Chapter 3

MINA

Gianni lowered his hands from me when we reached the top of the stairs. He stayed close while we moved through the house, his whole body on alert.

Upstairs was a different world from the basement. Hardwood floors and expensive-looking furniture. Art on the walls. Hooks for them, anyway. Several paintings lay on the floor as if they'd been pulled down and left in a hurry.

Reuben's doing, I presumed. What was he looking for here? Not me. That was obvious from the shock when he first saw me. Had they found what they'd come here for?

The answer became evident when another man met us at the door. He was taller than Reuben and Gianni, with lighter hair and a tighter expression.

"Nothing, boss," he said briskly. "If Lasalle was doing what we were told he was doing, he's not doing it from here." His gaze slid to me. His eyebrows knitted and his mouth drew back.

Reuben nodded. "We'll find something in the other locations. I want everyone to keep looking." He stepped out the front door, toward a dark coloured sedan which was parked at the curb. "And Damon, tell them I want Kurt Lasalle alive."

"On it, boss." Damon took out his phone and sent off a quick text before making his way to the driver's seat.

I stopped at the threshold and recoiled from the glare. From the look of the light, it was late afternoon, but it was a brighter light than I'd seen in years. With the exception of the torches on their phones. Those were brief, this was overwhelming.

I wiped tears from my eyes.

"Boss," Gianni called out.

Reuben opened the passenger door and reached inside. When he stepped back towards the house, he held out his hand to me.

I had to blink a couple of times to realise he held pair of sunglasses.

I took them, opened the arms and slid them onto my face. They were much too big for me, but they filtered the worst of the sunlight.

"Thank you." That was something I hadn't said in a long time. Something I hadn't had a reason to say.

"We've spent enough time here," was Reuben's inpatient reply before he returned to the car and slipped inside.

That was an understatement.

I followed Gianni to the car and climbed inside, grateful for the tinted windows, comfortable seat and carpet under my bare feet. This felt like luxury after the cramped, filthy cage.

Gianni got in on the other side and sat far enough away to give me space, but close enough that I couldn't ignore his presence.

I felt like an injured bird he'd found on the side of the road and put into a cardboard box to nurse back to life. Just like me and my brother Asher did when we were kids. Our eldest brother, Dane, always told us we were wasting our time, but sometimes the animals lived. Usually with the help of our sister, Rose. She always seemed to know the right things to do.

"I'd ask if you're okay, but we both know the answer," Gianni said, his voice low to keep the conversation between him and me. "You will be."

The look I gave him should have conveyed my scepticism. How can I possibly, ever be okay? Did I deserve to be?

I clicked my seatbelt and curled my legs up on the seat beside me. I carefully arranged the jacket to cover as much of me as possible. For a piece of fabric, it felt like armour between me and the world. Like somehow I could hide behind it. It wasn't about modesty so much as it was about having a wall around me, however flimsy.

Damon glanced over his shoulder, frowned briefly, but put the car in drive and headed into the city traffic.

Pressed down as low as I could get, I watched flashes of the city go past. Nothing I recognised. Either everything had changed, or I wasn't familiar with the area to start with.

Whatever it was, I could have been on an alien planet. Other cars, other people, nothing felt real. Life had gone on without me. People had continued to live theirs while mine was on pause.

"You must be wondering how we came to be in that house today, of all days," Gianni said.

I turned back to him. I had wondered that. If I was honest, I wondered why they weren't there sooner. Maybe they were and never had cause to look in the basement.

"So, Kurt Lasalle works for Reuben," Gianni went on. "In theory. Obviously he didn't have permission to keep a girl in his basement. If we knew that, we would have gotten you out of there ages ago."

It hadn't occurred to me they might have known I was there and just left me there. It should have. Men like these, they had no loyalty to someone like me. Just to themselves and to each other. Even then, loyalty wasn't assured. Everyone has their price, as my father used to say.

"Lately he's been getting into things he shouldn't be," Gianni added. "Overstepping his authority. We've heard from a reliable source that he's been operating a few side hustles on his own. And not paying his dues. Reuben doesn't like it when people do that."

That was a lot to unpack. First of all, reliable sources were hard to find in their line of work. Secondly, was the suggestion Reuben was in charge now.

"What about Reuben's father?" I asked.

"Dead," Gianni said simply. "Both of his parents. But that's a story for him to tell." He nodded toward Reuben, who'd turned his head, indicating he was listening.

Of course they were. The Brantley family had their share of enemies five years ago. It didn't surprise me someone took them out. It sounded as though there was more to it, but I didn't ask. Not now.

"So you came after Kurt?" I asked. "Thinking he was hiding something back there."

That would explain the paintings on the floor, and them breaking into the basement.

"He's definitely hiding something," Gianni said. "Apart from you, of course. Although, now we know about you, fuck knows how many other girls out there he has locked away."

That thought made the single piece of bread in my stomach threaten to come back up.

Of course at some point in the last five years, I'd wondered if I was the only one, but he never gave any indication there might be others. That didn't mean there weren't.

"We'll be searching all of his properties," Reuben said. "Thoroughly. And all of his contacts. Whatever he's hiding, we'll find it."

"I want to help," I said.

Reuben swivelled around in his seat to fix his ice blue eyes on me. "I'll consider it. When you're well enough."

Eighteen-year-old Mina might have argued with him, telling him she was perfectly capable of both helping and looking after herself.

The Mina of the present day, who could barely support her own body weight, just nodded slightly. There was little I could do apart from answer the questions if they asked any. Which they would. If it helped them to pin down Kurt, I'd tell them everything I knew. I was painfully aware that wasn't very much.

I leaned against the door beside me and closed my eyes. I didn't dare to doze here, but maybe someday I'd feel safe enough to sleep. Really sleep.

When I opened my eyes again, Gianni was watching me. He might give someone else the creeps with his intense stare, but he had an air about him. If I could trust anyone in this world, I could trust him.

Letting myself trust, that was another story. I was the little, broken bird in the cardboard box. Desperately wanting to fly, but needing to lie there under the old towel and gather my strength. Listening to kind words and careful gestures, but barely able to grasp that they could possibly apply to me.

I turned my gaze back outside the window.

"This must all seem strange to you," Gianni said. "It all seems strange to me too, and I haven't been through what you have."

I looked back at him, brow furrowed in question.

"You're wondering why I find it strange?" he guessed. "I suppose it's just that all of these people, living so close together, seems to me like a weird thing to do. People in general, I find their weirdness fascinating. I want to know why they do the things they do. Damon likes to tell me someday my curiosity will get me killed."

"It will," Damon said over his shoulder.

Gianni grinned. "See? But if there's any trouble, Damon is always the first to leap into it. Who do you think will get killed before whom?"

"Still you," Damon said. "I'm always careful."

Gianni cupped his hands around his mouth and whispered loudly. "No he's not. If he was careful, he'd stay home and knit."

Reuben snorted.

"Fucking knit," Damon muttered. "I don't know how to knit and neither do you."

Gianni chuckled. "It's so easy to get him going." He lowered his hands to his thighs.

"And that's why you'll get killed first," Damon said. "You'll piss off the wrong person and they'll shoot you."

"Are you threatening me?" Gianni looked completely unworried.

"Yes," Damon said. "Yes, I am. Can I shoot him, boss?"

"No," Reuben said simply. "Not today. Focus on what Lasalle is up to. Damon, have you spoken to his sister?"

"Ohhh, I wouldn't want to be Kurt when Daze finds out what he did to Mina," Gianni said. "We'll be lucky if she leaves his big toe behind for us to find."

When I looked questioningly again, he said, "Daisy Lasalle also works for Reuben, she's a bit of a badass, and she hates when men do bad things to women. When she learns about you, she's going to tear him a new one, brother or not. You're going to love her."

His description made me curious to meet her. Whether or not I'd love her remained to be seen. Was I capable of loving anyone? I wasn't sure but I was certain of one thing—it was impossible for anyone to love me. How could they after what I did?

Did they know about that? I supposed not, unless they left me alive so I could keep eating myself up with guilt.

"Not yet," Damon said, as if Gianni hadn't spoken. "You want me to go and see her, boss?"

"No," Reuben said. "Have her come to us. If she's working with her brother, I want to see it on her face. If she's complicit, she's dead."

"You think Daisy Lasalle is working behind your back?" Gianni asked.

"No, but blind trust gets people killed," Reuben said. He turned back to look at me. The message was clear. They'd been speaking very openly in front of me, but he wasn't sure if he could trust me to keep my mouth shut.

I looked back at him. Who would I tell? If he thought for a moment I was working with Kurt, he was out of his fucking mind. There was no one left for me to confide in.

Kurt had thoroughly enjoyed telling me when my parents and siblings died. He'd laughed while I sank further into despair. For a while, I thought one of them might come for me. When the last of them was gone, my hope went with it. I never expected to be found and freed by a Brantley. Especially not Reuben.

No, they could speak as openly as they wanted to. I wouldn't say a word to anyone.