21. Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One

Michael

My head was jerked up painfully by my hair, and I groaned, consciousness slamming into me.

Callum!

Where was he? Was he all right?

The pain in my head wasn't the agonizing pain from being separated by Callum, so he had to be close.

Blinking my eyes open, I flinched at the single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. I was sitting on a metal hard back chair, my ankles bound together. My hands were also bound behind my back, but when I tried wiggling my fingers, I felt warm flesh. Callum. He must be tied behind me, but there was no movement when I touched his hand again.

There were two strangers standing on either side of me, both armed with handguns pointed at me. What I could see of the room we were being held in was concrete, empty except for the chairs we were bound to. There was a gray metal door directly in front of my line of vision, closed to the outside.

"Boss isn't gonna be happy about the extra baggage we brought," one said to the other.

"Yeah, well, he'd be less happy about witnesses. He was with the lawyer, so he might be involved. Either way, he's here now. Nothing to be done about it."

"Who are you?" My voice cracked, and I swallowed against the dryness of my throat. There was something dried on my face. I could feel it when I spoke. It tugged at my skin uncomfortably and I remembered my head had been bleeding.

We'd been hit, from two sides. The car had spun, but we'd been alive. I remembered Callum had been alive. Then he had been pulled from the car, my head had exploded, and that was the last thing I remembered.

"Doesn't matter who we are," Goon Two snarled. "You'll find out when the boss gets here."

"Marcone?" I groaned, subtly pulling on the bindings on my wrist. There was no give in them, but there was the tiniest bit of movement from Callum's hand.

The door opened and as if summoned by my saying his name, Francesco Marcone stepped through the door, closing it with a bang behind him. There was no movement from Callum at the noise. Not even a twitch.

Marcone smiled at me, smoothing a hand down his tailored, three-piece suit, then over his impeccably styled hair. "Mr. Endicott, you're becoming a problem for me."

"Sorry." My tone dripped with sarcasm.

"I thought you'd gotten my messages when I was told you had stepped back from working on the case against me," Marcone informed me, looking at his fingernails and then polishing them against his suit jacket.

"Messages?" I croaked.

He gave me a cold smile, "Yes. The little accident you had on the sidewalk. The fire in your building. Oh, and let's not forget the jurors that were more than happy to be paid off. Along with a couple of judges. People are so easily swayed by money. You had a very bad day that day, didn't you?"

Mind racing, I glared at him. "That was you! Not…" I'd been about to say not the spell , and caught myself before I let the words slip out.

He shrugged, "Imagine my…disappointment when I learned you had just taken a couple of weeks' leave. I decided to just put a hit out on you and get you out of my business, once and for all. When no one could locate you, we had to settle for getting rid of your colleague that stepped in while you were gone. Shame too, pretty girl that one. It was just a stroke of luck that one of my men spotted you tonight at that club."

Noticing there was another body tied to me for the first time since he stepped in the room, Marcone turned angry eyes on his lackeys. "Who the fuck is that?"

Goon One shrugged, "Don't know. Was with the lawyer so we brought him along."

"You said no witnesses." Goon Two reminded, and was met with Marcone's piercing gaze.

"Yet you kidnapped a prosecuting attorney and his what? Boyfriend? In plain sight of street cams and tons of witnesses in passing traffic? You shot at those witnesses, who had probably already dialed 9-1-1. What you left was another mess for me to clean up."

"You need to hire better help," I observed, running my finger over what I thought was Callum's palm, but I couldn't be sure. All I knew was that I was touching him, and his skin was warm, which had to be a good sign. When his pinky finger curled around mine, my heart nearly exploded with relief.

Marcone turned his attention to me, his dark brown eyes narrowed. "What I need is for ambitious attorneys to keep their noses out of my business affairs."

"What's the end game here?" I demanded, and Callum's finger jerked around mine, but that was the only movement from him. "Getting rid of me won't stop the shit storm coming down the pipe for you. They'll just replace me with someone else. They already have." I tried not to think about Shelby's fate, praying she was being held somewhere too.

"It might not stop it," Marcone smiled grimly, "but it will send them a message. You and your colleague both turning up dead will give them pause. Maybe get them to look the other way. Not to mention the added bonus of your boyfriend. An innocent bystander. People go nuts when an innocent person winds up in the crosshairs, don't they?"

"Yes, boss," Goon One responded, even though I was pretty sure the question was directed at me.

Marcone glared the man into submission. Goon One stepped back, his hands clasped behind his back and was smart enough to keep his mouth shut after that.

"Let Callum go," I didn't even try to keep the desperation from my voice. I would beg if I needed to. I would beg for Callum's life. "He has nothing to do with any of this. He's innocent. Do what you want to with me, but I'm begging you, let him go."

Marcone moved closer to me, his face impassive. He stared at me, eyes narrowed, and I didn't blink as the man assessed me.

The barest of smiles crossed his face, "You love him."

It wasn't a question, just a statement that I couldn't deny.

"I do. "

As I said the words, the truth of it hit me.

I loved Callum.

I wasn't sure when it had happened, but I was one hundred percent in love with him. It was ridiculously soon–too soon–but it had happened, and I wouldn't change it for anything. Couldn't if I wanted to. Which I didn't.

Marcone bent close to my ear, and I willed myself not to flinch away from him. "And you're going to die together."

Loud banging erupted around us, echoing off the metal walls. It surrounded us, coming from every direction.

Marcone straightened, turning to his henchmen. "What the fuck is that? Did you not secure the woman?"

"She's secure," Goon Two nodded, his hands coming up to cover his ears over the clanging booms.

Marcone jerked his head towards the door. "Well, go check it out!"

They scurried out, guns drawn. A minute later, one of them yelled, "Boss! You might want to come check this out!"

Marcone pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing audibly, before following his men, slamming the door behind him.

Callum's pinky tightened around mine, and I turned my head, trying to see him.

"Callum?" I whispered. Doubtful he would be able to hear me over the deafening noise all around us .

Nothing. No response. My heart sped up, fear filling me. Maybe his finger was nothing more than a muscle jerk.

My bindings slipped away, falling to the floor, and I nearly fell out of my chair at the suddenness of my freedom. Breathing hard, I stood, rushing around to where he still sat, head tipped towards his chest, tangled black hair falling forward and covering his face.

Kneeling down, I pulled at the bindings on his ankles. They slid through my fingers onto the cement floor, and I did the same with the bindings on his wrists. Bringing his arms down to his sides, I rubbed his hands, then up to his elbows and down again.

"Baby? Can you hear me?"

He was so still, hadn't moved at all, and worry flooded my body. He hadn't acknowledged he was free, or that I was touching him. I had no idea how the bindings had come free, but if I had learned anything the last two weeks it was to no longer question things I couldn't explain.

Callum finally moved, his head tilting up, and I brushed his hair out of his face. His glasses were askew on his nose, but otherwise miraculously intact. Fixing them tenderly, I looked him over.

There was dried blood on the side of his face, but otherwise he looked unharmed.

His beautiful green eyes were dull though, exhaustion shining from them. He slumped towards me, resting his head against my chest. Rubbing circles on his back, I wondered what our next move should be to get us out of here. Marcone and his men weren't going to be occupied forever with whatever was happening out there.

"I did it," he whispered, his voice ragged and rough. "It worked. My spells worked."

Realization dawned on me, and I kissed the top of his head. "You did, baby. You broke our restraints. You freed us."

"Not…just…that." He sounded exhausted, on the verge of collapse even.

The noise. The distraction. Had he caused it, or was he controlling it? Whatever magic he had used had taken a physical toll on him.

"Just need…a minute," he mumbled.

I wasn't sure if we had a minute, especially when the clamoring noise abruptly stopped, and eerie silence fell around us.

Glancing around the bare room frantically, I knew there was nowhere for us to hide, no place for us to go.

Running footsteps got closer and I was afraid that what Callum had done had been for naught. Tilting his chin up, I brushed a kiss over his lips. "I love you."

He smiled weakly but there was a light shining from his tired eyes, "I know."

"You heard me tell Marcone?" It wasn't the way I had dreamed the first time I told a romantic partner I loved them would go, but at least I knew he was aware of my feelings. Especially since I didn't know if we were going to make it out of here alive.

"No," he gave me a lopsided smile, "I knew when you broke the spell. The bad luck one that little twat placed on you. I don't think I have the energy to try to break the binding one right now though."

"Broke the…" The footsteps were closer now, just outside the door, and I knew we were out of time.

"You begged him to let me go," Callum swallowed, his green eyes glistening. "You put me before your own life. And I love you too, Michael."

The doorknob rattled as it turned, and my heart pounded in my ears.

Gunshots rang out, making us both jerk. Grabbing Callum, I dragged him to the floor, covering his body with my own.

"Boston police department!" A voice I didn't recognize yelled from somewhere outside the door, "Put your hands up, Marcone!"

There were more shots fired, and then the door burst open, hitting the wall with a bang. Lifting my head, my eyes met Derek's worried ones, his chest covered by a black tactical vest. Relief flooded my body, and I sagged against Callum's back.

"It's over, baby," I whispered, "It's over."