Confined

Chapter Twenty Three - Highway to Hell

My neck was stiff whenever I opened my eyes. I must've dozed off for a few minutes. It was completely dark outside now. "How much longer now, Victor?"

"Not long." I saw his knuckles tighten on the steering wheel and his jaw clenched like he was nervous about something.

"Are you okay?" I asked, but he didn't acknowledge it.

I glanced out the window, but I couldn't make out much passing by besides dark, rolling hills. This didn't look familiar. When I looked at the clock on the dashboard, the sinking feeling in my chest intensified. It's been over two hours since we left, and we definitely should've been back by now.

"Uh, Victor. Where are we going?" My voice was a lot quieter than it should be.

"This will be a lot easier if you just stop asking questions." Victor wouldn't meet my eyes through the mirror as he ran a hand down his face, his coat shifting, and I could barely see the gun peeking out from his waistband.

I turned back to the window. We weren't going very fast and it looked like nothing but fields outside. I slowly reached out to the door handle, quietly flipping the lock on the door, and before Victor had a chance to react, I yanked the handle, throwing my full body weight against it. Instead of the pavement, I only collided with the door. I tried the handle again but nothing.

"It's locked." Yeah, I kind of figured that out.

I watched the minutes tick away, which wasn't very long, until Victor slowed the car and pulled in front of a large unremarkable building. There were several other cars in the dimly lit area, and a group of people were standing outside waiting for our arrival.

Before Victor even has the car in park, the group of men surround the back door. Even if it weren't locked, I wouldn't have made it very far. The door was jerked open and a hand dragged me from the car. I barely had the chance to look around before one of them stepped forward, stopping inches from my face. I held onto the small sliver of hope in my chest. Surely, Jaime has noticed I was missing by now.

A jagged scar ran from his jaw to the base of his neck, the skin pink and shiny. A new scar, I'd guessed. He studied me, his eyes the color of a deep ocean, ready to drag me down and drown me.

"Pavlov." The word came out more as a statement than a question, but once the word left my lips, I knew I was right.

His thin lips part in a humorless smile. "So you're Jaime's girl? He sure knows how to pick 'em."

I opened my mouth, ready to throw him every curse word I knew, but the hand on my arm tightened, a gun burning a hole in my side. I glared at Pavlov, swallowing down the fear clawing its way up my throat.

"Take her inside."

I was pushed in the direction of the building and stumbled in my heels, held upright only by the hand on my arm. "Wait." Pavlov held up a hand right before we passed him. His eyes trailed down to my throat. He reached for my neck, touching the delicate necklace resting against my chest. "Such a beautiful necklace for a beautiful woman." He gave it a hard tug, breaking the clasp and inspected it, fingering the diamonds.

"When were you going to tell me there was a tracker in her necklace?" He wasn't talking to me, his eyes trained somewhere over my shoulder. I barely had time to look behind me to see Victor rounding the car, face pale as a ghost, when a gunshot rang out. I watched the bullet rip a hole through his chest and he dropped with a thud. My knees gave out along with the small scream that passed my lips, but somehow I remained upright. No one said anything nor did they make a move towards Victor's body.

"Idiot." Pavlov muttered under his breath before tossing the necklace to one of his men. "Send it away. Jaime will have fun chasing that across the country." I started panicking, my pulse racing. It would be useless and Jaime would never come if they sent him on a wild chase for nothing.

I rushed the henchman holding the necklace, tearing free from the hand still attached to me. I managed to snatch it from his grasp and threw it to the ground, crushing it with my heeled show. I smiled in triumph at the satisfying crunch,

My victory was short-lived, however. I was tackled to the ground, gravel scraping my arms and face. "Naughty girl." Pavlov growled in my ear. "No matter. We'll have plenty of fun before he finds your dead body."

My blood ran cold and I'm hauled back to my feet. My whole body was numb as I was escorted inside. The room I was put in reminded me of the ones in Jaime's basement. It was cold and I suppressed a shiver. Pavlov pushed me down in a metal chair in the middle of the room. One of his men secured my wrists and ankles to the chair and they filed out of the room. And I was alone with Pavlov.

Pavlov pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket and slowly shook a single one out, placing it between his lips. He held the pack out to me, but I wrinkled my nose in disgust. He shrugged, stowing it back in his pocket. He took out a lighter and lit the end of his cigarette, taking a long drag. He pulled a chair from the corner of the room and sat in front of me. He was close enough that our knees touched and the smell of smoke assaulted my nostrils. I tried to shift back in my seat to create some distance, but my bonds restricted me. Pavlov took another drag, the end glowing menacingly.

"I was shocked, to say the least, when I heard Santoro let a witness live. One of the best in the business, breaking his own rule. Imagine my surprise when I find out about you." His hard eyes trailed up and down my body causing a shiver to run down my spine. I wished I had something else on besides this stupid, revealing dress. "I can see why he kept you."

He raised a hand, cupping my face. His hand was cold and I tried to jerk my head away, but he caught my chin, forcing me to look at him. He ran his hand down my neck, lingering at my collarbone. Bile rose in my throat.

Pavlov leaned back, resting his elbows on the back of his chair. There was a malicious glint in his eyes that made my blood turn to ice in my veins. "After all this time, you are his only weakness. If I want to break him, I'll have to break you." His crazed eyes looked right into my soul as he blew a lungful of smoke in my direction. I turned my head, holding my breath against the stench.

"Go to hell." I hissed.

I caught a glimpse of amusement in his eyes before he removed the cigarette from between his lips. In one quick movement, he extinguished the lit end of the cigarette into the skin of my leg, the slit in my dress betraying me. It felt like he had driven a hot poker into my leg. A small breath of air hissed past my clenched teeth.

Pavlov tosses the cigarette butt to the ground carelessly. He stood, kicking the chair backwards. He paced the room and slowly rolled the sleeves of his shirt past his elbows, revealing a tattoo of a snake slithering up his arm.

"You're a coward."

Pavlov smirked in response, but said nothing. Without warning, his fist collided with my stomach. The air left my lungs in a whoosh and I'm left gasping for air. Before I have a chance to breathe, his other fist drilled into my side, and I let out a small, pained scream. It echoed against the bare concrete walls and Pavlov took a step back. His eyes gleamed dangerously as he pulled something out of his pocket. I caught a glimpse of a handgun in the waistband of his pants when his shirt rose. My eyes followed his movements as he flipped open a switchblade, coldness seeping through my chest and settling in the pit of my stomach. Part of me wondered why he doesn't go straight for the gun. At least it would be over sooner.