Page 16 of Ruthless

She closes her eyes. When she speaks again, she does so in a hurry.

“I’m not sure how he found me, but less than a year ago, Dante came into the hospital and asked if I knew you. I told him that we went to school together. I didn’t think it was a big deal, but a few days later, he was waiting for me outside work. He told me that you’d be moving back for a job in the ER and that when you did, I needed to rekindle our friendship again or else…and then, once I did, I’d need to cut back my hospital hours and work here…” She trails off in misery.

My expression softens. “He threatened you too.”

Angela nods while sucking down a shaky breath. “I’m sorry I lied to you. I didn’t have a choice. He didn’tgiveme a choice.”

I don’t ask what Dante held over her head because I’m too overwhelmed. First Jeremy, and now Angela? While her betrayal is a slap to the face, the guilt stings even worse. This, too, is my fault. She’s another person caught up in the cross fire.

I’m stunned by just how thoroughly Dante has violated every aspect of my life.

He lured us back to this city with a job for me. A job for Jeremy at the company he owned. He tracked down Angela, an innocent woman, and intimidated her into spying on me.

The level of cold calculation that went into this, all just for a chance to trap me here, is chilling, and I realize with a start that this goes far beyond hate. Why, though? And why have his men scare me off only to lure me back five years later?

I study my cell, my mind racing. The effects of whatever they dosed me with are wearing off. Great in theory, but I’m also pretty sure it’s one of the reasons why I’m feeling worse as time goes on instead of better. Without drugs in my system, there’s nothing left to pad the residual pain inflicted by the collar and chain. Or dampen the psychological horror of my situation.

At least seeing Angela confirms my suspicions that we’re still in New York. Maybe not even that far from the club.

The lack of windows in my cell and the artificial light beyond the door suggest we’re in a basement.

“Angela. Do you know where we are?”

She shakes her head. “No. Not really. Whenever he needs me, one of his goons shows up out of nowhere and blindfolds me.”

Sighing, I brace myself against the wall as I climb to my feet. As much as I would love to succumb to my emotions, that comes with a price tag I can ill afford. If I hope to escape this place, I need to compartmentalize by separating myself from the terrible things happening, the same way I do at work.

Analyze the situation, gather information, and do whatever the scenario requires.

If I play my cards right, I can save Jeremy from Dante. Angela too.

Stretching, I grit my teeth against the pain until the agony dulls to a manageable level.

Angela joins me, supporting my elbow when my legs wobble again. “Your blood sugar is probably low. You need to eat.”

She leads me over to the cot, but I can’t bring myself to sit down just yet. Instead, I clutch the plate against my abdomen and scarf down the waffles one by one. No fork, for obvious reasons, so my hands will have to do.

I reach for the glass with syrupy-sticky fingers and down the juice in just a few gulps. When I’m finished, I wipe my handsoff with a wet napkin and allow my head to fall back. Despair threatens to pull me under. I try my best not to drown, but every breath feels like an uphill climb.

“I can’t let him chain me up again tonight.” I need to be ready at a moment’s notice and strong enough to fight back. Kneeling all night takes too much of a toll.

“We need to convince him to keep the manacle off. If I can—” I cut myself off, hesitating. How can I trust Angela after the way she lied to me? I’m questioning so much about our friendship now, but my options are limited. “Will you help me? Please, Angela. I have to get home to Jeremy. Heneedsme.”

Angela purses her lips and averts her eyes. “I don’t know, Sara. Dante, he’s…god…if you only knew what he was capable of…”

She trails off, and for the first time in all the years I’ve known her, her shine dims. The hopelessness radiating from her sinks my stomach.

“Just what, exactly, am I capable of?”

A startled Angela jumps and whips around. At the sight of Dante leaning in the doorway, my body goes cold.

How long was he lingering there? How much did he hear? More than enough, going by the dark displeasure on his face.

“Dante, I can explain.” He doesn’t permit Angela to finish. Instead, he grabs her by the upper arm and wrenches her out of the cell. I chase after them, but my weakened legs collapse just as the door slams in my face and the locks engage.

I hear her yelp behind the steel, and I raise my voice. “Don’t hurt her!”

I punch at the door, bruising my knuckles, before my strength gives out. Every joint in my body burns, and my muscles wobble as if they’ve already atrophied.