He grabbed the rest of my shirt and tore it from my body.
I struggled, trying to shield myself, but the chains choked if I moved the wrong way. He stepped back, laughing.
“Beautiful girl. Will be a shame if we have to hurt you.” His eyes bore holes through my chest. “Tell us what we want to know and all will be forgiven.”
I tried to tell him to fuck himself. I tried to scream all the horrible things I wanted to do to him, but nothing came. There was nothing else inside me as I stood bound, gagged, and chained, in only jeans and a bra to cover me.
“See you later,” he said, and walked away.
He disappeared up the steps. I heard the door shut, the lock turn, and I was bathed in near darkness. The only light came from a window that was covered by a thin sheet.
I sagged up against the wall, falling to the ground. I had just enough slack to sit up, though the chains were tight.
In that moment, chained in a gangster’s basement, half naked and cold, all I could think about was Reid. He had done so much for his family, so much for me, and I hadn’t even known about it.
I had to be strong. He was going to come for me. I knew he would come for me. I just had to last until he did. He never let me down.
That thought was my only solace as the day wore thin.
Chapter Twenty-Six: Reid
I woke up early feeling decent for the first time in a long time.
I didn’t have a long hike ahead of me. Since I didn’t have a drug shipment to lug along with me in my pack, I could move a lot faster. Consequently, I was going to get back into town around noon, hours before I usually did.
I broke down my campsite and repacked my bag, but kept my phone slipped into my front pocket instead of buried in some random pouch. I wanted to get any messages from Becca as soon as they came.
I had messaged her the night before when I finally got on an American cell tower with decent enough service, something pretty rare. The little blue bubble said it was delivered, but the night went by without a word from her.
That was unusual, I had to admit. That girl always had her phone with her. It was the most reliable thing in the world: the sun would rise, the wind would blow, and Becca would have her cell within arm’s reach.
As I hiked back toward town, I began to get a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. I felt anxious, like something was eating me up inside, but I wasn’t sure what.
Yeah, the mob might still kill me, but it wasn’t that. I was confident about that.
With about two hours to go, it hit me: Becca still hadn’t responded. There was no way she hadn’t seen my text. Even if she were mad at me, I doubt she would ignore a message like that.
What was going on?
I shook my head, forcing the thought out of my mind. There was probably some explanation. Maybe she dropped her phone in the toilet, or the battery exploded, or any number of reasons why she couldn’t shoot me a quick message.
I concentrated on walking, one foot in front of the other, and resisted the urge to start running. That would only exhaust me, and I had a long day coming.
Minutes turned into hours, and I was just outside of town when my phone buzzed. Excited, I pulled it out of my pants pocket.
Come to my place when you get this
, Thom said.
I blinked at the message, feeling disappointed.
Why, you hear something?
I wrote back.
Just do it.
I frowned at his response but decided to head right over. It was actually closer than my house was, and that suited me just fine. I didn’t need a rest, didn’t want a rest. Becca was perfectly okay. I didn’t need to worry.
It was a few minutes after noon when I walked up through Thom’s backyard, or at least the stretch of woods that led up to his trailer. I stopped outside his door and knocked twice.
“Thom, it’s me,” I called out.
He answered the door, looking haggard. “Hey, man.”
“Did you hear from them?”
He nodded. “But first, I have to show you something.”
“What did they say?”
“Come inside.”
Something felt off. Had the Canadians said no to our deal? I didn’t have time to wonder, because Thom was already back inside his trailer. I followed him in, resolving myself to go with whatever was happening.
He gestured to sit across from him at the table.
“You’re annoying the hell out of me. What’s happening?” I asked.
“I heard from the Canadians, but I got to tell you something first.”
“What’s more important than the mobsters right now?”
“This.” He held out his cell phone. “Take it.”
I reached out and grabbed it.
I was staring at a picture.
For some reason, I was having trouble understanding it.
It was a topless girl, a familiar girl. Her hands were tied up behind her back and she had a length of chain around her throat. The chain was connected to a steel ring set in the wall. It looked like she was standing above a drain in some dingy, disgusting basement.