Page 51 of Vicious Souls

How could he possibly know that? Even I didn’t know that. What did he know that I didn’t?

I recover quickly enough to hide the crack that has forced its way into my heart. The docks. All this has been for the docks? Was this the reason I was taken? As a trade? For some real estate? That’s why Dante showed so much interest in me? So he could soften me up, maybe get me to agree instead of having to trade me for the docks and look like the asshole that he is? He had never really answered my question and told me why he’d been following me that day at the club. Or why he’d decided to save me from the Savages. Hell, I still didn’t even know what he had hoped to gain by kidnapping me from my own father’s funeral. Had it all been just an elaborate ploy to win my trust and gain access to the waterways? And if he had nothing to trade, did that mean he’d even bother to come and save me from Tate?

When endless moments pass without me saying anything, Tate speaks up, reiterating that everything would be smoothed over with the Accardis once we give them the docks. He has no idea he’s literally piercing my heart with the tip of a poisonous spear.

“Just like that? Accardi’s going to accept that you invaded his home, destroyed it, and killed his men… in exchange for a piece of real estate?”

All I can do is buy myself some time while my mind goes into overdrive. There has to be a way for me to save myself from this monster. Even if Dante did decide to look for me, there’s no way he’d be able to find me – how would he ever know my whereabouts when I hadn’t even known the existence of this place myself?

“Your father wouldn’t sell it to them. Even when they offered top dollar, and they’ve been trying for years. For the Accardis, having the docks would make their business model complete; it becomes a self-sufficient, multi billion dollar empire without any of them lifting a finger ever again.”

I can’t digest the shock I’m feeling, struggling to school my features. This can’t be happening. I can almost feel my heart bleeding out. Tate’s words cut through me without registering as I try my hardest to remain calm. I’m having serious trouble breathing. I look up towards a window raised high in the wall, caked with dirt and dust, barely letting in any light. The roller door is shut and we’re relying on artificial light to be able to even see in front of us. It’s so stuffy and claustrophobic in here, and I think I’m going to start hyperventilating. From what I’ve seen of the Accardis – their properties, their assets, even the sheer volume of employees on their payroll, they seem like they’re monied up. Could all of this – every event since that night at the club – have been all about money?

“Air,” I gasp. “Tate, I need air.”

He fixes me with a curious look, like I’m a mystery that needs to be solved, before he turns away and walks toward a wall. He presses a button and there is a mechanical whir; light seeps into the hangar, and he presses the button again, which gives us only fifteen inches or so of open space in which air wafts into the dusty facility.

“Is that better?” he asks, his look now one of concern. I hope he feels guilty for sucking the air out of my life.

I nod, contrite, realizing that he now feels sorry for me. I wonder if I can somehow play on his emotions now to win him over. After what he’s just told me about the Accardis, I doubt Dante is going to come riding in on a white horse to save me. And the only way for me to get out of this situation now may be to shake hands with the devil himself. Make him think I’m on board, and once we’re out of here, find a way to dispose of him. I am under no illusion that Tate is now a liability to me. But he is the one now in control; if I am to reverse that situation, I have to think smart and act hard.

48

DANTE

Pietro has eyes on the airfield and confirms no movement has been made. By now, Tate’s waiting men would be bored and worn down; they would not be expecting an attack, and would therefore be unprepared enough for us to take them by surprise.

The cars on the road reach the meeting point just after we do. After going over the plan once again, we get back into the cars and head for the airfield, kicking up dirt as we travel through the terrain. It has been decided that I will deal with the hangar in which Kingsley is located, in conjunction with comms from Pietro, while the men will disperse and attack the two majority occupied hangars, led by my father, after I gain quiet entry to Kingsley’s location.

Marco and I sneak up to the hangar, locating a side door which is easy enough to open by picking the lock.

“Go,” I tell Marco, after I try the door. He shakes his head furiously, refusing to leave me. “Go! I’ve got this.” Reluctantly, he turns away from me and joins the men at the rear of the other hangars. He shoots me an uncertain look as he turns my way before I disappear through the door, and I respond with a curt nod. He is worried about me, and I know also that he has developed a brotherly affection for Kingsley and wants to do everything he can to help save her.

I make my way into the hangar, glad for the shadow of a truck parked in front of me to hide my movement. If I have to die saving Kingsley, I will do it on my terms. I have both guns out before I go any further, listening for any sound. The massive hangar is dark and musty, a cloud of dust kicking up where I step.

Kingsley’s melodious voice filters through the hangar, reaching my ears, and I breathe a quiet sigh of relief at the sound.

“Aren’t you going to untie me?” she asks.

“Are you going to tell me how you spent your time with Accardi?”

That’s definitely Tate. And she is now definitely under his control. The fact that he has her tied up causes my jaw to lock in anger. Just the thought of him touching her makes me violent with fury.

“I already told you. He kept me locked up in a room. I was fed, but I had minimal interaction with anyone.”

“And Accardi, what did you talk about?”

I don’t know why he’s so fixated on me.

“I was in my room the whole time; I hardly ever saw him.”

“And when you did see him?”

“What about it?”

“You really don’t know why he took you?”

“Beyond what you’ve told me, no.”

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