I push up, ignoring my sore wrists and throbbing head, and search for a bathroom. The first door in the hallway is open. I rush in, shut the door behind me, and try to find the lock. Dammit! No lock.
Panic and fear collect in my stomach, sending me to the toilet on my knees. I gag and cough, arching my back with every painful heave. Bile-flavored spit coats my dry mouth, making me retch harder. The smell of my own blood flips my stomach again. A violent heave rocks my body until my stomach surrenders. I try to catch a breath, allowing the tears to fall freely. I sob with my head resting on the toilet seat. My hand does a quick search of my pockets for my phone. I knew it wouldn’t be there, but desperation has me grasping anyway. I’m stuck. Out of options.
What’s going to happen to me?
Thirty-one
Jonah
“Open the door!”
Nothing. I knock harder.
“Dude, calm down. You’re gonna scare the piss out of her.” Blake’s leaning against the brick wall outside Milena’s house while I bang the fucking door down.
I pound wood again. “Milena. Open up!”
Blake’s expression sours with disapproval. “Yeah, Milena. Open up for the enormous scary guy beating the shit out of your door.” He tacks an eye roll onto his sarcasm.
Shit. He’s right, but we’re running out of time. Dominick has my girl, and she could be getting farther away with every minute that passes. They could be in fucking Mexico by now.
After leaving the arena, we went straight to Raven’s place. We let ourselves in with the spare key I kept after having her door replaced. It didn’t take long for us to find what we were looking for. Who knew an old bank statement would mean more than the Title belt. Finding that felt like winning the lottery and being the first man on the moon all wrapped up into one. The address on that statement led us here.
Milena. She’s our only hope. If this doesn’t work, I don’t know what else to do but go to the police. And if Dominick finds out, which he will with all the moles he’s got planted in the department, Raven’s as good as dead.
Resolve thickens my blood and brings my fist back to the door. I hold it back and breathe. Calm. Just one minute of her time is all I need. I flex my fist and knock lightly.
Nothing.
I swear to shit if she doesn’t open this motherfucking door, I will bust the fucker down and drag her ass out. Ah, hell. So much for calm.
“Milena, it’s Jonah. I’m. . . ” I squint against the vicious buzz pounding in my head. “He’s taken her. Do you know where he would have gone with her?” My forehead rests against the door. “I need to find her tonight. Just, please, open the door.” Seconds of silence feel like hours. What am I going to do?
A click of a lock jolts me back. The door cracks open. Milena’s eyes are cautious as she peers out just beneath the protective chain. My breath catches in my throat. She looks so much like Raven. I rub my chest to squelch the burn.
“He took her?” Her voice is soft and carries the hint of a Latin accent.
“Yes. From the arena.”
She stares through me with unfocused eyes.
“I need to know where he might have taken her. Anywhere you think he might be. Addresses would be great, but a general vicinity is fine too.”
She blinks and meets my eyes. “Come in.”
The door closes enough to unhook the chain and opens slowly. I walk in with Blake at my heels. Milena’s eyes widen when she sees I’m not alone.
Before I can introduce Blake, he’s in her space.
“I’m Blake.” He extends his hand to her. She places her small hand in his, but locks eyes on me. I nod.
Her shoulders drop along with her eyes. “Milena.” Her apprehension isn’t unexpected. I imagine working for a man like Dominick hasn’t instilled much trust in men.
“We’re going to need your help in getting our girl back. You up for that?” Blake must’ve come to the same conclusion, his voice the equivalent of kid gloves.
“Mm-hm.” She nods and Blake releases her hand.
As crude as he can be, the guy has a side that evokes trust, especially in women.
“Please, sit down.” She motions to a couch in the living room. We head in, but I’m too antsy to sit.
I survey my surroundings, surprised by the lack of hominess. The house I grew up in has family photos all over the place, along with knickknacks picked up from family vacations and trophies won by my sister or me. This place feels more like the waiting room of a doctor’s office than a home. Cheap, decorative art hangs on the walls, matching throw pillows arranged on a couch that looks like it’s never been sat on. And Raven grew up here? My chest cramps.
“Milena, I know you don’t know me.”
She backs into the couch and sits, her hands obsessively picking at the hem of her sweater.
“But, I’m in love with your daughter. I need to get to her. I can’t call the police—”
“No.” Her eyes focus on me, her one word confirming that the police won’t do shit.