Page 9 of Married into the Mob
The bad was that I’d been kidnapped by asshat two. Hunter. The name was fitting, because though he rescued me from Draven, he was keeping me prisoner in his car and tearing through the streets pretending he was an F1 driver.
My inclination was to ask him where we were going, but instinct told me I either wouldn’t get an answer or he’d drone on about that being on a need-to-know basis. Best if I stayed quiet, studied him, and kept an eye on my changing location.
We were in the midst of the business district, and as I scanned the streets, the crowds thinned. I almost panicked, thinking he was taking me out of the city and into the countryside.
But the car headed into the nightclub area which was quiet in the middle of the day. I’d been in this area once, to pick up my college roommate, Anton, after he worked the night shift. Aunt Louisa still kept in contact with him, more than I did.
My heart was hammering so hard my chest hurt, and I made an effort to slow my breathing. In and out. In and out. Slow and easy. If I hyperventilated, I couldn’t make a run for it.
Focus, Odell.
I side-eyed Hunter. Like Draven, he wore a powerful cologne that clashed with the new-leather fragrance from the seats. But unlike the guy I was supposed to marry, Hunter’s aftershave wasn’t harsh and putrid with more than a hint of terror. His auburn-tipped hair was coiffed perfectly, and those intense green eyes gave the impression he could see right through me.
Oh gods, bile slid up my throat, and I willed it down. I’d survived this far, and Hunter might freak if I messed up his expensive car.
Scanning the buildings on either side of the street, I noted the clubs were in darkness, giving the area an ominous feel. Not surprising, as it was morning. I gripped the edge of the leather seat when he screeched to a halt outside an imposing black building.
But we were at what I assumed was the back entrance because there were no neon lights and signage, and the club name was in small letters on the wall. La Luna Noir. Oh mygods, Anton had pointed out this place, though it had been modernized since that early-morning visit I’d made. He’d said it was owned by the most powerful mafia organization in the state. The name was grammatically incorrect, and it grated on me.
Bringing me here suggested Draven had sold my debt to Hunter. My head was fuzzy on how that had happened between City Hall and here, but my thoughts were entangled with fear, loathing, and shock, so what did I know? Perhaps the mafia had an app for their indentured labor. But I refused to allow my mind to go there.
Hunter killed the engine, and I gripped the door handle. The moment he unlocked it, I’d take off. There was no one around, so calling for help was pointless.
“Don’t think about running. You’re safer with me than on the street with no protection.”
“Says you,” I shot back.
He got out, and I fumbled at the door, but it wouldn’t unlock. He opened it from the outside and took hold of me. Despite wanting to spit in his face, heat radiated from his fingers with the manicured nails, and spread over my flesh. My hands tingled but my belly had settled, which was something, I supposed.
While Draven had evoked fear in me, Hunter was… he was… My emotions were so tangled I couldn’t come up with a word. He wasn’t a good guy, but I’d guess he wasn’t as cruel as Draven.
I told my body it was a traitor as I got out, the cool air, layered with pollution, hitting my face. My legs betrayed me and I stumbled, but my kidnapper caught me. My mind was frazzled, fried to a crisp, and I couldn’t fathom how he’d reacted so quickly.
“Let me go. I’m not your property.” Technically I probably was, as Draven may have sold me. I was likely an indentured servant.
“No time for talking.” His fingers dug into my skin as he dragged me toward the wall where I picked up the faint outline of a door.
He pressed his finger on a device stuck to the cladding before leaning in. It appeared to be scanning his retina. Yikes, with this amount of security, I might never leave the building until I was carried out feet first.
The place was in darkness apart from dim security lighting. I blinked, trying to adjust my eyes and memorizing how to escape.
Hauling me down stairs, he banged my knee on the railing, and I stifled a groan, refusing to acknowledge he’d caused me pain. My chest was heaving as I tamped down my anxiety and tried to get enough air in my lungs.
We passed a large storage area, and if Hunter locked me in a teeny-tiny room, I’d gladly marry that oaf, Draven, in return for fresh air.
The monster was claiming me. Not Hunter, not Draven, but the one that crawled over me when I was in a small space and couldn’t get out.
I tugged at my hand, but his grip was vise-like. Clutching my throat with the other hand, I gasped, “I’m claustrophobic.”
He paused and swung around. “I wish I’d known that. Maybe this isn’t the best place to keep you.”
There was so much wrong with that sentence, but the anxiety continued to claw at me.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Next time, send a warning when you’re going to kidnap me and I’ll provide a list of my phobias, food intolerances, and allergies.”
His face softened. “You can tell me and I’ll get you suitable food.”
I didn’t have any. I’d been snarky and trying to make a point. “It’s not important.” One positive was that my anger was overpowering my panic.
