Page 65 of Savage Little Secret

“Forward,” Heavy Foot says once we finally reach the bottom of the staircase. It always feels like the longest walk when I can’t see what’s in front of me.

I exhale sharply as Heavy Foot shoves me back down into the chair and pulls my arms through the gaps in the back of it, a thin rope winding around my wrists to pull them together.

“Don’t ask to go again while I’m stuck watching you,” Heavy Foot tells me as he moves to the front of me, his breathing already heavier than before.

I tighten my grip on the glass shard, its sharp edge pressing into my palm. If I drop it in front of him, I’m screwed. “I’m good now.”

Heavy Foot scoffs. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

I listen to him walk off and head up the stairs to join his buddies in watching the game, the door thudding shut behind him. I take a few moments to breathe in and out steadily, calming my nerves and my shaky hands as much as I can.

My chance to break out of here is very slim. Every move that I make has to be precise. No mistakes.

Slowly, I turn the glass shard in my hand until it’s gripped in my fingers, the sharp edge sticking out. Furrowing my brow, I move my dominant hand back and forth, sawing the edge of the glass against the thin rope holding my wrists hostage.

The fibers give, then tighten again, like it’s fighting me back.

It may take forever to cut through the rope, but once I do, I’m one step closer to freedom. I don’t know how far away I am from civilization, but I’ll keep moving until I reach it or until I can flag down someone kind enough to give me a ride. I’ll do whatever it takes.

I’m done waiting to be saved.

24

Dmitri

Sean and I agree to meet in a neutral spot today.

With everything going on and the doubts that I have about him, it’s too risky to meet with him in one of the Irish-owned establishments, and I don’t even want him near any of mine. Like Andrei said, I need to make sure this guy isn’t fucking me over and using his own daughter as a distraction.

I step out of the SUV and shut the back door before tapping the back window, signaling for my driver to circle the block and park nearby.

My eyes sweep up and down the quiet sidewalk, barely spotting a soul. We’re a decent way from the center of the city, more toward neighborhoods and strips of old, local businesses. It’s less hectic here.

More private.

I walk down the sidewalk, passing by old storefronts with foggy glass windows and faded paint. I can’t even tell if they’re operational anymore. They’re probably all forgotten like this part of town.

Eventually, I spot Scott’s Bakery and Eastpoint Bank then the alleyway between the two brick buildings, prompting me to head down it where Sean is already waiting near the middle.

“Took you long enough. It smells like a dead rat and bad decisions,” Sean mutters, grimacing as he glances at a nearby dumpster.

I shrug, ignoring the sour smell. “Well, this is a neutral spot. No one from any family or organization will find us here.”

“You were specific about that. Something you want to tell me, Ivanov?” Sean questions me as his eyes narrow.

I lift my head up more as I tuck my hand in the pocket of my black jacket, feeling the groove of the handle of my handgun underneath.

It would be easy to put him down. It would also ignite a war we can’t afford, not with the Council circling and Cara still out there.

The Irish mob would call for an all-out war, and I don’t think that the Bratva is in the right place to deal with a full out war. We have way too much shit going on right now. Admittedly, most of that has to do with me.

“The Albanian boss wasn’t at the poker room like you said he would be,” I tell him.

Sean scoffs. “Well, I can’t decide for him if he wants to play poker or not one night. I just said that he was often seen there, yeah?”

“I questioned one of the Albanians. He didn’t even know Cara existed. He swore up and down that the Albanians have nothing to do with her or the shooting at the Wynn,” I reply evenly, keeping my temper at bay for now. I’m already frustrated by the lack of results that we’re both getting.

“You believe him?” Sean asks me as he lifts an eyebrow.