Page 86 of Tormented Diamonds
Please let this work.
I carefully position my wrists on what I hope are the outside edges of the exposed metal and hold my breath as I scrape them down the side.
There’s a scratching noise, and no pain.
Adrenaline pumping, I saw harder and faster. I have no clue if I’m making progress, but at least concentrating on it keeps me focused and my mind occupied. A few times, my aim slips and I slice another layer of skin, but I immediately correct my form and keep going.
Saw.
Breathe.
Saw.
Breathe.
I can feel the pressure lessening, the tightness relaxing. My pulse kicks up, determination overriding fear… And then, the car stops. The hum of the engine silences, and I hear a door open. My heart thunders against my ribs as it slams closed, and heavy footsteps draw close.
“Shit.” I twist my wrists. While my binding has more “give” to it, it’s not enough to break while lying on my back in the trunk of a car. Panicking, I throw myself onto my other shoulder and search for anything I can use as a weapon.
The footsteps stop. There’s a heart-stopping beep, and the trunk rises just as my hands land on what feels like a ballpoint pen. It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing. Wedging it between my palms, I shove it under the wristband of my watch, then do the hardest thing I’ve ever done—wait.
I’m fighting, Gianni. Please hurry.
A splash of fluorescent light floods the trunk as I roll over and stare into the face of my monster. It’s the fourthtime I’ve faced him, but somehow, it’s the most terrifying. Maybe that’s because I’m completely at his mercy. There’s nowhere to run, no one to help, and no way to fight back. But I think the main reason is that for the first time, my nightmare has a name.
Declan Flynn.
It sounds so normal, sohuman. However, the man glaring down at me is anything but human. His small, close-set eyes are empty black voids emitting nothing but hate. His face is sweaty and littered with scars, his oily red hair hanging in strands. He reeks of dirt and death.
But it isn’t until his lips pull back in a vicious smile that my stomach drops.
Those disgusting yellow teeth seem bigger, longer,sharper.
“Rise and shine.” He pulls a knife from his back pocket, and I fold like a pretzel, doing what little I can to protect my vital organs. His low, condescending laugh scrapes across every raw nerve as he angles the blade at my feet and slices through the binding at my ankles. “Sit up. I’m not fucking carrying you.”
I push up onto my elbows, eventually making it to my knees. I’m taking a risk by moving slowly, but I need time to get a handle on my surroundings. With me being unconscious for so long, we could be in New Jersey or New Mexico.
I blink.More fluorescent lights.
I straighten one leg over the trunk.There’s salt in the air.
I balance my forearm on the opening.I hear waves hit concrete.
“I don’t have all damn night.” In a blur of motion, he grabs a handful of hair and drags me out of the trunk. My knees hit the asphalt with a jarring thud, quickly followed by my glasses.No!Biting my tongue, I stretch my fingertips toward the ground only to have my vision darken as he jerks me to my feet by my hair. “Leave them.” He chuckles. “Trust me. You don’t wantto see what’s coming.”
His fingers stay wrapped around my hair as he shoves me away from the car. I’m cataloging more scenery when a glimpse out of the corner of my eye registers a cargo ship.
Oh, God. I’m at a shipping dock.
My lungs burn with fear, but I force myself to stay alert and search for anything that tells me where he’s taken me. I’m losing the battle when I see a sign off to the right near an empty cargo berth. Without my glasses it’s fuzzy and distorted, but I can still make out the words.
Elizabeth Marine Terminal
I exhale in relief. We’re still in New Jersey. Unfortunately, there’s no hope of someone seeing us. EMT is under Marchesi control, which means wherever we are is unregulated and unmonitored. Perfect for using Gianni’s own operation against him.
“Be quiet and walk normal,” he snaps, shoving something hard and cold into my spine. “Or I’ll slit your throat and throw you in the water.”
No, he won’t. He’s getting off too much in anticipation of what’s coming.
