Bad Girl_ Valetti Crime Family(49)

His dark eyes stare into mine as my fingers finally find a large chunk. I'm quick to make a fist to conceal it, even though it digs into the palm of my hand. I can't risk him seeing it. It's my only chance at freeing myself.

My heart skips a beat as he grabs my shoulders and drags my body back to the shed. The glass and gravel scrape my legs and I try to cry out, but the gag mutes the screams.

“Stay!” he yells, pointing his finger at me like I'm a dog. It gets a laugh from the other men. His large hand grips my chin and then he smacks my face several times—not hard, just enough to demoralize me. “Bad bitch. Stay.” His accent is thick. I rest my head against the shed and pretend that I've lost all hope. I let the tears that beg to be released, slide down my cheeks. He laughs sickly and his foul breath fills my lungs as he turns to leave me, walking back to stand with the others. They're talking louder now, and in Russian.

As soon as I hear them patting him on the back and laughing, I push the glass to the zip tie on my ankle. It almost slips from my hand. The blood from my hand makes it difficult to hold. But I keep my grip and move it back and forth across the plastic. The glass is uneven and cuts into my ankles a few times, but the pain doesn't register at all. My eyes are focused on the gap in the trees, marking the entrance to this area. Tommy will be here soon; all I need to do is free myself before that happens.

It feels like forever, but it must only be a few minutes until both the zip ties around my wrists and ankles have snapped. I don't move yet. My limbs are screaming at me to take off. But they don't need me alive, they just want to make it hurt that much more for Tommy. If I run, they could shoot to kill me and there's no reason they'd hold back. Even worse, if I did run and they caught me, I don't know what they'd do to me. But I'm sure they wouldn't let me get out again.

So I wait. My skin prickles with anxiety, and the only thing I can hear is my heart beating loudly in my ears. I remember my phone in my back pocket and I struggle to keep my movements slow. Every time one of them looks at me, I freeze and try to remain as still as possible.

I should call the cops. I need help, and I know they could possibly come in time to save me, but they may also find Tommy. I don't want him to get caught in the middle of this, but I have to do everything I can to save myself and our baby. My skin feels like ice as I dial the numbers 9-1-1 behind my back. But I've done it.

I can faintly hear the dispatcher speaking, even though I can't give her any verbal confirmation that I'm on the line. I hit a button every few seconds, hoping she'll catch on.

“Are you unable to speak?” I barely hear the words. I don't hit any keys.

“If you can hear me, dial a number.” My thumb presses down. I barely hear a faint beep. I keep my eyes on my captors. They show no signs that they can hear anything.

“Assistance is on its way. Is there a threat in your immediate vicinity?” she asks.

The phone slips from my hand as I try to push a number. It falls to the ground with a faint thud. I watch them, but they don't hear it. I can't hear her anymore.

There's no one else.

All I can do now is wait. There's nothing else left that I can do to save myself. I need Tommy.





Tonya





Time passes slowly, yet nothing happens. I keep my eyes on the road and then on the men. My heart won't calm, and my skin sweats with anxiety. He's coming. I know he is. But what if he isn't? What if the cops come and the men hear? It'll only take a single bullet to end my life before they take off.

I'm relying on someone else to save me. And I fucking hate that.

I think I hear a car coming through the trees and closer to the entrance, and it distracts me. It also gets the men's attention and they raise their guns. No, no! I can't let them shoot. I start to stand, but the deafening sounds of guns being fired stops me in my tracks.

Bullets ring out from my left and right. But I can't see where they're coming from. They ricochet off the cars, and I instantly scramble back behind the shed to find cover.

I turn my body to run, but I slam into a hard, unmoving chest. My eyes flash to a set of light blue eyes, but before I can react, the man's pinning my arms down and carrying me toward the back of the shed. I kick out as hard as I can and land a blow to his shin. I try to push him off me as he curses and nearly drops me. I hear bullets hitting the metal of the cars. I hear men shouting and yelling. The sound of a man getting shot and falling to the ground fills my ears.

“Left, left!” someone calls out. These are the sounds of an ambush.

Fear overwhelms my body, but I force my limbs to push him away. I didn't come this close to escaping, just to be taken again. I refuse to stop fighting.

“Jesus, woman, I'm here to protect you.” He pushes me against the shed with all of his body weight. I try to move my arm so I can get an uppercut in, but he leans his entire body against me, rendering both of us useless. I continue to struggle. I won't give up. “Calm the fuck down! Tommy sent me.” My body stills as I hear a few men call out. “On the passenger side!” A bullet and then another.