Page 126 of Working for the Mob

“Are you going to get me out or just stand there?” Lucy asked in a shrill voice.

I began pulling at the ropes coiled around her hands, as Lem continued to shout and bang at the door.

“Hurry!” Lucy pleaded. “We don’t have much time.”

The knots were tied tightly, forcing me to pull at them with all my strength.

“I’m coming in!” Lem shouted, and the loudest bump yet shook the door and the lightbulb above our heads swayed back and forth.

I remembered the frozen eyes of Valuncia and the cold steel of the razor on my cheek. I wasn’t going to let myself be caught again.

I dug my nails into the twine of the rope and pulled. I gasped as my fingernails separated from the nail bed, but I kept pulling.

I yelped in glee once the first knot came undone, and furiously ripped at the rest of the ropes until I had Lucy’s hands free.

“What are we going to do now?” Lucy wasted no time asking.

I didn’t know. Think! Think! The door began to splinter as blows rained on it from the outside.

My eyes shot to the chairs, the drapes, and the window.

“How are you with heights?”

Chapter 39 – Art

The loading deck of the Valuncias’ brick warehouse loomed above us in the bitter cold night. Genevieve was somewhere in there, probably scared and anxious. Wondering how the hell she ended up as a Valuncia captive, and probably blaming me.

Lance, Henry, Officer Brighton, and I waited in the road in front of their house, with our backs to the two cars we came in. The streetlamp above only illuminated the loading dock and our cars, leaving everything else in darkness.

On the other side of the car, across the road, stood an old factory. I hoped that we were at the correct building.

Regret stole over me and I tightened my bound hands into balls; this might be the last time I ever saw the starry sky and I hated that the inside of a Valuncia factory could be the last thing I saw.

Just twelve hours ago, I was standing on Genevieve’s front deck, trying to prevent a situation just like this.

The thought of turning back never crossed my mind. Trading my life for Genevieve’s seemed as automatic as breathing. Hopefully, I would get to see her one last time. If we both lived through this, I swore I was never going to let her out of my sight again.

“Should we knock?” I asked the group.

Lance and Henry flanked my left while Officer Brighton stood to my right. I still wasn’t sure how the officer would hold up in a fire fight, but we didn’t have any other choices at this point.

“I just think if we were going to knock, it should be someone else,” I said, when no one answered. “Since my hands are tied.”

Honestly, I just couldn’t bring myself to walk up the stairs and knock. It felt like sealing my own fate.

“I’ll do it,” Henry said, but before he made it to the stairs to the loading deck, the front doors creaked open.

I ground my teeth as Lawrence Valuncia, a bull of a man with blonde hair and blue eyes, paraded onto the front porch. Three Valuncia goons flanked each side, each one uglier than next. We were outnumbered. At least that’s what they thought.

“Let’s get this over with,” Valuncia said, in a gravelly voice. “What’d you decide, Necci?”

Hatred expanded in my chest. If I had my revolver, this man would be on the floor with a bullet in his chest.

“I’m turning myself in, Valuncia.” Valuncia’s cold gaze fell on me and I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Where are the girls?”

“Art Necci,” he said as a greeting. “Come on up here out of the cold.”

“Show us the girls and I’ll …” I paused. This would mess up the plan. And even though I’d make this decision one hundred times again, it still wasn’t easy. “I’ll come up.”

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