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It also smells way better. I don't know what the foul odor permeating this place is, but I could go my entire life without having to smell it again.
Warren motions to a dented metal folding chair sitting a few yards into the vast, shadowy space. "Put her there."
Meaty Mitts all but shoves me down, pushing so hard that the chair tips up onto two legs when my weight hits it, and I suck in a sharp breath through my nose, a little worried I'm about to hit the floor. The slimy, smelly floor that I’m pretty sure is the source of the foul odor.
In my first stroke of good luck, the chair miraculously tilts back down on all four legs, and I let out a little sigh of relief.
My eyes are still struggling to adjust to the darkness when Warren clicks on a bare bulb rigged up to an extension cord draped over the exposed metal framework of the ceiling, adding sixty watts to the evening sun filtering through the doorway where we entered this disgusting space. He begins to pace, each step making a sloppy, squishing noise, checking his watch every two seconds like he's expecting something.
Maybe a phone call? Does Fynn already know I've been taken? If he does, this might all be over soon. I thought I hated the idea of Fynn allowing me to be used by the people in my past, but it's really growing on me now. I'm fine with being a pawn at this point. Hell, I would love to be a freaking pawn.
Whatever gets me the hell out of here.
As the minutes tick past, Warren seems to get more and more antsy. By the time I hear steps banging against the metal decking outside, he looks ready to explode.
I turn to the propped open door, pretty sure I know who I'm about to see next when a large shadow hovers in the opening. The man who let us in passes through first, followed by someone who is not the person I was expecting.
Jessica stops just inside the room and gives me a wide smile. "Well what do we have here?"
She is impeccably done. Her hair is smooth and sleek. Her long nails are painted and glossy. The pale pink dress she's wearing is perfectly fitted to her fit frame. Even her makeup is flawless.
With one, glaring exception. Her nose.
It's impossible to tell how much damage I did, because the thing is taped up within an inch of its life. The hint of shadow under her eyes narrows down the timeline of her most recent nose job.
One I'm directly responsible for.
Jessica walks to where I sit, standing close enough I could easily send her back to the plastic surgeon, and I consider it.
But again, not a fan of drowning.
She glares at me a second, before turning toward Warren. "Did you tape her mouth shut because she was crying like a little bitch?"
Warren looks a little more relaxed now that Jessica's here, making me assume she was the one he was waiting for. "I didn't want to listen to her talk." He crosses both arms over his chest. "And you’re fucking late."
Jessica spins away from me, her head snapping Warren's direction. "I'm sorry." It’s not an apology. She advances on him, steps slow and methodical. "I'm not sure what gave you the impression I'm someone you can talk to like that." She stops right in front of him, nearly going nose to nose with the man my father wanted me to marry. "I'll let it slide this once since you didn't know, but if you ever speak to me that way again,” she shoved a finger my direction, “this little bitch won't be the only thing going into the ocean."
Well. Shit. Super glad I didn't swing on her now, since it sounds like their plans for me involve less extortion and more extinction.
It takes everything I have not to react to this new development. To not let panic overtake me. Freaking out is the absolute worst thing I can do. I need to keep it together. To keep my head on straight so I can think. I know I'm smarter than Warren, and I'm way more lucid than Jessica, so I have to believe I'm capable of outwitting them.
Warren snorts, amused by Jessica's threat. "You obviously don't know who you're dealing with, little girl." He inches closer, staring her down. "I'm allowing you to be here out of the goodness of my heart, but don't think I won't happily tie off your loose end."
Jessica's head tips back like he slapped her, her mouth dropping open. "The goodness of your heart?" She squares up to Warren. "You wouldn't even know where she was if it wasn't for me, asshole. If I hadn't sued her for fucking up my nose, you'd still be running around Minnesota with your dick in your hand, crying because she left you at the altar."
They continue arguing, each trying to one-up the other, distracted and paying zero attention to me.
I let my eyes drift around the cavernous space, looking for my best route out of it. There are a slew of doors, but I have no idea if any of them lead outside. The only one I know will get me out into the open is the one I came through, and while the man who I assume was put in charge of guarding that escape is no longer right next to it, he’s still close enough to stop me if I make a break for it.
As long as he sees it happen.
Jessica and Warren are getting louder and louder with each passing second, their heated exchange drawing more and more of the two other men’s focus to them, leaving me practically forgotten. When the big man who stuffed me into the car starts to move closer to Warren and Jessica, I decide to start making my move.
Whatever’s coating the floor reeks to high heaven, but it’s slippery as hell. Since standing up and trying to run would bring attention my way, I use the narrow heels of my pumps for leverage as I begin to slowly push my chair across the disgustingly slick muck. Holding my breath—partly out of fear and partly due to the stink—I continue easing my way closer, hoping they keep their argument going long enough I can slip away unseen.
As luck would have it, neither Jessica or Warren is accustomed to not getting their way, so things continue to get more and more terse, drawing Meaty Mitts and the door guard closer and closer, likely in case they have to intervene. By the time I’m ready to run, they’re all yelling, the chaos serving as the perfect cover.
I slide out of the chair, staying low so no one notices the sudden change in my location. Holding the skirt of my dress so it doesn’t flap around, I dash toward the door Jessica left open when she arrived.
