Frowning, I dare not have asked where we were going, or where he was taking me. My mind raced as I tried to think a logical reason he was taking me there.
Perhaps he was hungry.
No, stupid Ella.
Perhaps he had something to say he didn't want the cameras to see or hear. I didn't like that idea much either.
Releasing my arm, I rubbed the bruised area, he swiftly pushed me inside the kitchen, sliding the wooden doors closed.
Fear was an incredible thing. The whole fight or flight thing. I never chose either of these options, and my instinct was to freeze; hardly a survival instinct, is it?
"Do you know where you're going?" His dark, menacing voice asked behind me.
He was so close. The warmth of his breath caused my wet hair to become colder.
I shivered. "No, Marco."
His heavy footsteps hit the floor, his body moved around mine, and he stopped dead in front of me, resting his hip on the island. I'd forgotten how dominating his presence was, not in a good way. Not the way Jax's was. It pained me to admit it, perhaps it was the traumatizing string of events confusing my mind, but there was a considerable difference between them. With the strange new Murdoch, huddled in his lap, with his arms around me, I'd never felt anything like it.
With Marco, however, his bulging muscles, impressive height, and the knowledge of what he did to me made him terrifying. Why hadn't I seen the darkness in him before? Reaching into the back of his pants, he pulled out a knife. He spun the handle, pressing the tip of it against his finger, and I watched, with my organs shaking as blood popped from the tiny wound.
"Marco, please tell me what's happening."
He sighed, smiling still. "I can imagine you're rather confused, Elle."
I cringed every time he called me that.
"Look, I don't wanna be the bad guy, alright? But your husband brought me back for a reason."
Turning his back on me, he walked over to the pantry, an enormous cupboard filled to the brim with groceries. The gun he carried was nothing like I'd ever seen before. It reminded me of something the Military would use, so many different bolts, levers, and attachments. It ensured I didn't move a muscle.
Opening the cupboard door, I watched what he did, each tiny movement as his thick body shuffled amongst the tins and packets of food. "Where the goddamn is it?" His voice asked the darkness. There was shuffling, the clanging of metal as it hit the floor, plastic packaging crackling, the only noise above his grunts, and then there was a click. A loud click. "Ah, there we go!"
My senses sprung into high alert. Perhaps I could outrun him, spin around and run for Vladimir, the bedroom, hell even Jax at this point. Whatever Marco had found inside an otherwise innocent pantry, wasn't going to be anything pleasant.
There were two doors to the right of his position, could I escape from here? I doubt it.
Shuffling backward, my fingers stretched, searching for the door. When they met nothing but space, my brow pulled inward. Marco was still rearranging things inside the pantry, and I kept shuffling, bare feet silent against the concrete.
His quick movements had me stopping in my tracks, just as my fingertips brushed against a wall.
Dark eyes, menacing eyes so different from those of Jax's, smirked at me. I'd never seen a look like it.
My chest throbbed painfully as my wounds bled, the ripped skin burnt like wildfire, and for a moment, the dizziness threaten to floor me.
Waving a finger, Marco spoke. "Come here, beautiful." He swung the gun to his front, and I shook, violent tremors making it near impossible to talk.
"Where are you taking me?" I stammered.
Rolling his eyes in pity, he said, "Oh, Elle. You've embarrassed your husband."
His words made no sense, just a jumble of noise swirling around my skull. What on earth was he talking about?
"Now, come. The. Fuck. Here. Do. Not make me put a bullet between those pretty blues before you've even tried to save yourself."
I didn't want to move. I didn't want to know where Marco was leading me, but what else could I do? No matter where I ran to, it'd only be a matter of time before someone else found me.
And so, I moved, fighting the warring emotions and pain inside of me and on the surface, and just prayed he wasn't taking me to the cells.
"Good girl." He smiled as I reached him.
With a firm grip, he yanked on my arm, pulling me into, what I had always thought was, the pantry, and it didn't take my eyes very long to see what was hidden inside.
I looked down into a dark abyss, a long flight of concrete stairs that led to nothing.
With another flick, Marco had switched the lights on, and my mouth was agape as I saw the large chained door at the foot of the steps.
Two padlocks crisscrossed over the door, and I cried. Whatever was inside of there was not going to be pretty.
On instinct, I tried to move back, but he pushed me forward.
"You'll thank us in the end, precious. Who knows, maybe you'll even see your girl again."
I spun around to look at him, and he raised an eyebrow.
"Only if you cooperate, though."
I cried again, a strangled, gargled noise. "Please, Marco, if you ever cared for me, please tell me what's down there?"
He smiled and refused to answer. Of course, I meant nothing to him; I'd been brave enough to tell Vladimir what happened. I could have had him killed.
Well, for all the good it did, I may as well have kept my mouth shut.
Taking a deep breath, and with Marco breathing down my neck, I crept down the stairs, my clothes were beginning to dry, but a chill coursed through me.
With each shaking step, I tried to imagine what would be waiting for me behind that threatening steel door. I thought I knew every nook and cranny of this mansion, and it turned out that Vladimir kept even more secrets than I'd thought.
We’d reached the bottom. Soon enough, I'd find out what awaited me.
Chapter Twelve
Jax
Watching that cunt drag Ella away after she'd been in my arms, after I'd felt her paling lips against mine was fucking hard. But would use would I be to her, to Carter and Amy if he put a bullet in my brain?
No.
I'd have to be smart.
And being smart when I was an outsider in enemy territory meant that being smart would be difficult.
The bedroom had seemed to grow smaller with each lap around it I made, my calf muscles ache, my knuckles turned red then white, and all I could see were her perfect blue eyes.
Just as the sun was breaking across the horizon, mine and Luca's conversation at the club hit me.
Grabbing my phone from the side table, I immediately dialed my father's number.
“Son,” he grumbled. I'd woken him. “Everything okay?”
I imagined him rubbing his eyes, slipping from beside my mother as she slept to creep into his study. Fuck. It's only been a damn day, and I wanted to leave.
“Haven't slept, but that's not why I've called.” Sipping the last of my scotch to soothe my throat, I continued. “The day before I left, I'd spoken to Luca. Word on the grapevine is that Amy was having an affair.”
Silence. Nothing but silence.
“Dad?”
He cleared his throat. “Sorry, son, that's just come as a bit of a shock. Those two were smitten and with the baby. Who told him this?”