Stace
I glance down the hallway toward our original room. Silence. The men are still down there. I just went and checked as Rosh slept. Waiting men are at the elevators and the bottom of the fire stair exit. Only one door opens on a fire door exit. The ground floor, and they know that… everybody knows that. I’m under no illusion that the ground floor won’t be crawling. There is no getting out of here undetected.
After thinking on this all night, I know more than ever I need to ensure her safety.
That’s all I care about now.
Unfortunately, there is only one way to do that. I creep along the hallway until I get to the fire stairs, and I know if I go in I will probably never see my Rosh again. They will put her back into witness protection, and if I am able to fight my way out of this mess with Vikinos’s men, I will be a wanted man from the police. I won’t be able to find her. My chest constricts at the thought of never holding her in my arms, of never touching her again. His men will be waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs.
But she will be safe.
I slowly open the door and walk in and shut it behind me. It clicks with a cold heartbreaking click.
I retrieve my phone from my pocket and dial 911.
“Police, Fire, or Ambulance,” the receptionist answers.
“Police.”
“Putting you through.”
“Hello, Police,” the policeman on the other end answers.
I frown and pinch the bridge of my nose. We were getting married tonight. Emotion overcomes me and my throat constricts. I take a deep breath and force the words from my mouth on autopilot. “This is Joel McIntyre. I kidnapped Roshelle Myers from Carpenter parking lot at gunpoint and held her captive for thirty-one days. She is in room 3590 of the Venetian in Las Vegas.”
“Are you armed?” the policeman asks.
“No, I’m no longer with her.”
“Is she alive?”
“Barely. She needs medical attention. You should hurry.” I hang up and shakily sit down on the steps underneath me as I am overcome with emotion.
Thanks, babe.
That was the best month of my life.
* * *
Roshelle
I lie in the silent darkness and stare at the ceiling. My mind is ticking and I have sick feeling in my gut. Stace has gone looking for an exit, but something else is bothering me.
His mother.
She hasn’t called and yet his face has been plastered all over every news station.
Why hasn’t she called?
Stop thinking the worst, I chastise myself. I close my eyes as I try to block out the vision of my own beloved mother dying.
Stop it, just stop thinking about it.
I get out of bed, make myself cup of tea, and walk over to the window to peer through the crack in the curtain. The sun is rising. A new day. A new opportunity.
How did my life come to this?
What did I ever do in my last life that was so bad that it warranted this kind of torture?
Stace. My beautiful Stace. My face screws up in pain as I walk to the door and look through the peephole. Do they have him now?
Please, no. Please, God, protect him. Please, please, please.
I begin to pace back and forth in the fading darkness.
Why hasn’t she called?
For ten minutes, I pace, so filled with fear for my love that I can hardly stand up.
Crippled at the thought of what they might do if they catch him.
It’s me they want.
Stace, where are you?
I begin to go over the times when Stace’s mom has called. She calls him every few days. If he was on national television as a wanted man, she would call him. I know she would.
But then… I frown. I don’t even know what’s going on anymore. Am I imagining this? Maybe it just seems magnified because I am here in the middle of it, and what if she just hasn’t seen the damn news?
I pick up my phone and scroll to my contacts. I have two. Stace and his mom. I narrow my eyes as I stare at the phone and I click on her number, it rings.
Ring, ring.
Ring, ring.
It picks up and I stay silent.
Nobody answers, but I know someone is there listening.
Fuck.
I frown as I listen.
Why isn’t she saying hello?
I close my eyes as I think. What if this is a trap?
What if they are going to trace my phone? What the fuck have I done?
I instantly hang up. I stand up and throw my hands around in the air in a panic. Oh my God, oh my God. I have fifteen minutes before they can trace where I am. What am I going to do?
My phone beeps a text on the side table, and goosebumps scatter all over my body. I watch it for a few moments in the dark silence with one hand over my mouth. Slowly, I pick it up to see that a video has been sent as a text. I click it open and the blood drains from my face.
A middle aged woman is tied to a chair in a darkened factory. She is black and blue.
Stace’s mom.
Oh dear God. Tears fill my eyes. They have her. They’re going to kill her.
I’m jolted back to life to the sound of my father’s strong voice through the video.
“Roshina. Hand yourself over or she will have same fate as your mother. You have ten minutes.”
The screen goes black.
My heart starts to thump at my loss of power.
Déjà vu.
How does he do this? How does he manipulate me and gain control over every damn circumstance? I taste the hot, salty tears as they run down my face. This isn’t an idle threat. I know he will kill her without a second thought. I walk into the bathroom and stare at my reflection in the mirror where a scared child stares back at me-the same scared child who lost her mother at his evil hands. I can’t. I won’t let that happen. Stace has already lost his father and brother. I can’t let him lose her, too.
His whole family will be gone, just like mine.
The loneliness… Oh, I can’t even think of it. It hurts my heart to remember my mom and the way she died.
For a moment, I sit on the edge of the bathtub, knowing that somehow, all along I knew this was coming. I begin to mentally prepare myself for what’s to come. All those days at the shooting range, all those early morning kickboxing classes, the weekly grief counseling and anger management. It starts a fire in my stomach.
I’ve had it.
He’s got it coming to him… and I’m going to give it.
How fucking dare he try to ruin my life, yet again? Fury starts to pump through my bloodstream. I go to the bathroom, straighten myself up, and without a thought, I head out the door and into the corridor. I turn and walk down to our old room where I can hear the numerous men’s voices on the other side.
Knock, knock, knock.
A tall man in a suit answers and a trace of a smile covers his face, as if he was expecting me.
I glare at him, the hatred for my father so thick in my blood that it clogs my arteries. “My name is Roshina Vikinos.” The men all glance at each other.
“Take me to my father.”
* * *
I sit in the car with a man on either side of me and another two in the front. I’m not tied or bound. He knows he has me, I have no choice but to be here and I have no choice but to kill or be killed. I won’t let her die at his hands like my own beautiful mother did, and I’m sure as shit not letting my Stace come to try and get her out of this.
He would be dead on sight.
I have more of a chance than he does.
We drive for over an hour. It’s early morning and I watch as the people in cars around us all head off to their day at work like everything is normal. It is for them. I wonder what normal feels like? My whole world is collapsing again. It’s like I’m watching it play out in a movie… all my worst fears brought to life.
Armageddon.
The farther we drive from my love, the more I feel the sanity leave my body.
I’ve never felt so fucking crazy.