Chapter 25: Chapter 25

It’s been over thirty-six hours since Eden was taken, and I’m starting to lose my mind.

I’ve just called Mrs. Stafford and asked her to check in on Quincy. When she asked what happened, I told her I had no idea.

I can’t deal with the ballet company right now, and she’ll have to run everything in my absence.

All I can think about is Eden.

I’m sitting in my office and staring at useless information.

A phone ringing draws my attention, and I glance at my jacket that’s still lying on the floor where I threw it after I took it off.

Getting up, I dig Eden’s phone out, and seeing Tyrone’s name, I answer, “Hi.”

“I’m losing my mind over here,” he whimpers, the heartache and worry making his voice sound much deeper. “I need to know something.”

I close my eyes. “I have nothing yet. I’m still looking.”

“But you’re the mafia. You can do shit. Right?”

I glance at the monitors where information is popping up all over, but there’s nothing of use to me.

“I’m looking for her, Tyrone,” I say, hoping it will ease his worry a little. “I won’t stop until I find Eden. I promise.”

The giant man chokes up, and I have to clench my teeth because my own emotions are all over the place. I’m up to my neck in worry, and my fucking heart is crumbling in my chest.

“I’ll find her,” I repeat the words more for myself than for Tyrone.

“Okay. Call me if you hear anything. Please.”

“I will.”

When he doesn’t hang up, I end the call. I place the device next to mine and stare down at the two cell phones.

Mine is brand new, and Eden’s looks like it’s been to hell and back.

I need to get her a new phone.

The thought robs the air from my lungs because I might not get the chance.

Thirty-six hours is a fucking long time. She could already be dead.

I suck in a painful breath, then my breathing speeds up. It feels as if my heart is slamming against my ribs.

She’s not dead.

I hear movement behind me, and turning around, I expect to see one of the guys, but it’s Esmerelda. The woman who raised me shuts the door so we’ll have privacy before coming to wrap her arms around me.

She doesn’t say anything because we’ve been here before, and we both know words won’t help.

It takes me a moment before I return her hug. The instant I do, the emotions, I’ve done my best to control, erupt like a volcano.

I grip Esmerelda tighter as my body shudders from the force of worry and heartache hitting me.

My housekeeper starts patting my back like she did when I was younger, and I almost break down and cry like a fucking toddler.

Unable to give in to the tears, I push her away and take a seat behind my system.

While my eyes flit over the monitors, I rein in my out-of-control emotions and force myself to focus.

Eden needs me.

“Can I bring you something to eat?” Esmerelda asks in a soft tone.

I shake my head. “Just take care of Bella and the other men.”

I hear the door open, and sucking in a deep breath, I begin to search every corner of the dark web.

Even though I know Eden was on a boat, I keep running facial recognition, hoping she’ll pop up again.

Eden

I have no idea where we are when the van comes to a stop.

I’m cold and about to pee right where I’m sitting.

The doors open, and the icy wind blows over our bodies.

At this rate, we’re going to freeze and starve to death.

Armed men haul us out of the van, and I quickly glance around, noticing we’re in a neighborhood. We’re ushered into a house that’s seen better days.

Are we back in Brownsville?

Nah. All the boats and shit just to come back here? That’s overkill.

As soon as we’re in the house, I mutter, “I need to pee.” When the men ignore me, I snap, “I swear I’ll piss right here.”

We’re shoved down a hallway and brought to a standstill outside a doorway.

“One at a time,” one of the assholes barks.

I’m shoved into a restroom, but as I turn to shut the door, the asshole shakes his head and snaps, “Piss or hold it in.”

“Jesus,” I mutter as I go to the toilet. With a fucking audience, I push down my panties and sit. While I relieve my bladder, I keep glaring at the motherfucking bastard for not giving me privacy.

When I’m done, I give him a daring look as I take a moment to open the faucet by the sink. I cup my hand beneath the cold spray and drink some water.

Leaving the restroom, I shake the extra drops off my hands.

When all of us are done using the toilet, one of the men orders, “Into the room.” He gestures with the barrel of his gun to another doorway.

I’m first to enter the room furnished with two shitty beds with thin, stained mattresses.

This place makes my apartment look like a mansion, which is saying a lot.

My eyes land on a bunch of ratty blankets, and not giving a shit that they might be flea infested, I rush forward and grab one. Wrapping the scratchy fabric around my frozen body, I side-eye the filthy beds while sitting down on the worn carpet.

The other women also grab blankets and find a spot against the wall.

When the men come in, my eyes lock on them, watching their every move.

Acting braver than I feel, I ask, “Are we going to get food?”

They ignore my question, and when one of them grabs the glazed-eye woman’s arm, and the other pulls out an injection, I shout, “Hey. Leave her alone!”

I climb to my feet, and not sure what to do, I watch as they inject her with drugs with a horrifying sinking feeling in my gut.

No. Fuck that shit.

Keeping the blanket around me, I make a run for it.

“Come back here!” an asshole hollers.

I make it to the front door and yank it open. My feet hit the cold cement of the porch, and I fly down the stairs.

The blanket flutters around me like a cape as I hightail it over the yard and down the street.

I hear a bang, but nothing happens. Still, I push myself to run faster than I ever have, letting go of the blanket and only thinking about survival.

I have no idea whether the men are coming after me or letting me go.

My eyes dart wildly around me for a place where I can find safety. I don’t bother with the houses because no one will open up. In neighborhoods like this, it’s everyone for themselves.

I make it to a crossing, and not caring that cars are on the road, I dart across to the other side, reaching a business area.

Suddenly, the van swerves in front of me, coming to a standstill half parked on the sidewalk.

I change direction to run around the vehicle, but one of the men jumps out the driver’s side and grabs hold of my neck. I’m yanked to the side and slammed hard into the van.

Pain dazes me, and before I can recover, there’s a punch to my ear, disorientating me completely.

As I begin to sink to the floor, the guy hauls me over his shoulder. I hear a door slide open, then I’m thrown onto the steel floor.

Letting out a groan, my head feels like it’s going to split open.

My vision is blurry and sounds come and go before I lose consciousness.