Page 21 of Salvation

I shook my head, frustration gnawing at me. “Not yet.”

I moved to the door, examining it more carefully. Solid metal, hinges on the outside where we couldn’t reach them. The lock appeared sturdy. I pressed my ear against the cold surface, listening for any sounds that might tell us more about where we were. Faintly, I could hear a mechanical hum -- a furnace or water heater -- and distant voices, too muffled to make out words.

Returning to Clover, I sank down beside her on the mattress and held up my bound wrists, examining the zip ties. They were pulled tight, biting into my skin. Not impossibly tight, but enough that I couldn’t simply slip free. I twisted my wrists experimentally, testing the give of the plastic.

“Can you get them off?” Clover asked, watching intently.

“Not easily.” I glanced at her bonds. “They’re amateurs, malishka. Professional kidnappers would have used something stronger. Or kept us separate. Left a guard. These men are trusting us to stay put and not fight back.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “How do you know what professional kidnappers do?”

I paused, considering how much to tell her. She knew pieces of my past -- the boarding school, the rescue by the club, my marriage to her father for protection. But not everything. Not the darkest parts.

“I grew up around dangerous men,” I said finally. “My father’s associates. I learned things, even as a child. What to watch for. How to survive.” I nodded toward the door. “These men? They’re not professionals. They’re local thugs who think they can make easy money.”

“Will Dad pay them?” Her voice was small, uncertain.

I met her gaze steadily. “No, malishka. The club doesn’t pay ransoms.”

Fear flashed across her face. “Then what --”

“Shh.” I moved closer, lowering my voice to barely above a whisper. “Your father won’t pay them. Neither will the club. That’s not how the Reckless Kings operate.”

“But then how will we --”

“They will come for us,” I continued, certainty hardening my voice. “Your father, Beast, all of them. They won’t follow the kidnappers’ instructions, won’t play by their rules. They will hunt them down and destroy them completely.”

Clover’s eyes widened. “Destroy them?”

“These men made a fatal mistake taking us,” I said, not softening the truth. She’d grown up in the club. She knew what they were capable of. “The Reckless Kings protect their own. And they make examples of those who threaten what’s theirs.”

A small shiver ran through her, but she nodded. “Dad will come.”

“Yes. And we must be ready when he does.” I glanced down at our bound wrists. “We should conserve our strength. Eat what they brought us. Stay alert. Look for any opportunity.”

Clover reached for the fast-food bag with her bound hands, her movements awkward but determined. We ate in silence, the cold burgers tasteless but necessary fuel. I made her drink an entire bottle of water, knowing dehydration would only make things worse.

“What do you think they’ll do?” she asked after a while, her voice steadier now. “When they realize the club won’t pay?”

I considered the question carefully. “They’ll get desperate. Desperate men make mistakes.” I met her eyes. “That’s when we’ll have our chance.”

“What if they…” She trailed off, unable to voice her fears.

I leaned forward, pressing my forehead against hers as I had done countless times since she was a child. “Listen to me, Clover. I will not let anyone hurt you. Do you understand? Not ever.”

She nodded, swallowing hard. “I know.”

“Your father taught me many things over the years,” I continued, a small smile touching my lips. “How to shoot. How to fight. How to survive.” I didn’t add that these lessons had built on what I’d already learned growing up in the shadows of the Bratva, as that hadn’t done me any good when monsters actually threatened me. But I wasn’t that weak teenager anymore. “If those men come through that door intending harm, they will regret it.”

Something shifted in Clover’s expression -- fear giving way to a tentative confidence. She was Salvation’s daughter, after all. Courage ran in her blood.

“What can I do?” she asked. “To help?”

Pride swelled in my chest. “Stay close to me. Follow my lead. And if I tell you to run, you run. No arguments.”

She nodded solemnly. “Okay.”

We fell silent again, listening to the distant sounds of the building. My mind turned to Salvation, imagining him watching the video our captors had sent. Seeing the defiance in my eyes. Understanding my message. By now, the club would be mobilized, hunting through the city for any trace of us. For any connection to Vince and Marco.

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