Page 110 of Dark Alliance
Kill or be killed…and my inaction decided for me.
As he opens the door, Nino continues reciting my impromptu obituary. “Took her own life before the age of thirty. How tragic that she never even made it to her own father’s funeral.”
After that, he’s gone, his Jimmy Choos stomping past our mother’s mermaid and down the grand staircase.
I curl my knees up to my chest, choking on a sob.
I’m going to die.
Chapter 34
Connor
Oil, rusted-out metal, and the pungent rubber of old tires invade my nose before I manage to pry my eyes open. When I do, I know exactly where I am and who I’m with.
Salvage yard.
Oleg Belinski.
Not long ago, Cat and I hid here after the laundromat ambush, behind that blue ghost of a Mustang. We argued while attempting to stay quiet and out of view as her brother ingratiated himself with Belinski. It feels like a memory from another lifetime, back when I was another man who only cared about himself.
Cat…
I can’t sense her nearby. Wherever she is, I hope she’s safe.
I told her I loved her, asked her to move to LA with me, and then—poof—her psycho brother charged in and attacked us both, ripping us apart like we’re living in some Shakespearean tragedy.
If that man hurts her again… They have yet to invent all the methods of torture I’ve got planned for him.
My mouth is thick with the taste of drugs. Unoriginal. It’s not even the good stuff.
I raise my hands to rub my face, and my wrists rattle and clink as they hit the hard surface beneath me.
I’m chained to a table. No, a work bench, I realize, as I crank my neck from side to side.
Heavy chains hug my ankles too. Never have I ever felt more like Frankenstein’s monster.
I wonder what kind of experiments Belinski, Nino, and their confederacy of Russians have in store for me.
In the shadows, I glimpse one of the good doctors now, the one with the stiff, clipped speech and a thick Russian accent. This must mean that Nino’s dealing with Cat, which brings me very little comfort.
I puff out a defeated sigh.
I failed her again.
Fuck.
Belinski approaches me. “Rise and shine, princess.”
Oh, this is how we’re going to play it? With the drugs still in my system, it takes a second to force a wry smile. “It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood, wouldn’t you say?”
He hovers over me, gripping a metal pipe.
Super. “You’re no Mr. Rogers.”
Belinski bares his teeth in a feral grin. “On behalf of the entire Roguilin organization, I want to thank you, Connor Gallagher, for stepping up to be the link we need to sabotage the impending alliance between the Gallaghers and the Riccis once and for all.”
Despite my pounding head, throbbing cheek, and a throat that’s drier than a camel’s foot, I manage to maintain my grin. “Anything for a friend.”
