Chapter 323

There is another movement of the handle, twisting my wrist to an almost snapping point as I struggle to hold it, then nothing for a moment. I stand listening, waiting, pressing myself firmly against it and wait. Trying to figure out if he has decided it’s locked and is moving on away from me. Too tense to hope for that and just poised and still in a horrible long tense second that seems to last forever.

It happens so fast I’m not prepared, the sudden human weight whack as he shoulders the door viciously that shocks through my body and catapults it. Sending me flying with a squeal, across the dirty, shrapnel strewn floor in a chaotic throw. My shoe catching on a little step and I’m flung on my knees painfully into the dim light of this derelict prison. Scraping with dramatic aplomb across the rough concrete with grazing pain as I skid to a dirty halt amid a cloud of thick, dry dust.

“Well, well. There you are. Sneaky little bitch.” The cruel, deep voice of my predator, and as I struggle to get up, cutting my palms on ragged debris and broken glass, he yanks me from behind by the hair and pulls me forcefully up against him. Dragged to kneeling and flailing limbs like a puppet who just had their strings cut. My hands fly to my hair to grab onto the way he’s ripping my roots to shreds. A sharp, effective pain to gain control.

It’s a million triggers in one.

Taken from behind, a man breathing down my neck and igniting all my cringe and hysteria impulses; held captive and already high on the fumes of terror and fear knowing this man is here to harm me. I start fighting back uncontrollably with slaps and kicks as I clamber to my feet, clawing nails at whatever I can reach. Blinded by memory and the will to survive. Screaming my loudest at him so my hero, who I know is coming, can hear me.

His hand crushes over my mouth to silence me, an arm around my ribs as I throw my body weight backwards into him to knock him off balance, but it’s futile. He’s crazily strong for a short fat creep.

He clings to me, tightening his hold on my ribs, pressing me with enough force to crack a few and winding me in the process. He is trying to reduce my fight and oxygen and claws his fingers into my face as he smothers me. Biting pain and bruising grasp to disarm me and induce submission.

Except, I’m not anyone’s docile little victim. I’m Alexi’s little hellcat and I won’t go quietly.

My hands are free, and I use my phone to aim backward slaps at his face and head, knowing it would serve more worth than my tiny soft hands. It’s my only weapon right now and I will use it to both hurt him and let Alexi know they have caught me if he puts it back to his ear. I whack at what I can before losing my grip and it’s sent sliding off mid-air and crashes to the floor.

He is my only hope in getting out of this alive.

My other hand finds his cheek and I use my nails to grab hard and dig into the flesh I manage to cup there. Piercing into softness and digging with all my might. There’s an angry roar as acrylics connect fully and he cruelly yanks my face sideways, pushing my body by letting me go with the arm around my waist. I’m spun towards him and he delivers a brutal slap right across my left cheekbone and eye socket, encompassing a vast area with one sharp smack. It knocks me momentarily senseless. That burning, spiky pain that instantly spreads to make you feel like half your skull just exploded and rattles your brain inside its chamber.

It’s a blunt, hard thwack that immediately turns to pulsing swelling flesh as my body follows the curve of my knock and I crumble in a heap on the ground to the side of him. Dazed and my vision blurs a little. Once again being stabbed all over my lower body by the crap and broken shit all over this dirty floor.

I can take a punch or two, I know that much, and I try to shake it off as I scramble to get to my knees once more. Hand sliding over my leg, then ankle and grabbing my shoe as I do so. My wits about me, even if they are a little detached with the force of that knock.

Stilettos are not just a choice because they are sexy, I don’t just buy cheap shoes either, with no real strength to the heels. I buy solid expensive and sleek footwear that has enough heel strength to use as a weapon should I ever need it. I learned the value in a good shoe a long time ago.

With pointy toe in hand and him coming at me again I go for his leg and stab him as hard as I can in his inner thigh. Throwing my weight behind it and cupping my shoe so the heel is gaining strength from the palm of my hand. A thrusting motion with intent. It’s a satisfying slug into flesh and I know it pierces him as it disappears into a fat thigh.

Another growl and roar that makes my blood curdle as he yells out in pain and blood instantly spreads around the embedded weapon. He throws another swing at my face, less coordinated but this time I duck, and he catches my hair in his flailing fingers instead.

Getting a tight grip of me, he yanks me back to my feet, pulls me level with him and grasps my shoe-wielding hand so tightly he crushes my wrist bone with the ferocity of his anger. He is trying to stop me pushing it in further than it already is, but I won’t relent at all.

“You little fucking bitch. We are going to take our time with you and make you suffer for days for that. I will rip your fucking pussy to shreds and enjoy every minute.” It’s a snarl in the shadows and I’m half blinded by the bright light flooding in through the open door behind him, unable to see him properly. Eyes blink at the sudden assault and a blur of dark and light confuses me, so I have no clue what is going on.

He twists my wrist painfully, causing me to release the shoe finally and its clatters to the ground with an anticlimactic little noise as it slides from his gaping wound. My only hope of fighting a man this size. He overpowers me cruelly and all I can do is grasp at his legs to stop myself crying out with the pain he’s inflicting. He is going for a broken bone.

Something shadowy catches my eye across his shoulder as I ponder my fate and try to figure out how else to get loose, but I don’t have the vision to see what it is. Still adjusting to him opening the door and flooding us with sunlight.

It’s the end of the road now. I’m fucked.

A whoosh of air, a sudden release that hauls him back and pushes me away, so I’m dropped on my arse in the dirt, blinking stupendously. I can only just make out a dark, strong form of someone tall and muscular, all in black, positioning himself between us in lighting speed and delivers a swift, calculated punch to the throat of my assailant. One single, quick blow right at his Adam's apple.

It’s all a whir of mere seconds, as though I’m in slow motion and the world is speeding around me. My vision blurry with tears and my left eye is burning so bad it’s streaming. All I can see as I try to acclimatise is the fluid form of a trained fighter, a silent deadly movement and intimidating presence.

My attacker gasps weirdly, gurgles and then drops to his knees clutching at his throat dramatically; my eyes widen as my vision clears fully on what I can see from my huddled position. I realise the form standing off centre between us is very familiar and all my fear trickles away as though a warm wave just washed over me from my scalp to my toes. Relief rushes to my every pore in a huge blanket of complete heat and exhaustion. Body sinking with the instant release, knowing I’m safe.

Alexi turns to me after he watches the man sprawl out across the ground, looking cold and terrifying. Much like he did the night he snapped that man’s neck in the club. No emotion at all; just uses his foot to push his victim away, like discarded trash, as he takes his last gargling attempt to breathe and completely stills in an undignified heap. Alexi seems unaffected by the gruesome scene, while I look away and try not to react to something as horrifying as someone suffocating to death. Hating my attacker yet appalled by how awful that kind of end is. It will leave a mark on me, watching someone helplessly struggle for breath that way.

Alexi crushed his airway, one single punch in the right part of a man’s throat and boom … dead. A very effective and stealth way to kill someone and obviously a trained move. Alexi is a man who uses his hands more than weapons and I stare numbly at the scene before me. I feel like this is a dream and I’m no longer here, adrenaline coursing through me and yet it leaves me utterly exhausted. I suddenly just want to lie down and pass out.

“Get up. We need to move. I have to find the other one.” There’s no warmth or concern in that low, deadly tone. A detached iciness and the way he hauls me up by my arm and grabs my shoe for me, tells me he is not in ‘lover Alexi’ frame of mind. It’s like I’m a naughty child being pulled up by a parent for tantruming. Manhandling me aggressively. He is switched off, closed down and in full ‘don’t fuck with me’ mode. Alexi the Mafia boss still enraged at me and all up in assassin head as he sorts out my mess.

He waits for a second as I slide it on, limbs shaking and doing my best to compose myself quickly while getting no reassurance from him at all. He pulls me into the light to do a scan of my face and body with serious narrowed eyes and no hint of warmth, no hint of anything at all in fact, in those soulless eyes before he pulls me out with him into the alley again. He frowned, that was about it, but I don’t doubt he is committing the mess of me to memory to take out on kidnapper number two when they catch him. Alexi isn’t one to forget.

Out here my eyes are drawn to the number of black suits moving fast in and out of the crevices of the streets between abandoned four by fours. I recognise all as Carrero vehicles. There are two of his cousins out here that work security on the doors and Alexi nods to them and then back inside the building silently. They obediently nod a quiet communication and duck past us inside. I know what that means.

Clean-up crew. They are here to assist him and then take care of the mess left behind. Like it never happened. They will prop up the body, remove it and deposit it however men in the Mafia do.

Alexi doesn’t say anything to me at all. No words of comfort, no hug like that night in the club. Just pulls me at a fast pace out of the alley so I struggle to keep up on tender feet and bruised limbs, holding firmly at the very top of my arm and doesn’t look at me again. It’s a biting grip and a hint he has no faith in me not to run away from him right now. He is back to hard, cruel and pissed and I should keep quiet if I have any sense.

I can sense the waves of anger coming off him in droves and it just changes my anxious, fear-addled mood to one of emotional angst instead.

We get out into the next part of the alleyway and I can see a dozen more Carrero men combing every corner here. I have no doubts he has a shit ton more of them searching every single street until they find the second man. Alexi will want one alive to interrogate and finally find the source of whoever is behind this. I know he will make it a personal chore to extract the intel.

We keep walking until we get back to the main road and I blink at the row of black four by fours that line the pavement for as far as I can see. I guess they came in droves at his command and that one black sedan is still sitting half on the kerb where they left it. Meaning that one man is still here somewhere and running for his life if he has any sense. Now he is the one chased down like a rabbit and hiding in one of the derelict buildings.

I hope he feels the same terror I did.

Alexi will completely fuck him up for this.

Alexi marches me to the nearest vehicle, still almost dragging me on my feet with his fast steps and no-nonsense aura. Still won’t look at me and still no verbal from him. He opens the back door, almost pushing me into the back seat harshly, making it clear he’s madder than hell, before leaning in over my legs so he can look at the driver. A snarling sort of psycho look.

“Take her to my apartment. Stay there with her until I come. I’m sending the B team with you as extra security. If she tries to get out. Chain her to the fucking car.” Alexi barks his order and the young man nods seriously. Eyes steadfast and not once looking my way for fear of his commander.

“Yes, boss.” That nervous agreement of a man who knows his boss is in no mood for any other answer. My heart sinks and I just stare at Alexi’s face as he turns to me. Praying for signs of softer or less hostile in him. Colourless eyes are almost black right now and that normally handsome bad boy look is a full-on sadistic devil. I swallow loudly and still my shaking hands by clasping them in my lap.

Alexi pulls back out and only stops to focus his attention on me for a second, to yank my seat belt across me and leans in to clip it on briskly. Almost snapping it off in the fastener, he does it so harshly.

“You will stay put. Do not fucking leave that apartment, under any circumstance. No arguments, no answering back and no fucking complaint. You will obey me or suffer the consequences. Do you understand me?” Harsh, angry and biting. A throwback to the Carrero I used to cower before. It gives me an instant emotional lump in my throat, tears welling up and I swallow hard again, nodding feebly.

“Yes,” I whisper it timidly. Knowing he is beyond raging at me and now is not really the time to try and talk to him. He closes the door sharply, swings it with a slam and bangs on the roof to signal the driver should go with more force than necessary.

As soon as the driver turns on the engine, the car in front starts up and moves first. As we drive away, I realise there is another at our rear all driving in convoy. Alexi disappears back into the building he found me in and doesn’t even watch us leave. That walk of a predator in hunting mode and I know he won’t be following me until he has his prey and devours the son of a bitch.

This is my security and we are being sent somewhere I have never been to get put under house arrest in the meantime, and probably indefinitely. I guess walking out of the club means he doesn’t trust me to go back there and so close to a man they are searching for.

I sigh heavily, close my hands and wring my fingers crazily. Realising that my phone is still in that building where I dropped it and I won’t get a warning when he is coming or have a way to even contact him about it.

I feel beyond sick. Shock taking over where adrenaline is wearing off, and I just have a huge need to cry suddenly. Overwhelming waves of intense emotion I cannot curb at all, and I lean forward burying my face in my bloody hands, scratched, aching and rough to let it all out.

A blubbering mess of sobs and hysterics now that I’m safe, and everything caves in on me heavily.