Page 36 of Captivated with Them

He lunged, his huge weight punching me in the back, throwing me forward. I landed heavily on the hard floor, my chin cracking against concrete. His fist slammed into the side of my head, my ear ringing. Dizziness threatened to take over, but this was my one chance, and I had to fight it. The gun was a matter of only a couple of feet away, and I stretched out my arm, scrabbling for it. But Meathead was doing the same, and he crawled up my body, crushing me beneath him. Fucking shitbag.

His head was right above mine now, his fingers almost reaching the gun.

With everything I had, I lowered my chin back down to the floor then threw my head back. The rear of my skull connected with his nose, the crack like a gunshot in the small space.

Meathead let out a howl of rage and pain, but his weight fell off me as he tumbled to the side. I didn’t hesitate. Scrambling to my hands and knees, I threw myself at the gun, my fingers closing around the handle. The metal was still warm from Meathead’s skin. I threw myself around, facing him, pointing the barrel in his direction. He was holding his hands to his face, trying to stem the huge quantity of blood pouring from his nose and dripping between his fingers.

“You broke my fucking nose, you asshole,” he spat, though his words were muffled by both his hands and the blood.

I clambered to my feet, keeping the gun trained on him. “I should shoot you in the head right now.”

He glared at me. “Do it, then.”

“I’m sure you don’t want that. I’ll let you live, but you need to tell me how many people are upstairs.”

He gave a snort of laughter, which sounded like someone dying of a cold. “Over a hundred. The restaurant is full.”

Fuck.

It would have been easier if it was the middle of the night and the place was empty, and I could have just slipped out without being noticed, but it looked like it wasn’t going to be my day.

He must have seen my expression. “You’re a fool if you think you’re going to get out of here in one piece. You’ll be the one who ends up with a bullet in the back of his head.”

“That’s fine. If I’m dead, they won’t be able to use me to control anyone. I’d rather that than be stuck down here and used as the Capellos’ stick to beat my friends with.”

“That’s sweet, but you won’t have an opinion on anything when you’re dead.”

I’d had enough of talking to him. I needed to get out of there.

Keeping the gun pointed in his direction, I headed for the door. A quick check outside told me that there was no one else in the cellar, but that didn’t mean things would stay that way. If the restaurant was open, one of the staff could come down here at any moment to grab more supplies.

I stepped out into the cellar and then reached to pull the door shut behind me.

Realizing what I was doing, Meathead sprang into action. “Hey! Wait! Don’t you fucking—”

But I dragged the door shut, cutting off his words. I had been right when I’d thought the place was soundproofed. I slammed each of the bolts into position, locking him in there, just as he’d done to me, many times over. Even if I didn’t make it out of here, there was a definite satisfaction in getting some payback.

Moving lightly on my feet, I crossed the cellar to the stairs leading up to the first floor. The door at the top was shut, and I hoped it wasn’t locked. I should have thought to check with Meathead before I’d shut him in. I didn’t like the idea of having to open the small room back up and demand for him to hand over a set of keys. I hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

I took the stairs two at a time and came to a halt at the door. I pressed my ear to the wood, trying to get an idea if I would come face to face with someone on the other side. The restaurant would be full of people—not only customers, but also staff, from the waiters and waitresses, to kitchen hands and busboys. Even though these people were tied to the Capellos, I felt sure the majority had no idea just how dangerous the men were that they worked for. The last thing I wanted was for innocent people to get caught up in this mess.

I tried the handle and exhaled a sigh of relief when it turned. With the gun held close to my body, I edged open the door and peered out. The corridor beyond was miraculously empty, but from not far away came the steady hum of lots of voices in one place, together with the crash and bang of a professional kitchen.

Slipping into the corridor, I kept my head down and kept going. I didn’t want to get noticed, and I was bound to get questioned if someone saw me back here. I couldn’t imagine what I looked like after several nights locked up in the cellar. It wasn’t as though I’d been given any opportunity to wash up, and the blood from my head injury was most likely still crusted in my hairline and down the side of my face. I sported a good week’s worth of beard growth as well, and felt sure I’d lost weight, my features most likely sharp. Combining those things, together with the gun at my side, screamed that I was trouble.

I passed a doorway and paused. The door stood open a couple of inches, and I caught a glimpse of the interior. It was a staff room, and on metal shelving lining the walls were laundered and folded tablecloths, napkins, aprons, and kitchen hats. Acting quickly, I stepped inside and grabbed one of the aprons and a checkered chef’s skull cap to cover my hair. I tied the apron around my waist and jammed the hat onto my hair, and then stepped back out into the corridor.

The sounds of the kitchen grew louder. A set of double doors blocked the end of the corridor, but twin glass windows in the top halves of each door gave me a view into the busy kitchen beyond. Was that a door on the far side of the kitchen? It was hard to tell, but it looked as though it opened onto the outside world. My pulse raced at the promise of freedom. It was so close, I could almost taste it. It seemed I had no choice but to pass through the restaurant kitchen if I was going to get out of here.

The doors suddenly flew open, and I stepped back. Two men hustled through, shoulder to shoulder, talking loudly to one another. They were both dressed the same way I was now, in an apron and with their hair covered, and barely gave me a second glance.

Sucking in a breath, I kept my head down and pushed my way into the kitchen, making a beeline for the external door.

I braced myself, waiting for someone to shout and demand to know who I was and what I was doing. But the kitchen was insanely busy. Steam rose from pots cooking on the stove. People called instructions to one another. Plates crashed, and knives chopped. Everyone seemed to be in a rush, and no one paid the slightest bit of attention to me.

The door at the rear of the kitchen opened onto an alley behind, and I stepped out, the cool air hitting my face. The sudden sense of freedom was palpable, my breath tight in my lungs. To my right were a couple of industrial sized dumpsters, bags of trash sitting beside them where someone hadn’t bothered to open the lid and throw them inside. Several plastic chairs had been set nearby for workers to sit on if they wanted to take their breaks out here.

One of the seats was currently occupied by a staff member taking a smoke break. He clocked me exiting the building and walking away. His shout chased after me.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“Tell the boss I quit!” I called in return.

I didn’t turn around but kept my gaze fixed on a spot ahead of me. I just needed to put distance between myself and this place. I managed to keep to a fast walk rather than breaking into a run, but I was expecting the Capellos or some of their guys to come chasing after me, but nothing happened. I reached the end of the alleyway and turned right, heading in the opposite direction from the restaurant. I was breathing hard and fast, my heart still racing, the gun clutched against my body. I could hardly believe I’d managed to walk out of there.

I turned another corner and yanked the cap off my head then pulled off the apron. I threw them both away.

What the fuck was I going to do now? I hadn’t given much thought to what I would do after I’d actually escaped. My instinct told me to go to the apartment, but my head told me otherwise. The Capellos would most likely have someone watching the place, and I had no intention of walking right back into their hands. I wanted to find Rue as well, but again, I knew wherever she was, she’d be well guarded.

I’d had a bit of luck when I’d been able to walk out of the restaurant, but I didn’t know how long that luck would last.

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