I stepped towards the door and ducked my head. What greeted me was a shock. In my limited experience, which was based mainly on action movies, the bad guy was never attractive. His face usually featured an identifying scar or a tattoo across his knuckles that said MOM while hatred blazed from his evil eyes. Whatever it was, it was a screaming beacon that told you he was the bad guy—avoid this man at all costs! The man sitting in the back of this car was none of those. His hair was short and light brown, his suit sharp and fresh—right down to the gold monogrammed cuff links on his shirtsleeves.
He grinned, showcasing a dimple that would melt any woman’s heart and winked at me with his light blue eyes. “Hop in, Quinn. I don’t bite.”
“Sure you don’t,” I muttered under my breath and slid inside the car.
No matter how friendly or how good looking he was, my stomach still rolled when the door slammed shut behind me.
The car accelerated smoothly out of the hospital zone and into traffic, stopping soon after at a red light. Being high on painkillers, the decision to take a leaping dive out of a moving vehicle might possibly be the best option in this scenario. My hand reached for the door handle as we began to accelerate, but no matter how many times I yanked on it, the damn thing was determined to see me fail.
The man chuckled before saying, “Put your seatbelt on.”
“Fuck you.” I folded my arms, not without a measure of pain. “Who are you anyway?”
“Nice of you to offer…” he looked me up and down “… but you look a little too sweet for my tastes. Now put your seatbelt on,” he enunciated clearly. “If I have to tell you again, I promise you won’t like the way I do it. I hate having to repeat myself.”
My eyes narrowed but I slid the seatbelt carefully over my aching shoulder and fumbled awkwardly as I clicked it in place.
“Happy now?”
“I am, thank you. I have a vested interest in keeping you alive. It wouldn’t do to see you harmed before we arrive at our destination.”
“Who are you?” I ground out.
“No need to be rude, Miss Salisbury, it doesn’t suit you, but I’ll answer your question. My name is Luka Zampetti.”
My eyes went wide. “You...you’re…”
“Oh.” Luka’s eyes crinkled in pleasure. “You know of me then?”
“David was the one that sent the Zampetti crime group your way to either get the money in cash or get their use from you some other way. They went for the cash option first.”
“I-I don’t have any money.”
“Quinn.” He tutted. “You could have gotten the money if you tried hard enough, but as it turns out, I have another use for you.”
“Quinn, this isn’t just about drugs. It’s exploitation of the worst kind. Women forced into prostitution.”
I shivered in horror. “I won’t… I won’t do—”
“No, no, I wouldn’t be so horrid as to subject you to that distastefulness, even though you would fetch a good bit of money. I leave all that with my father to deal with. No, Quinn, you’re like a little diamond in the rough that has fallen into my lap. I have a much greater use for you than that.” He waved his hand as though dismissing the subject. “You’ll find it all out later. First I want to talk about this morning.” He grinned and it was almost childlike in delight. “Did you like what I did for you?”
My brow furrowed. “What you did?”
“Wow, you’re a bit slow, aren’t you? Never mind. You have been in the hospital and a bit out of the loop I suppose. I got rid of David for you. The stupid bastard. Kept attacking you at every turn. So predictable. Once we realised who you were, we couldn’t have him go off on one of his rages and accidentally kill you. You’re far too important. So I had him shot. How bloody marvellous it was that your cowboy happened to be in the way. The police who arrived on scene were so daft they arrested him for it. Soon enough they’ll work it out, but it got them out of my hair long enough to get to you, didn’t it? Bloody Jamieson and Valentine getting their fingers into every pie in Sydney. It’s not good for business.”
I was completely lost. “You realised who I am? I don’t understand?”
My phone vibrated from my back pocket and I froze, having forgotten it was there.
“Quinn, I really don’t like repeating myself. As I said, you’ll find it all out soon enough. Now hand over your phone.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
The slap was hard and fast, and I cried out as my already pounding head copped another round of agony.
“Hand over your phone, Quinn.”
I used my right arm to reach behind me, struggling to get to the back left pocket of my pants as tears smarted my eyes. The phone stopped ringing, starting again only moments later. I could only hope that if it was Travis and he was still locked up, he wasn’t wasting his one phone call on me.
Luka snatched it from my hands, looking at the display before answering with a smile.
“Mr. Valentine.”
I swallowed, wondering which Mr. Valentine it was.
The voice on the other end was loud and forceful, but I couldn’t make out the words over the rumble of the car engine.
“You’re speaking with Luka Zampetti.”
“Fuck!” came the reply. That I heard.
“Such language you people have.” He said you people as though we were lower class thugs. “Yes we have Quinn if that’s what you were trying to ask me. We’re absolutely delighted with her. She’s so very pretty.”
There was a pause while the voice on the other end spoke.
“What was that? You want to talk to her?” Luka shrugged. “Why not.”
He held the phone out towards me, and I took it gingerly, my shoulder twinging at the casual movement. “Hello?”
“Quinn! Are you okay?” came the hoarse voice of Travis.
“Oh, Travis,” I murmured, my heart pounding hard as I tried to sound calm. “You wasted your phone call.”
“What?”
“Your one phone call,” I repeated patiently.
“Quinn, Jesus. It was a misunderstanding. They let me go when they realised it wasn’t me who shot David. Have they—”
I cut him off. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” He didn’t sound fine. I could hear Casey in the background yelling. He didn’t sound fine either. “Have they hurt you?”
“No,” I lied. “I’m fine too.”
“Hold tight, sweetheart. I’m coming for you. I promise.” Hot tears filled my eyes because I knew Travis would be moving Heaven and Earth to fill that promise. “Just…I need to know we’re okay—you and me,” he pleaded hoarsely. “I need to hear you say it.”
The BMW purred along the streets, but the scenery was a blur. I didn’t know where I was being taken or why I was so valuable to the Zampetti’s. My future suddenly wasn’t so certain.
“I’m sorry I didn’t trust in us. That I didn’t give you a chance to explain before I ran. Nothing we have is a lie,” I whispered, knowing the love I’d seen in his eyes was clear long before he’d said the words. I was scared I’d never see that again, or tell him he was beautiful and strong and so damn relentless, and that he was my whole world. A tear spilled over and rolled down my cheek. “I love you.”
“Oh, God, sweetheart,” he choked out softly. My knuckles went white on the phone. “I love you so much.”
“I…Travis—” I cried out when Luka took the phone and covered my mouth with my hand to smother the sob.
“Mr. Valentine,” Luka said into the phone. “Quinn is going to prove very valuable to us, but we’re going to be busy from here on in. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t bother us again.”
Luka depressed the button on the door and the window slid down. He casually tossed my phone out onto the road and slid the window back up. Travis had told me they could track me anywhere as long as I had my phone. I had just watched my last chance of seeing him again tossed out the window and my heart sank.
Feeling numb, we eventually pulled into the driveway of a suburban middle class house. Nice lawns, rendered brickwork painted beige, black wrought iron fence—completely nondescript—nothing that screamed evil-doers lived within.
Luka led me through the front door, down an entryway, towards an open style living, dining and kitchen area at the back. Our soft footfalls echoed through the open, empty space. With dusk coming on, it was eerie and cold.
There were no furnishings apart from two single high back chairs that sat facing each other and a solitary man. He was standing, facing out into the yard, lost in thought. He was tall, broad shouldered, with pale blond hair cut short and styled carefully. Hearing our steps, the man spun around. My knees buckled, and I reached out to grab hold of the chair as I sank down into it, my eyes unable to look away.
His eyes went wide as he looked at me, and the colour leached from his face.
“Luka,” he rasped. “Who…”
Luka stepped further into the room, and standing to our right, he folded his arms. “Eric. I’d like you to meet Quinn Salisbury. Quinn, this is my right hand man, Eric Donovan.”
Eric stumbled towards the chair opposite me and sank into it. We sat there facing each other like two mirror images. His hair was the same shade as mine, his brown eyes large in his face, his lips full and soft, his skin fair and smooth. Despite the obvious muscle and wide shoulders, he was pretty, his features feminine.
“I-I don’t understand,” I stuttered.
Eric sat reeling. “Beth,” he whispered. “Beth Salisbury.”
“That’s my mother,” I told him. I wanted to add that mother was a loose term, but under the circumstances, it didn’t really seem the best time to start explaining her fetish for vodka and money.
“Oh my God,” he moaned. The hands he rested on his thighs dug in until his knuckles turned white. “She told me she had an abortion. I didn’t want her to do it, but we were so young and then she moved away. God, that was a lifetime ago.”
“Y-you…you’re my…” This was the second time today that my world had been flipped upside down, and I didn’t think I was coping overly well. A hysterical giggle bubbled out of me that turned into a sob. I swallowed it with effort and forced my eyes from Eric to Luka. Luka was smirking at the both of us. “He’s my father?”
I faced Eric. “You’re my father?”
Eric reached out, his eyes on the butterfly tape on my forehead. I flinched backwards.
“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Beth and I… She was my girlfriend back in high school. We were only together for three months but I… I dumped her.” He swallowed and closed his eyes briefly before opening them again. “I didn’t realise until after that the feelings she had for me were so much more. I-I think I broke her heart. We were only sixteen.” His eyes pleaded for me to understand. “Young and stupid, that was me, but when she came to me and told me she was pregnant, I said I’d support her. She…she told me not to bother and she was getting rid of it. ‘It’ she called the baby. She sounded so cold and so determined that I believed her. She was only sixteen too, so I didn’t feel like I had any right to force her to keep the baby. I went round to her place almost every night, but she wouldn’t talk to me, and then one day she was gone. Just like that. I had no idea…” he trailed off, his eyes unfocused and lost. “How…how old are you?”