Night had fallen, and no one had come back.
April's arms had gone completely numb. Her twisted ankle throbbed. Her mouth was dry again, her throat aching. But worse than the physical discomfort was the fear. The not knowing.
Where was Shane? Was Kevin okay? Did he know she was missing yet? Had they told him? God, her poor baby. He'd be terrified.
Oh, God. And he’ll blame himself for this.
She watched the rain fall, the shadows dancing in the light from outside, and her mind drifted to another rainy night. Running from the downpour into Shane's house for the first time. Kevin laughing, Pete shaking water everywhere. The cozy warmth of Shane's living room, the way Shane had looked at her like she was something precious.
The contrast nearly broke her.
If she died here?—
No. Stop it. Don't think like that.
But the thought persisted. If she died here, Kevin would be okay. He'd have Sonny and Miriam and Hannah. He'd have Shane, who would petition to adopt him in a heartbeat, and no one would fight that. He'd have all of Watchdog, all those fierce, protective men who'd shown up to the courthouse just to support her. Kevin would grieve, of course. He'd mourn his mother. She knew no one could ever completely replace her, but he'd have her friends, the most amazing women in the world, stepping in to be the next best thing.
He would be okay. Ultimately, he would survive this if she died.
The realization was both devastating and oddly comforting as she listened to the soft, steady rain and stroked her engagement ring.
Except I have no intention of dying. And every intention of fighting.
Vince had gotten himself in way over his head with the Russian mob. And for whatever reason, he'd lied to these people about her. Told them she had access to some crypto fortune. Why would he do that? What did he possibly have to gain?
Unless he really believed it. Unless he'd convinced himself over the years that she'd stolen from him somehow.
Footsteps again.
April's head snapped up. The door opened. The overhead light came on, harsh and bright, making her squint. Dimitri walked back into her view, and this time he had the gag in one hand and another bandana in the other.
"What are you going to do to me?" April asked, hating the tremor in her voice.
"Oh, we're going for a ride." Dimitri's smile was back, but it didn't reach his eyes. "It looks like this is your lucky night, April Taylor. You will return to your son and your fiancé. But only if you cooperate."
April's heart leaped. Return to Kevin? To Shane? But she didn't trust this man for a second. For all she knew, he was going to blindfold her, drag her outside, and shoot her.
"I can use the needle on you again," Dimitri said, watching her face. "But I would prefer not to. Or you can walk. Which will it be?"
April swallowed hard. "I'll walk."
"Good choice."
“But I really, really have to pee.”
Dimitri sighed. He moved behind her, and she felt him tying the bandana over her eyes. Not a gag this time—she was too nauseated for that, and maybe he knew it. The world went dark.
She heard the door open again. Another man entered—she could tell by the second set of footsteps. Two against one now. No hope of fighting.
She felt the ropes go slack around her legs, then her torso, as one of them untied them. "Up," Dimitri said. April's muscles screamed as she stood, her twisted ankle protesting.
Someone grabbed her arm and pulled her forward. Something cold and hard pressed against her back. A gun. “The bathroom is to your right. I will untie your hands so you may use them. This door will stay open, the blindfold will stay on. You will hurry. When you are done, I will tie your hands again. No funny business.” Dimitri prodded her with the gun to emphasize his point.
April nodded and a moment later her hands were free. Completely numb, they were practically useless. She stumbled forward and found the toilet about three steps in. At least she was wearing a skirt and could preserve some of her modesty. She finished, flushed, and stumbled back out. Her hands tingled painfully as the circulation came back, just in time to be tied up again.
They started walking. The two men spoke in Russian, their voices low and fast. April caught Vince's name once, then again. What were they saying about him?
They crossed the basement, April stumbling occasionally, her ankle throbbing, then up a set of stairs and through what felt like a couple of rooms. A door opened, and she felt the temperature drop. Two steps down. Everything sounded echoey now and she felt a cold breeze to her left.
