Twenty-three minutes.
It takes twenty-three minutes before the car finally stops and doesn’t keep moving again. I’m yanked out of the car and expected to just walk in whatever direction they want me to…and I do.
I do what I’m told. I don’t fight it off.
Now is not the time. Yet.
I’m shoved into a cold metal chair that is far too small for my body. It’s hard and uncomfortable, and my torso is tied down to it.
Wherever we are smells damp and rusty. I can hear the creaking of old aluminum walls and what I’m fairly certain are dripping pipes.
Finally, the blindfold is taken off and I see the old warehouse all around me.
It looks like an abandoned building that’s part of the factory compound the Fiorellis own. I’ve never been here before, but I know it exists because Eivor had given me a list of every building he owns. I wonder if he even remembers he did that.
It doesn’t matter. All that matters now is figuring out how to get out of here alive. I might lose some pieces along the way, but if I can get out that’s all that matters.
As my eyes adjust to the dim lighting, I see the four guards that brought me to my knees standing around me. Two more stand near the entrance to the building. There might be even more. I decide that I need to expect more than I see. I can only see six guards, but I round up to ten. Ten guards that I need to take out one way or another. Ten guards that each, most likely, have a gun of their own.
This would concern me, but it means I’ve got ten guns at my disposal if I play things right.
“Where’s the boss?” I ask. Not caring who answers me, I just need to get them talking.
“Don’t worry about it,” one of them replies to me. A woman. She’s broad shouldered and strong. She looks like she could handle just as much as the three guys that stand nearby.
“I thought he was going to show me a good time,” I say with a smirk.
One of the guards, not her, steps over to me and backhands me without a second thought.
“Shut up unless you have something good to say,” he orders me.
I laugh, knowing it will only piss him off. He hits me again, and a third time. I can feel the imprint of his knuckles on my cheek and my face is throbbing but I don’t care. The angrier I make these people the more energy they’ll expend, and the more off their game they’ll be.
Anyone working for Eivor has to have a wicked side. Including me.
“Oh, I have a lot to say, motherfucker,” I say with a grin. “But I could show you better.”
“Yeah right, like you could take on any of us,” another guard says, his gun at his side and his arms folded. He seems like the most relaxed of the bunch.
“Don’t bother with him, he’s just trying to get a rise out of us,” the woman says, and I curse inwardly. Then again, maybe if I can get them to argue with each other that’ll be another plus.
The guard that has been hitting me smacks me upside the head this time and then grabs me by the throat. It’s not the same as when Alessio did it less than twenty-four hours ago. No, this man’s hand squeezes like he means to seriously hurt me. He pulls me up from the chair and my bindings stretch slightly.
“You’ll get what’s coming to you,” he says with a sneer.
I gather up as much saliva in my mouth as I can and I spit it down my chin and onto his hand and wrist.
He recoils in surprise and disgust, and his hand pulls away from me quickly.
I laugh. “You’re afraid of a little spit?” I lick my lips. “How pathetic.”
The guy growls out in irritation and wipes his hand off on his pants before stepping back to me.
“You’re going to tell us what you know about the Dresvanni family or you’re going to be in a world of pain,” he insists.
I blink at him. “Sure, go ahead.”
“You think I’m kiddin’?” he asks and pulls a knife out of one of the holsters on his belt. Then he slams it down into my hand, straight through.
