Chapter 13

THIRTEEN

SALEM

A s the minutes ticked by, each one stretching into an agonizing eternity, I couldn't help but curse my decision to come to New Orleans. What had been pitched to me as a chance to mend alliances had devolved into a nightmare of betrayal and deceit. So here I stood, bound and helpless in the fanciest torture room I'd ever had the misfortune of setting foot in. From what I could tell, I was in one of the many rooms of the plantation the New Orleans Triad leaders called home.

Plastic sheeting lined the pristine floor because heaven forbid they got it messy with the blood of their victims. The room exuded an air of opulence in spite of the sinister purpose for which it was used. It was an indication of the twisted priorities of those who sought to break me. Soft, muted lighting cast a warm glow over the space, lending an eerie tranquility to my imprisonment. The walls were adorned with intricate tapestries and ornate paintings, their rich colors something to focus on each time the torturing commenced.

Three days ago, I had emerged victorious from the high-stakes poker game. Sadly, my triumph was short-lived as I was swiftly ambushed and dragged into hellish confinement. Atticus Boudreaux, one of the leaders of the New Orleans Triad, had ordered my capture, his motives initially murky although I had been starting to put two and two together.

My own father, Massimo, had orchestrated my downfall with chilling precision. Discovering my attempts to undermine him and his criminal empire, he had devised a sinister plan to rid himself of the thorn in his side. Under false pretenses, he dispatched me to New Orleans, where he had arranged for Atticus to have me killed.

I hadn't believed it at first when Atticus told me during my first torture session. But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. My father wasn't above having me captured, but that could backfire on him, especially if he knew about my relationship with the heirs. He wouldn't risk the backlash. Having someone else do it for him though? That was just my father's style. I knew he didn't like Atticus, so he must have traded something for the favor.

But Triad men shouldn't be trusted. And Atticus Boudreaux was a Triad man with his own agenda and allegiances. So, while my father sought my disposal, Atticus saw an opportunity—a chance to exploit my knowledge of the inner workings of the NYC Triad for his own gain. It was a cruel twist of fate, one that left me ensnared in a tangled web of deceit and treachery.

I had endured relentless interrogations and torment over the last three days while they tried to pry secrets from me. They sought to break me, to strip away every last sign of my strength and resilience until there was nothing left but a hollow shell of the woman I once had been. But they didn't know that I'd done this all before. I'd lived through these unspeakable acts before. My body being battered and bruised, yeah, I was familiar with that.

Atticus was a fool if he thought he could control me. I would not be so easily subdued.

I took a slow, deliberate breath and took stock of my injuries with grim determination. My body felt like a battleground, every inch of skin marred by the cruel touch of my captors. Bruises bloomed across my flesh, their colors shifting from purple to blue to sickly yellow, each one a stark reminder of that fucking cattle prod that leaned against the wall opposite me. My wrists throbbed with a persistent ache, the sharp bite of metal restraints digging into my skin with every movement, leaving angry red welts in their wake. I had a few strategically placed stab wounds and was missing a few fingernails, but I'd bounced back from much worse. And despite the pain, despite being chained to the wall, I refused to succumb to despair.

Instead, I focused my mind on getting out of here before my situation got even worse. I examined every weakness, every detail, with meticulous precision. My gaze swept over the room, and

with each passing moment, I formulated a plan, plotting my escape with careful deliberation. I knew that my captors would continue their torture, but I refused to cower in fear.

When they finally returned, as I knew they inevitably would, I would be ready. I would bide my time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, and would use every weapon at my disposal.

With a defiant snarl, I strained against my restraints, my body aching with effort as I tried to loosen their hold on me.

As the door swung open with a soft creak, my pulse quickened with a mixture of dread and anticipation. Atticus strode into the room, his presence looming like a dark cloud over my already tenuous existence.

"How are you feeling today, Salem?" he drawled, his voice dripping with malice.

I met his gaze with a steely glare, refusing to cower. "Cut the theatrics, Atticus," I retorted, my voice laced with venom. "You brought me here for a reason. Let's get to it."

A cruel smirk marred his face as he circled me like a predator sizing up its prey. "You're a feisty one, aren't you?" he mused, his eyes gleaming with sadistic amusement. "We could've had so much fun together. But it seems today is your lucky day."

I gritted my teeth against the surge of fury that threatened to consume me, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me react. "You made a deal with my father," I hissed with disdain. "But you underestimate me if you think I'll go down without a fight."

Atticus's laughter echoed through the room, a chilling sound that sent shivers down my spine. "Oh, I have no doubt you'd put up a good fight," he conceded, his tone mocking. "But like I said, today is your lucky day. Your little friend here has made a compelling case for your release."

Confusion swirled in my mind like a thick fog as I tried to make sense of his cryptic words. I furrowed my brow in bewilderment, turning to him with a mixture of suspicion and disbelief. "What are you talking about?"

Before Atticus could respond, the heavy wooden door creaked open, and my heart skipped a beat as two guards parted to reveal Fallon standing in the doorway. My jaw dropped in disbelief. No. No, she couldn't be here in this room full of monsters. "Fallon? What the fuck are you doing here?" I blurted out, unable to conceal my shock.

Fallon merely offered me a reassuring smile, her expression betraying none of the tension that coiled in my stomach like a serpent. "It's okay, Salem. I've got it sorted," she replied enigmatically, her tone strangely composed.

I opened my mouth to press her for answers, to demand an explanation, but she cut me off with a dismissive wave of her hand, turning her attention back to my captor. "Release her, Atticus."

He merely shook his head in response, a condescending smirk playing on his lips. "Not until you hold up your end of the bargain, my dear," he chided with glee. ″I've given you proof of life; now it's time to pay the piper.″

Before I could protest, Fallon was ushered out of the room by the guards, leaving me alone once more with Atticus and his ominous presence. I watched helplessly as the door swung shut behind her. Atticus gave me one more sick smile before he followed her, leaving me alone once again.

What the fuck had Fallon agreed to in exchange for my freedom?

Apart from being silently escorted to the restroom by a guard, I had been alone since Atticus and Fallon departed. Thankfully, upon my return to the room, the guard left me unrestrained, allowing me to move freely within its confines. I looked for the cattle prod but disappointed when I realized it was gone. That could have come in handy.

Since my return, a sense of restless energy had coursed through my veins, urging me to seize the opportunity and make a break for freedom. But as tempting as the idea was, I couldn't bring myself to act on it, not when I knew Fallon was somewhere within the confines of the plantation. The thought of putting her at risk by attempting to escape gnawed at me like a persistent ache, and I couldn't bear the idea of jeopardizing her safety.

So, instead, I paced the length of the room, my footsteps softly wrinkling the plastic sheeting as I wrestled with my conflicting emotions. As the hours stretched on, my resolve wavered, my mind consumed by a relentless cycle of doubt and uncertainty. What if Fallon had put herself in danger to secure my release? What if my refusal to escape condemned us both to a fate worse than death? The questions swirled in my mind like a tempest, threatening to consume me whole.

But even amid the storm of doubt, one thing remained clear: I would do whatever it took to keep Fallon safe, even if it meant sacrificing my own chance at freedom.

As the first light of dawn began to filter through the gap under the door, signaling the approach of a new day, I finally heard movement outside the room. With bated breath, I waited in tense anticipation, my heart pounding with a mixture of apprehension and hope.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the heavy wooden door creaked open, revealing the weary figure of Fallon standing on the threshold. Her green eyes met mine, and in that moment, I could see the exhaustion etched into the lines of her face. Without a word, she beckoned for me to follow her, her voice soft as she uttered, "Time to go home."

Relief flooded through me at her words, mingled with gratitude for her unwavering loyalty. But as we made our way out of the plantation, questions nagged at the back of my mind, threatening to burst forth at any moment. What had Fallon promised, or perhaps even given, to Atticus in exchange for my release? It was something I longed to ask, yet I hesitated, unwilling to risk pushing Fallon away with my inquiries.

In silence, we left the plantation, our footsteps echoing softly against the cold floor. Outside, the early morning air was cool and crisp, a welcomed respite from the suffocating confines of the room I had been held in. We emerged into the dim light of dawn, and a waiting cab stood sentinel, its engine humming in anticipation of our departure.

With weary relief, I climbed into the backseat beside Fallon, and as we pulled away from the plantation, I reflected on how lucky I was to have a friend like her in my corner.

The cab ride to the hotel passed in a blur of city lights and soft jazz from the radio. Fallon and I exchanged little more than a few nods and murmured assurances, our minds preoccupied with the events of the past few days. But as soon as we arrived at the hotel, the urgency of our situation snapped us into action.

"You nearly finished packing?" Fallon urged as she tossed clothes haphazardly into her suitcase. "We need to get out of here before anyone realizes we're gone."

I nodded in agreement, my movements brisk as I stuffed my belongings into my bag. With each item I packed, the pain from my injuries became more and more prominent.

Once our bags were ready, Fallon pulled me aside, her expression serious as she outlined her plan for our safe return home. "I had Lennox arrange for a flight that won't attract any unwanted attention," she explained, her tone low and measured. "We'll be in and out before Massimo finds out that Atticus let you live."

Relief swept through me at her words, mingled with a lingering unease at the risks she had taken on my behalf. "Thank you, Fallon," I murmured, my voice thick with gratitude. "I don't know what I would do without you."

Fallon offered me a small smile in return, her gaze steady as she met my eyes. "We're in this together, Salem," she said firmly. "Now, there's something else I need you to do for me."

I furrowed my brow in confusion, my curiosity piqued by the seriousness of her tone. "Anything. What is it?"

Fallon hesitated before speaking, her words measured as she explained her request. "I need you not to tell my brothers or the others about my involvement in your release. Tell them that you gave Atticus the names of Massimo's contacts in New Orleans. Please, I can't have them knowing about the deal I made."

I opened my mouth to protest, to demand answers to the questions that had been gnawing at me since our escape. But Fallon silenced me with a gentle touch on my arm, her expression softening.

"I promise I'll explain everything to you," she said earnestly. "But not today. Right now, we need to focus on getting home and staying safe."

I nodded in agreement, relief washing over me as I realized that she was right. "Of course," I replied, my voice filled with understanding. "Whatever you need."

Fallon had had my back through it all, and if I had to tell a little lie to repay that, then so be it.