Page 148 of Body and Soul

I gripped the steeringwheel, my knuckles white against the black leather. The SUV's engine hummed, a low growl that echoed my own simmering tension as we sped down the highway. The convoy stretched out behind us in the rearview mirror—a motley assortment of motorcycles, luxury sedans, and battered pickup trucks, all united in our grim purpose.

Eli sat in the passenger seat, his leg bouncing restlessly. He kept glancing over at me, his brow furrowed with worry. I wanted to reach out, to reassure him somehow, but the words stuck in my throat. What could I possibly say? We were driving headlong into the unknown, into a confrontation with a man who, by all accounts, was the devil himself.

In the backseat, Xander and Xavier were uncharacteristically quiet. They sat close together, shoulders brushing, as if drawing strength from each other's presence.

The sky outside was a leaden gray, heavy with the promise of snow. Skeletal trees flashed by, their bare branches clawing atthe clouds. It felt like we were driving through a wasteland, a no-man's-land where anything could happen.

My mind raced as I navigated the winding roads, trying to formulate some semblance of a plan. But the truth was, I had no idea what we were walking into. Algerone was a ghost, a phantom who had haunted the edges of our lives for years without ever showing his face. And now we were driving right into his den, offering up Xander and Xavier like lambs to the slaughter.

The road narrowed, hemmed in by signs of residential life in whatever small town we were about to pass through on our way to Cincinnati. I didn’t know exactly where Algerone was holed up down there, but I’d texted him to let him know we were on our way. I hoped that once we got closer, he’d roll out the welcome matt.

A red light glared at the intersection ahead, forcing me to ease off the accelerator. The SUV rolled to a stop. Suddenly, a black sedan whipped around the corner ahead and skidded to a halt mere inches from my front bumper. Another vehicle, a hulking SUV with tinted windows, careened in from the side street and slammed to a stop perpendicular to us, blocking the intersection. Doors flew open and men in black body armor poured out, swarming around our vehicle with choreographed precision.

“Shit,” I swore under my breath, adrenaline spiking through my veins.

Beside me, Eli tensed, his knuckles white as he gripped the door handle. “Feds?” he asked tightly.

My eyes darted over the men surrounding us, taking in every detail with razor-sharp focus. These weren't feds. Their movements were too fluid, too practiced. They wore no insignia, no badges.

“No,” I said grimly. “These are Algerone's men.”

Xander let out a low whistle. “Damn, Pops doesn't mess around, does he?”

I didn't have time to respond. The men were already in motion, yanking open car doors. Rough hands seized me, dragging me out of the driver's seat. I caught a glimpse of Eli being similarly manhandled, his face a mask of fury as he struggled against his captors.

“Let go of me, you fucking—” His snarl was cut off abruptly as a black hood was yanked over his head.

Panic clawed at my throat. I thrashed against the iron grips pinning my arms, desperate to get to Eli, to Xander and Xavier. But it was like fighting a tide. For every mercenary I managed to throw off, two more took their place. They moved with the precision of a well-oiled machine, their faces impassive as they wrestled us into submission.

In the chaos, I lost sight of the others.

My vision went dark as a hood was yanked roughly over my head, the coarse fabric scratching against my skin. I could hear Xander and Xavier's muffled curses and the scuffling of boots on pavement, but I was powerless to help them. Hands like iron vices clamped around my biceps, wrenching my arms behind my back. The bite of zip ties cut into my wrists.

I was shoved and prodded like an animal until the hard metal frame of a car door hit the backs of my knees. A palm on the crown of my head forced me down and in. I fell awkwardly across what felt like a bench seat, my shoulder slamming into the opposite door. The slam of the door I'd been shoved through was like a gunshot in the close confines.

The engine roared to life, and the vehicle lurched into motion. I strained my ears, trying to pick out any clues to where the others had been taken, but all I could hear was the blood pounding in my ears and the muffled voices of the mercenaries in the front seat, barking clipped orders into radios.

Time lost all meaning in the darkness of the hood. We could have driven for minutes or hours; I had no way to gauge the passage of time. My mind spun dizzying scenarios of what awaited us at our destination. Algerone's reputation painted him as a man who got what he wanted, no matter what.

The vehicle bounced and jostled as it navigated what felt like a winding, unpaved road, each rut and pothole jarring through my cramped muscles. The air inside the hood grew stale and humid with my own recycled breaths, the coarse fabric chafing against my skin with every jolt. I tried to keep track of the turns, to form some mental map of our journey, but it was impossible in the disorienting darkness.

After what could have been thirty minutes or three hours, the SUV rolled to a stop. The driver killed the engine, plunging us into an eerie silence broken only by the muffled rustling of the mercenaries climbing out. I tensed, heart pounding against my ribs as the door beside me was wrenched open. Rough hands seized my arms and dragged me out into the frigid air.

The crunch of gravel beneath my feet was the only clue to our whereabouts as I was marched forward, still hooded and bound. I strained my ears for any hint of the others' presence, any sign that Eli or Xander or Xavier were nearby, but heard nothing beyond the crunch of boots and the flapping of coattails in the wind.

A metallic clang rang out, like a heavy door slamming shut, and the ground beneath me changed from gravel to smooth, hard concrete. The echoes of our footsteps ricocheted off unseen walls, the acoustics telling me we had entered some narrow, low-ceilinged hallway, perhaps underground.

The air grew colder and damper as we descended, the chill seeping into my bones through the thin fabric of my shirt. The mercenaries' grips on my arms never faltered, their pace briskand purposeful as they led me through the twisting bowels of whatever godforsaken place this was.

The hood muffled all sound, leaving me in a world of eerie, echoing footfalls and my own labored breathing. Occasionally, the scrape of a boot or the rustle of clothing would pierce the unnatural quiet, tantalizingly close yet maddeningly indistinct. Were the others here, suffering the same disorienting march into the unknown? The thought turned my stomach.

Time stretched and warped, measured only by the burn in my legs and the pounding of my pulse in my ears. Just when I thought I could bear the uncertainty no longer, we lurched to an abrupt halt.

Keys jangled and a heavy bolt scraped back. Hinges screamed in protest as a door was heaved open, the sound ringing through the passage like a gunshot. My captors hauled me forward, their fingers digging into my biceps with bruising force.

Six steps, then they spun me roughly and shoved me down into a hard metal chair before slicing through the zip ties binding me to free my arms. I tensed, waiting for more restraints, but none came. Apparently, they were confident enough in their control over me not to bother.

The hood was yanked off my head without warning, the sudden influx of light searing my retinas. I blinked rapidly, squinting against the painful brightness as my eyes struggled to adjust.

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