Page 73 of Unloaded
“Where are we going?” I ask, to which I receive a death glare in return.
“You’ve asked that one hundred times already,” Vinnie sneers at me. “Are you stupid or something?” I close my eyes as another wave of pain shoots through my head.
“I think my head is going to split open,” I say in my whiniest voice. Bile rises in the back of my throat. “I’m going to be sick.”
“Again?” The word barely leaves his mouth before I’m losing what little stomach contents I have left onto the floor of the backseat.
“God dammit!” Vinnie complains.
The double vision, confusion, dizziness, and nausea are getting worse, and being in a moving vehicle isn’t helping. I don’t have to fake the dry heaves racking my body.
“Please, I need to see a doctor,” I plead, once the worst of the nausea has passed. Vinnie opens his mouth to argue with me, but I continue, “Something is wrong in here.” I touch the side of my head. It’s going to take more than trying to appeal to his good nature from the look on his face.
“What will Nicolai say if I die before you get me to him?” Vinnie’s mouth pinches into a deep frown as he ponders my question.
“You’re more trouble than your worth in my opinion,” Vinnie grumbles, pulling out his phone. He looks reluctant to make the call, but when I dry heave a couple more times, he places the call.
“What is it?” a deep male voice comes over the car speakers. Vinnie’s phone is Bluetoothed to the car. “You wouldn’t be calling unless there was a problem.”
“My apologies, boss,” Vinnie says contritely. “We’re near Richmond and should reach D.C. in another hour, but we have a problem.”
“Which is?” Nicolai sounds annoyed or maybe bored with this conversation.
“The woman was injured when we intercepted her,” Vinnie says. “I don’t think it’s serious, but I’m not a doctor.”
“What happened? What’s wrong with her?” Nicolai’s tone has changed from bored to one of concern.Is he really concerned about me?
“She hit her head in the crash. She’s a little out of it, and she’s been vomiting, complaining of a headache, and blurred vision,” Vinnie informs him. “What do you want me to do?” There’s a distinct pinging sound coming over the line.
“A crash? What crash? What did you do?” Nicolai demands angrily.Why would he care how Vinnie abducted me?
“She was tailing Vena and her brothers,” Vinnie answers, trepidation in his tone. “Lawrence and I forced her to stop so I could get her.”
“You incompetent piece of shit!” Nicolai bellows loudly. “I told you to take custody of her, not put her life in danger. I told you she’s to be unharmed.”
“I…I’m sorry, boss,” Vinnie stammers, sounding terrified. “You’re right. I wasn’t thinking. I was just trying to get her in my possession. Should I bring her to you? Or should I take to her the nearest hospital? I can call Arnold and have him direct me to the closest facility in our control.” Another ping sounds followed by a muttered curse.
“Bring her to me,” Nicolai demands. “I’ll have a physician on standby. I have to go. Something has come up. Call me if you run into problems.”
“Yes, sir,” Vinnie replies as the line goes dead.
Vinnie’s jaw is audibly clicking he’s gritting his teeth so tightly. His fingers are flying over his phone typing out messages, one after another. I want to ask questions, but I keep my mouth shut instead. The tension coming off Vinnie is palpable. I’m not going to push him over the edge of what little control he has managed to maintain. He might get pissed enough to no longer care what his boss wants as long as I’m not an irritation to him anymore.
After several tense minutes, he leans forward. “Get us to Nicolai’s penthouse in D.C. asap. I’ve notified our contacts, so we shouldn’t have any issues with the police.”
“Nicolai is in D.C.?” I ask, no longer able to hold my tongue. Vinnie turns his scathing gaze on me. I shrink away from him, preparing for a fist that never comes.
“Yes,” he growls out. “Now don’t ask any more questions.” I nod and lay my head back on the headrest to pray.Please let Rosco find the twins.
I wake when the car slows. My head is still pounding, and it takes a few slow blinks to get my vision to clear enough to see what’s happening around me. We must be nearing D.C. The traffic is bumper to bumper, cars weaving in and out with mere inches to spare. Our driver navigates expertly between the many lanes of traffic.
A few minutes later, we’re pulling into an underground parking garage that has an armed guard at the gate. The driver lowers the window and the guard peers into the car, clocking me and Vinnie in the back.
“Go ahead,” the man says. “Boss is expecting you.” We pull into the dimly lit garage, and the loss of sun eases my pain a fraction. We pull into an open spot near an elevator.
“Don’t give me any trouble,” Vinnie growls when he opens my door and drags me out of the back seat. I should fight. I should try to escape, but my pounding head, dizziness, and nausea make any attempt futile and would only result in more pain. I’ll just have to pray I have an opportunity when I’m in a better physical condition.
We enter the elevator. Vinnie swipes a card, then presses the button next to PH. My stomach drops and loses its contents all over the elevator floor when the elevator shoots upward.
