Her eyes narrow, and I can almost hear her calculating her odds.
Pushing the cloth between her teeth, I ignore her gagging as I tie a tight knot at the back of her head. Her soft, fine hair tangles in my fingers. I try to ignore the niggling emotion coiling in my gut.
Tears gather at the corners of her frantic eyes. Bright green, flecked with gold and defiance. I can’t have her seeing where I take her. Can’t have her remembering the route.
I extract another piece of cloth from my pocket as a tear trickles down her cheek.
A muffled protest comes from behind the gag, but she’s running out of steam.
I wrap the cloth around her eyes, securing it at the back of her head. Her breath comes in short, terrified gasps through her nose. The blindfold darkens with more tears.
I open the rear door of the car and guide her head down so she doesn’t hit the frame. Her body stiffens, but I overpower her and push her all the way onto the back seat, face down. Her short frame fits lengthwise, though just barely. Her bound hands strain against the zip tie, fingernails digging into her own palms.
I slam the door shut and press the button twice to engage the child safety locks. No way for her to open it from the inside, even if she somehow manages to liberate her hands.
She thrashes again like a cornered animal, kicking against the window, her muffled screams barely audible through the glass. Opening the driver door, I slip into the seat, ensure no one’s walking around, and head home. As I pull away from the bar, I make a brief phone call to one of the low-level guys I trust.
Lev answers on the first ring. “What can I do for you?”
“I have a situation at Red Bird’s.” I share the details, satisfied Lev will do a quick and thorough job of cleaning up my mess.
My pulse pounds in my ears as I hang up and glance at my captive in the rearview mirror.
The logical move is to drive somewhere isolated and make her disappear. Finish this.
But the thought of putting a bullet in her pretty head churns my stomach.
The warehouse looms ahead, a dark silhouette against the night sky. My sanctuary. My fortress. No one comes here except a handful of people from my inner circle, especially not murder witnesses.
Yet, here I am. With one trussed up in the back seat of my car.
I slide the key card through the reader, and the heavy steel gate to the underground garage rolls open with a mechanical hum. No guards here. Just deliberate isolation. Very few people require or receive access to my home. I inch forward into the concrete maw, the gate closing behind us with finality.
As my eyes adjust to the lighting, I spot a familiar black sedan on the far side of the garage.
Three doors open, and three men step out.
I scrub a hand down my jaw.
Chyort vozmi.It’s going to be a long night.
Chapter 6
Aurora
With each inhalation through my nose, my lungs burn, the gag between my teeth soaked with saliva. The fabric filling my mouth pushes my tongue down. I already managed to wear myself out by thrashing until my muscles screamed and rubbing my wrists raw beneath the zip ties.
My body trembles with exhaustion and fear. The blindfold presses against my eyelids, stealing even the small comfort of sight. I lie here, half sprawled across the back seat, and try not to think about how this might be my last hour alive.
The car smells expensive. Leather and some kind of musky cologne. Far too good for a killer’s vehicle. I wonder if he brings all his victims here. If the trunk is lined with plastic. If he’s done this before.
My gut says yes.
A fresh wave of panic rolls through me, and I try to regulate my breathing. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. In through the nose and out through the nose. The terror gushes back, stealing my rhythm and causing me to gag against the cloth. My throat constricts. For a few seconds, I’m pretty sure I’m going to choke to death.
No. Not like this. I don’t want to die like this.
Though tears still leak from beneath the blindfold, I force myself to calm down and slow my respiration. I haven’t cried this much since Samantha broke her arm falling from a tree when she was twelve.
