Page 2 of The #2 Guy

PROLOGUE CHRISTINE

Days turn to nights and I don’t even know the difference. Locked up in a storage room for months or years; I have no clue what is going on above me. I’m buried alive. Living in a cellar. My captor is kind at least. I half hope he’ll take me in his arms and tell me it’ll be alright… that someday he’ll set me free.

He wears a ring but clams up whenever I bring it up. I hate the fact that I am totally crushing on the gentle giant with his full beard and shaggy hair streaked with silver. He’s husky and big. Wears flannel shirts and jeans. He’s gentle and yet I see his edge. But all my years of training in the FBI could never prepare me for this life of endless solitude, spent living underground.

Sighing, my fingers trace over the rough edges of stone making up the wall next to my bed. Why did he keep me alive? Does he hate me? I hated him. No, loathed him with every fiber of my being. Until I didn’t. Until somehow the feel of his hands on me was all I cared about. I don’t even know if he got out alive or if the mob put a bullet in that thick skull of his. Guilt eats at me. I loved him, I loved him not. Definitely lusted. There’s no doubt Johnny and I could let the world burn while we were in bed. Sometimes I wake up covered in sweat, slick with need between my thighs after dreaming about my ex-lover. Forced, to touch myself to sate the throbbing need that never seems to dissipate.

I’m awake but have no idea if it’s morning yet. My captor does his best to keep me awake during the day and tells me when to sleep at night. He says it’s to keep my circadian rhythm in line…. Says it’s “good for my heart.”

My heart.

My heart is a mysterious place. Sometimes even a stranger to me. Did I love him or hate him? I wish it would answer. Alone in the dark, the only movie I see is the one in my mind…playing all over again. Like the memory of my brother, Jack, taking me back to how this all started.

“It’s time. We’ve prepped years for this moment, I’m proud of you sis.”My brother, Jack clasped me on both shoulders. He was assigned to the crime unit trying to take down Roque Salvatore and was able to get me on as well. But Although Salvatore was the FBI’s target—Johnny was ours. It was some stroke of twisted luck that the two men were tight in both business and life. I read the file on him and Roque. Rented an apartment in Manhattan and played the part of just another girl living in New York hoping to make it in the city of dreams. Fate has a sick sense of humor because while I was angling how to catch Johnny’s eye somehow, my roommate, Selina caught Rafael Vásquez Edwards eye. Rafe, Roque and Johnny went to Princeton together and forged fucked-up brother hood. The three of them were the princes of Manhattan. But one by one, they would fall.

Rafe was the first. I’m not sure about Roque but Johnny—he fell but in taking him down, I took myself with him. “Get Them both, Christine. I’m counting on you.”But I didn’t get them. They got me and now I’m lost somehwere. Somewhere in the dark. All sense of space and time has left me. The door creaks open.

The smell of the food coming off the tray is tomato soup with… grilled cheese?

“Ah it must be lunch time, then?”

I sit up, crossing my legs on the bed. He doesn’t comment but offers a small smile instead. “I brought you a new Sudoko and some magazines.” He tosses them on the bed then turns to leave.

“Wait.” I grab his big hand, holding it. His cheeks turn red. He isn’t rude but he pulls his hand away. “Stay. Please? I’m going insane. Losing my mind. Can I please see the sun? Just for a moment….”

“No.” He’s firm. I feel myself crack. I’m strong but I let him finally see me cry.

“There now, girl.” He puts his bulky arms around me. I sob into his chest. His strong, low voice soothes me as he strokes my hair. “It’ll be okay. No one is gonna hurt ya’. I swear to ya’ that.” And he is right. Sometimes another man brings me food and supplies, but none ever lay a hand on me. None ever made me feel the need to defend.

“Why? Who? Who is keeping me here? Is Johnny dead? In jail?”

“I can’t answer your questions. But you know what you did and who you betrayed. You’re lucky this is your sentence.”

“Where do you fit in all this? Who are you?”

He moves away from me. “Eat. Do your puzzles. I’ll come visit later.”

“Please don’t leave me alone in the dark. I’d rather die than slowly go insane.”

He sighs deeply. “I like you. I do. But I can’t betray them.”

“Who?”

But he’s gone, leaving me with the memories playing like a movie in my mind again. This time I’m at the club, watching Johnny as another woman gyrates on his lap. Being in his physical presence was a punch to the gut. He was a magnet, sucking me in, drawing me closer. An unexpected surge of jealousy coursed through me when I saw the skank on his lap. I yanked that bitch right off and when I straddled him, my eyes almost rolled back in my head as I felt what he was working with. He smelled good. Like cinnamon cloves and whiskey. His kiss tasted the same. It was too easy to forget who he was. Who I was. And what I had made an oath to do. I had to keep reminding myself he was a ruthless killer and thug. Sometimes when I was feeling weak, after he held me all night, I’d go home and pop the floorboard where I kept my parent’s crime scene photos. The gruesome reminder of the justice that needed serving. I was that justice. Jack was depending on me to get it for my parents. Taking Johnny and Roque down was the plan. But that plan backfired. Somehow, they made me. The last thing I remember was opening my fridge for a bottle of water. Someone grabbed me from behind. The sting of a syringe plunging into my neck as I screamed is all I can recall. When I woke up, I was here. In the blackness. Over the course of days, a blanket appeared, then a bottle of water. Slowly, I earned my keeper’s trust and as I did, more comforts of a home appeared.

But I still need to escape. I need to get out of here. I spent the rest of what I believe to be afternoon doing Sudoku, yoga and perusing through magazines. It must be sometime near fall if the ads for pumpkin spice drinks are any indication. But then again, part of psychological warfare is to make your captive believe what you wish. It could be spring for all I know. These could be old magazines. Who the fuck knows? My keeper blacks out any mention of dates in print. Keeping me lost in space and time. After I contort my body into as many positions as possible, I do planks, sumo squats and try like hell to remember my old routine, the one I did with my former roommate Selina. I wonder what became of her? Her relationship with Rafe seemed like the real deal. Guilt eats at me. I betrayed her as well. Lied to her about who I was. They might’ve thought that she was in on the sting with me and snapped her neck.

I shuffle into the shower then crawl back into my mattress of a bed. I drift off to sleep, pretending Johnny’s strong arms wrap around me. I might’ve been playing a role, but in the dark and under the sheets—everything I felt was 100 percent real.

* * *

“Wakeup.”A hand gently shakes me on the shoulder. “Johnny?” I breathe, snuggling deeper under the thin blankets. I roll over, putting my arms around him. But he tenses. Freezes. Of course, because he hates me.

“Wake up.” The hand shakes me harder. Blinking in the dark, I make out my captor’s handsome face. Well what I can see of it behind his sexy caveman slash lumberjack beard.

“Put this on.” He hands me a sweatshirt and a pair of womens sneakers. My heart picks up speed. Is he helping me escape? Is this my chance? But my hopes are dashed as I notice the other items he has in his hands.

“I’m not into that,” I try to tease, nodding to the blindfold, rope, and zip ties in his hands. Maybe he isn’t here to save me but to end me. Nervous, I scoot back not wanting to leave the basement anymore.

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