Page 114 of Wicked Duty
If I want to have any hope of escaping, I’ll need to know my way around, so I do what I can to memorize the layout of this overpriced, gawdy hellhole.
Anything to stop me from spiraling.
I called Callum earlier, and if he clued in to the conversation I wanted him to hear, he’ll have already informed Nika and Darren. I don’t expect him to attempt to rescue me himself. There’s nothing in it for him.
Even when my life hangs from a thread, coiled around Marco Benetti’s well-manicured fingers, my heart still aches from that loss.
Ahead of us in this long, winding hallway, another guard stands directly in front of a door. When he sees us coming, he steps aside, and Marco types a code into a keypad.
An empty bedroom waits on the other side. Hardwood floors. Cream walls. A crying, trembling Heather Kinkaid sits on the floor, wrists bound behind her back, her clothes disheveled, and her blond hair in a tangled mess.
My pulse lurches at the sight of her, relief blooming in my chest.
Though clearly terrified, she seems okay.
More tears drip down her face the second she recognizes me. My legs twitch with the urge to rush toward her, but I hold still. I need to play by Marco’s rules.
For now.
“Where you will sleep,bella.” He directs another insufferable smirk my way before shoving me into the room.
Before I can head for Heather, his goon grabs my wrists and yanks me close, zip-tying my hands behind my back.
“Oh, and this place is soundproof.” Marco examines his cuticles, clearly bored with us. “No one will hear you scream. If you care to test me, we have gags.For both of you.”
I wince as his guard tightens the hard plastic around my soft skin. Once he releases me, I face Marco again.
“Play nice, kittens.” He considers us both for a long while. “I’d hate to euthanize such pretty little creatures.”
Despite the ice skating down my back, I narrow my eyes. “Did Viktor approve that action? Last time we were together, he was a little…possessive. He doesn’t really like other people messing with his toys.”
Marco flinches the tiniest bit. Enough to confirm my suspicion that Viktor didn’t give him the greenlight to off me. That knowledge isn’t much of a win, but at least it’s something.
His expression darkens. “Maybe that’s true for you, but your little friend here…we could play with her all we wanted and force you to watch.”
He leers at Heather, who freezes like a doe staring down a rifle. I don’t even think she’s breathing.
And then the fiend is gone, locking us in our cage.
Heather sniffles as soon as we’re alone. “Lucy.”
“Hey, you.” Moisture prickles my eyes. “Look at me. It’s going to be okay.”
“You heard him.” Heather clenches her eyes shut, teardrops raining down her face. “He wants to kill me.”
“We won’t let him. We’re going to get out of here.”
Though I whisper as many reassurances as arrive on my tongue, I doubt I’m very convincing. My confidence drains rapidly.
Did Callum even take my call? Did he understand? I pray he overheard enough of our conversation to work out what was happening before Marco and his goons trashed my phone.
But what if he didn’t? Or worse, what if he’s decided I’m not worth the effort?
Now that he has the wallet, now that I’ve fired him, no compelling reason exists for him to come to my aid. He was probably dying to get rid of me right from the very start.
A helpless combination of desperation and fear, the kind I lived in every single day I spent in Viktor Roguilin’s captivity, swamps me.
A foolish, optimistic part of me still believes Callum Kavanagh might come for me. But if I’m wrong, by Tuesday, Heather Kincaid and I are as good as dead.
