead. There’s a ten-foot iron fence that cages the place in. It all but says no visitors welcome.
Two guards usher us in, and Ivan drives up the long driveway, past guard towers, and some smaller buildings. I guess escaping is out of the question.
In the center of the place is a giant house, or mansion even. It looks fancy. When we get closer, I see that there is yet another fence surrounding it. The lawn is manicured, and it doesn’t seem like even a single blade is out of place. The gate in front of us is manned by four men, and I shiver, wondering where the hell it is they’ve brought me. Prison, but nicer?
It looks nice but kind of deadly too. We drive through the gate that leads to the mansion and down the road until we make it to a plain-looking building. I’m shaking, and there is a sheen of sweat on my forehead. Ivan shifts the car into park and kills the engine.
Ivan steps out of the car, and both men open their doors. One of the men wraps his hand around my wrist and pulls me out of the SUV. Shocked, I let out a gasp and tug my arm from his hand. I’m so tired of people grabbing me. Tired of being tossed around like a ragdoll.
“Don’t touch the girl,” Ivan orders, with a look so deadly, it makes my heart quake in my chest.
“It’s not like I hurt her.” The unknown guy shrugs his shoulders.
Ivan ignores him completely and starts walking away. My feet scrape against the concrete as I scurry behind him. I don’t want to be stuck out here with these guys by myself.
“I’m glad you decided not to run,” Ivan says and I almost roll my eyes. Where am I going to run to? He walks me to the large metal door. It looks like it weighs a ton, but of course, a man of his size opens it like it’s a soda can. With the door open, he motions for me to go inside.
I’m not sure if I’m walking myself to my own execution or to a chat with an old friend. Either way, I’m not letting him see how scared I am. Forcing my arms to casually hang by my side, instead of wrapping them around my torso like I want to, like I need to, I walk into the building.
“That way,” Ivan says and points down the hallway. The walls are bare, and everything from floor to ceiling is a light gray color. My shoes squeak against the floor as we walk. He leads me to a room that doesn’t look any different than the hall, except that it holds a table and a few chairs in the center.
“Where are we?” I ask as I step into the room, gazing over my shoulder hesitantly.
“Sit,” he orders, ignoring my question. “I have my guys checking on the story you told me right now, but in the meantime, I’d like to hear the whole thing again from you, and I’d like to ask you some questions. For instance, why were you at Christian’s compound, and how long were you there?”
Sighing, I slump into the chair. I guess I’m being interrogated now.
For the next hour or so, I tell Ivan my story. I repeat the same thing three times. I tell him how they kidnapped me from the hospital. How they kept me in that cell. I tell him everything I can remember about my stay there. Every conversation I overheard. I describe every person I saw and anything else I can possibly remember, none of which gives a single clue as to why they were keeping me there in the first place.
By the time I’m nearly finished telling him the same story for the third time, my interrogation is interrupted by Ivan’s phone ringing. He pulls it out of his pocket and looks at the screen before looking at me and back down again.
Ivan answers the phone with a grunt, then raises his eyebrows curiously when the person on the other side says something. I can hear a male voice coming through the receiver, but I can’t make out what he is saying. I feel like a small child right now. My butt is sore, and my back is stiff from sitting on this plastic chair for so long. I’m exhausted, physically, and mentally, and all I want to do is to lie down somewhere and go to sleep.
“Got it, boss,” he finally says and ends the call. “Well, this is going to be either really bad or really good for you.”
Fear replaces the pain in my butt cheeks. “Huh? What does that mean?”
“The boss himself is going to come here and talk to you,” Ivan explains.
Puzzled, I stare at him. “I thought you were the boss?”
“Not quite.” A shiver runs down my spine at the thought of meeting the man that has the power to order a guy like Ivan around. I chew on my bottom lip nervously as we wait in silence.
A few minutes later, I hear footsteps approaching from down the hall. I instinctively sit up a little straighter, wanting to seem less like a bug that this man can squish. Wringing my hands in my lap, I watch as the door opens, and a tall man, wearing a black tailored suit, appears. He’s not as large as Ivan, but his dark eyes tell me he can cause just as much damage and mayhem… maybe even more than him.
His eyes are downcast, reading something on a paper he is holding as he steps into the room. He looks angry, almost furious, like he is about to yell at me, maybe beat me or worse.
“You interrupted my family dinner, little girl,” he growls, his voice dripping with annoyance and hatred… hatred for me. He throws the stack of papers on the table in front of him and looks up at me.
Dark eyes connect with mine, and for a moment, I’m so scared, I forget to breathe. Then, something weird happens. An emotion I don’t understand flickers in his gaze… pity? His eyes soften, but not much, and they swirl from pitch black to stormy cloud gray.
He takes the seat next to Ivan, never taking his eyes off of me. His stare is so intense, it makes me even more uncomfortable than I already am. It’s like he’s inspecting me, trying to figure me out. I do my best not to squirm in my seat, but that’s a little hard with two of the most intimidating men I’ve ever seen sitting before me.
After an awkward moment of silence, he starts talking. “Dove, is it?”
“Yes,” I answer before asking, “Who are you?” I don’t know where this burst of confidence comes from, but I kind of like it.
He raises one of his eyebrows and leans back in his seat as if he is just getting comfortable. Maybe I should’ve kept my mouth shut. Screw my newfound confidence. That shit is going to get me killed. I need to be quiet like a mouse to get myself out of this.
His lips twitch up into the tiniest smile before he introduces himself. “Xander Rossi. And you, Dove, are at my compound. I expected you to tell Ivan the truth. We did save you after all, didn’t we?”
“I didn’t lie,” I start to defend myself, but Xander holds up his hand, shutting me up.<
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“You told us you were kidnapped at the hospital, but your employer reported you missing a week prior to that. There was a police report stating that your apartment was broken into, nothing of value was taken, but it was ransacked like someone was looking for something.”
“My apartment?” I question as if that’s my biggest issue right now. “I-I can explain.”
“Explain then,” Xander growls a warning in his tone, “Better make it good.”
“I didn’t lie. Everything I said happened… I just didn’t tell you what happened before that. I didn’t think it would matter.” I shrug. “And I really just didn’t want to talk about that part.” My lips tremble as I speak, and if I didn’t want to make myself look weak, I was doing a really shitty job of it.
“What happened before?” Xander asks, cocking his head to the side as if the newfound angle well help decipher what I’m saying better.
“This is probably going to sound like a lie, but I swear it’s not. I was kidnapped… twice. One time from my apartment and then a second time from the hospital, but the first time it wasn’t Christian. It was…” I pause, wondering if I can tell this part without starting to cry. I don’t want to, but tears are already dwelling in my eyes. Blinking the tears away, I continue, “His name was Zane. He kidnapped me first, but not to hurt me. He just wanted to keep me safe.”
“Zane?” Xander says his name as if he’s tasting it. He and Ivan exchange a glance, then he turns back to me and asks, “Who is Zane to you?”
“We both grew up in foster care. We were in the same home at one point. A bad one.” My voice breaks at the end, and I’m no longer able to hold back the tears, no matter how hard I try. The memories of that time rush forward, the memory of him. William, Zane, how I lost him twice now. Unable to look at the two men, I lower my gaze and stare at a random speck on the table instead.
“Do you know where Zane is now?” Ivan is the one who speaks this time, his voice soft.
“He is dead.” I start to sob. “Christian killed him.”
“I think I can put the rest together myself. Christian must have taken you to get to Zane,” Xander says.
“So, you believe me?” I glance up at him, hopeful that he is going to let me go.
“I do, but you did withhold information, and that’s pretty close to lying.” He starts tapping his finger against the table like he is thinking about what to do with me.
Please, don’t kill me… “Ivan asked you to tell him everything, and you didn’t. I don’t like that. How can I be sure that you aren’t still keeping things from me? I don’t like liars, Dove, and I’ve killed men for lesser things.”
“I’m not! I swear. I don’t know anything else.” The words spill from my lips, and I slam my knee against the table, attempting to get them out.
“How old are you?” Xander asks, changing the subject abruptly.
“Twenty-one,” I tell him, wondering why he cares about my age. When he doesn’t say anything else, I start to worry. I chew the inside of my cheek until I taste blood.
“Please, just let me go,” I beg, in a last-ditch effort.
“I can’t do that,” he finally says, his voice clipped. “You’re going to have to stay here, for now at least, until we get everything figured out.”
“What? Why?” I stand up, having the sudden need to move. Or maybe for one second, I just want to feel bigger than the two men sitting in front of me. “You can’t just keep me here. I’m not an object that can be taken and passed off to another person. I’m a human.”
“I can, and I will.” Xander gets up as well, turning his back to me. “Put her in one of the rooms back here. Have two guys posted in front of her door at all times. No one gets in this place without my permission.”
“You got it.” Ivan nods, and Xander disappears from the room, the imprint he made lingers behind like a heavy fog. “Come on, I’ll bring you to your room.”
“You mean prison?”
“Call it what you want, but it’s a whole lot nicer than the shithole Christian kept you in.”
“Great,” I murmur under my breath. It’s still a prison. We leave the room, and I follow him down the hallway, knowing that there is no use in trying to run. I saw the security outside this building. I wouldn’t make it ten feet out there, without someone shooting me. Escape isn’t an option at this point. I’ll have to make do with what’s here and come up with a plan later.
When we get to the very last door at the end of the hall, he opens it and waves me inside. To my surprise, I find that he wasn’t lying. It is much nicer than my last cell, and no matter how bitter I am about still being a captive, this is a huge relief.
The room is small and doesn’t hold much, but there is a bed inside. A bed with fresh sheets, a pillow, and a blanket. The second thing I notice is an attached bathroom.
Thank god.
“There is a shower in the bathroom. Towels and everything else you need should be there too. The closet has extra clothes. They’re men’s clothes, but they’re clean.”
“Thanks…” I murmur before I can stop myself. I shouldn’t be thanking him for anything. Then again, I guess it could be worse. These guys might not be good guys, but they are definitely the lesser of the evils I’ve had to endure.
“Take a shower, get some rest. I’ll have someone bring you food in a bit. You need anything else?” he asks, and I shake my head, no. With that, he closes the door behind me, leaving me in the small room. I stand there for a minute, just taking in the new situation and processing everything that has happened in the last few hours.
I’m tired, so freaking tired, I could fall asleep standing up, but the smell of my armpits is enough to wake the dead, so I definitely need to take a shower first. I start to explore the room, and just like he said, there are men’s clothes in the closet and towels in the bathroom. The shower is stocked with new soap and shampoo.
Stripping out of my soiled clothes, I turn the water on hot and take the longest shower of my life. I wash my hair and rinse it three times until I feel clean enough to get out. I felt so dirty after not showering for days.
When I’m done, I dry off and slip into one of the oversized men’s T-shirts, and crawl into the bed. It doesn’t look like it, but after sleeping on the grimy old mattress, this seems to be the most comfortable thing ever.
It doesn’t take me long to fall asleep. I feel myself drifting off the moment my head hits the pillow. My last thought is that I hope tomorrow is going to be a better day.
5
Matteo wasn’t happy when I came back to the house without Dove in hand. In fact, he was almost more upset than me, which confused and enraged me all at once. The beast in me was beating violently against the cage that housed him, wanting so badly to break free. Part of me wanted to unleash him just to see what would happen. Dove is mine, and I’ll kill him to prove it if I have to.
All I have to do is hold out a little bit longer before I can kill him and toss him aside, like the asshole he is. Until then, I have to follow his orders, at least if I want to find Dove. Which, as of right now, includes going to Damon Rossi’s strip club to demand a meeting with his brother, which I’m one-hundred percent sure isn’t going to happen.
“Why do I have to take Alberto with me?”
“Because I said so,” Matteo says. I don’t understand why he insists on his second in command coming with me to see Damon Rossi. There must be more behind it than him sending a babysitter.
“I don’t care to be a part of your pissing contest with Xander Rossi. All I care about is Dove,” I barely get the words out. My patience is as thin as the blade I plan to slit Matteo’s throat with.
“This is part of getting her back, you want her back, you do this. Otherwise, you might as well have tied a nice little bow around her.”
“Shut up!” I growl, knowing that if I didn’t need this bastard right now, I would already have bashed his head in.
“I shouldn’t have to tell you to be grateful that
I’m even offering to help you. I could’ve shot you dead, after the way you marched in here,” he sneers, curling his lip. “Remember, it’s you who needs me… I don’t need you.”
I don’t get a chance to respond before he walks out, the sound of the door slamming, echoes through the room. I’m exhausted, angry, and disappointed...I’ve never felt the way I’m feeling right now. Hopeless beyond measure. I’m doing everything I can to stay afloat, but the waves of despair keep crashing into me. I need Dove. Need her scent surrounding me, need to feel her body against mine, but above all, I just need to know that she is okay, and none of that will happen until I finally have her in my arms again.
Shoving the emotions that are threatening to overtake my psyche down, I mentally prepare myself to talk to Damon Rossi. I’m not stupid, walking in there and demanding a meeting with Xander isn’t going to go well for me. The fucker will most likely laugh in my face, but I have to do this. I have to try and find out where they have Dove, and what they’re doing to her. This is no longer about her just being mine.
This is about me protecting her, saving her. We were destined to be together since the night she was dropped off at my foster home, and though I’m nobody’s white knight, I’ll do anything to save her. Anything.
* * *
A neon sign flashes brightly back at me as I pull into the parking lot of Night Shift. I’ve been pissed off since I left Matteo’s, and I get the feeling coming here is only going to sour my mood further. I’m tired of the mafia games. I never should’ve left the safe house with Dove.
I know Donna was dying, and that Dove never would’ve forgiven me for not being able to say goodbye, but I could deal with her hate if it meant she was safe and sound, tucked into my bed every night beside me. Instead, here we are because I let my feelings for her call the shots, instead of my brain. Sighing, I turn the car off and open the driver’s side door.
