Page 110 of Take the Sub and Run

Her father stood, placing his hand on her shoulder. “I must go, Daughter.”

As much as she wanted him gone, she was terrified for him to go. “You’re leaving me like this? I can’t walk, I can’t…” She was breathing too fast, but she couldn't seem to make herself slow down. "It hurts so much."

"I will send one of them back tonight with perhaps a wheelchair for you and something to help you with the pain. But remember, pain and suffering—they teach us. They help us reach a spiritual place."

He bent over and kissed her head, patting her shoulder once before turning to make his slow way to the door.

Sofie let the pencil fall from nerveless fingers and watched it roll across the floor.

“Who moved the car into the barn?” Taller Asshole asked as they strode across what had once been a farmyard toward the small outbuilding. The morning sun was cheerful, the sky a brilliant blue. Not exactly murdering weather, but Andrei made do.

“That idiot Elio must have. Where is he?”

Dead in the car.

Andrei followed them at a safe distance, having confirmed with Elio before snapping his neck that there were three men and Father Noah Visser here.

And that they had the father’s pretty blonde daughter locked in a studio on the third floor.

Andrei gave up on the translator app, tucking his phone back into his pocket as Shorter Asshole opened the door into a small shed, exhaust billowing out. It was a small space, and the running car was wedged in there—he’d broken off one of the mirrors getting it in.

Both men reeled back, coughing. Though he no longer knew what they were saying, Andrei could guess.

What the fuck is this? Why is the car on? What is he doing?

They’d never get answers.

Andrei shoved both men hard against the boot of the car, then slammed the shed door closed. He had to shove, given that their legs were now pinned between the door and the bumper. There were screams of pain as he dug in his heels and refused to let the door move even an inch. Grabbing the shovel handle he’d found for explicitly this purpose, he wedged the door closed using a crack in the cobblestone farmyard.

Once he was sure it was secure, he stepped back, watching the heavy wood door—they just didn’t make things this way anymore—shudder with their futile attempts to escape.

Andrei made a quick circuit of the shed. He'd already used spare rags to close up cracks in the old stone to make sure all the exhaust fumes were trapped inside.

He kept watch as the men thrashed and shouted. Soon the shouts turned to coughs. He wouldn't wait here until they died—he was burning with the need to find Sofie, and all that coughing would have weakened them enough that at this point, he had full faith in the shovel handle keeping them inside.

Andrei turned, shocked to see another figure standing halfway between the house and the shed.

Sofie’s father.

He wore the collar and cassock of his office, both hands braced on the round head of a heavy cane.

They regarded one another for long moments.

“You’re the man she loves,” Father Noah Visser said after a moment.

That surprised him more than the other man's presence.

Noah smiled. “You look surprised. She didn't tell you.”

“She never had the chance because you locked her up here the same way you locked her in that house in Amsterdam.”

“Here, yes, there are locks.”

“You made sure she never had a chance.”

“I made sure her life had meaning.”

“Yours won't. They'll never find your body.” Andrei smiled. "And if they do, I'll make sure evidence of every scandal you have and haven't participated in comes to light. They won't make you a martyr or a saint. They'll strike your name from the books and pretend you never were.”

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