The man who had caught her, grabbed her arm and dragged her toward the basement door. Madelyn searched every face in the bar for one person who would help—do something, anything. Speak up or call the police. Then she remembered, the person who now held her was a cop. Dear God, this could not be happening. All she wanted to do was find her sister.
Oleg stopped at the door and placed his hand on the middle of the cop’s chest. “Thanks for your help, Jackson,” he said. “I’ve got it from here.”
“Sure,” said Jackson, “no problem. I’m on duty soon, anyway.”
Jackson. Madelyn would never forget his name. She studied his face and memorized every detail—his height, six feet three inches, or maybe six foot four, athletic build, the exact shade of his blond hair. How his right eye was slightly bigger than his left, and one tooth on the bottom leaned a little on its neighbor. The more information she had, the better a description she could give later.
Oleg grabbed her arm, his fingers dug into her flesh. He pulled Madelyn across the threshold and the door closed with a crack. A thought snapped into place and her mouth went dry. None of these men had hidden their appearance. They weren’t worried about what she might say, because as far as they were concerned—she wasn’t leaving The Prow alive.
Madelyn yanked her arm free. Escape. Escape. Escape. Her fingertips brushed the cold, metal handle. Oleg grabbed her arm again, pulling her away. She pitched back. Her skull slammed into the stairs, turning everything dark and then filling her head with light and pain. Her feet flew up, sending her somersaulting downward. Her shoulder hit the concrete floor and her vision flashed with red. Her body ached with each beat of her heart.
“Madelyn.” Roman placed a strong hand under her elbow, helping her to sit up. “Madelyn, are you okay?”
She was as far away from okay as she could get. “What’s happening? Why is this happening?”
Roman lightly rubbed his hand over her shoulder. “She’s got nothing to do with us, Oleg. Let her go.”
“Nothing? She shows up and I find this.” Oleg reached into the interior pocket of his jacket and withdrew a small, plastic box. He knelt in front of Madelyn. “Who do you work for? How’d you get him to betray me?”
“I’ve never seen that thing before in my life. I don’t even know what that is. Roman?”
“She’s nobody, just a girl,” said Roman. “It’s me, all along, it’s been me.”
“Search them both.”
One of the thugs pawed through Madelyn’s purse and patted her roughly from shoulders to feet. From Roman, they got a set of keys from his pocket.
Oleg held the keys in his palm. “So, you use my own business to betray me? After I brought you in and gave you a job.” He threw the keys to one of the thugs. “Who turned you, Roman? It’s not the cops. Jackson would’ve told me.”
Roman helped Madelyn to her feet. She felt light-headed and sick to her stomach. She leaned into Roman for support.
“I’m not going to say anything until you let her go,” Roman said.
Oleg snorted. “I’m going to ask you once more—who got you to plant this thing?”
Roman wrapped his arm around Madelyn’s shoulder. “Let her go and I’ll tell you everything. She’s innocent, man. Just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Wrong place? Wrong time? Isn’t that the truth. She’s not leaving here, but I bet you’ll talk to make her death quick and painless.” Then to the thugs, he muttered, “Bring them into the office.”
“No. No. No. Please, let me go,” she begged. Like a mouthful of spoiled fruit, humiliation for having to plead left a rotten taste in her mouth. Yet what other choice did she have? She knew little of self-defense, and doubted that jabbing one of these men with her keys would do anything to change events. “I swear, I won’t say anything.”
“Go,” said Oleg.
“I’m not going into that office,” said Roman. “Neither is Madelyn.”
His words gave her enough resolve to disregard Oleg’s order.
Oleg hitched his chin to one of the thugs. He withdrew his gun and pressed the barrel into Madelyn’s temple. The metal was cold and hard.
Oleg said, “I’m tired of playing games. If her well-being matters to you, tell me what I want to know and she’ll die quickly. You have my word of honor.”
The thug released the safety of his gun with a click that was deafening.
“No, no, no,” she wept. There were so many things Madelyn had yet to do. She needed to finish med school. She needed to say goodbye to her parents. Her sister. “Please, Roman, help me.”
“Okay.” Roman held up his hands. “We’ll negotiate.”
“Call it what you want. Get into the room.”
The barrel bore a hole into Madelyn’s temple and she was shoved forward by the pressure of the gun.
A metal chair sat in the middle of the room. The thug pressed on her shoulder. “Sit.”
Her knees buckled and she sank to the chair. Fear made her useless, paralyzing her mind, her spirit and her body.
For a single second Madelyn was five and standing on the curb in front of her house, watching Ava run across the street as she headed to the park.
“Come on, Maddie,” Ava called.
Madelyn hesitated and looked toward the house. Her mother wasn’t there to either give her permission or forbid that Madelyn leave the yard. Without another thought, she bolted into the usually quiet street. Suddenly, there was the blare of a horn. The grille of an old pickup truck filled her vision and she froze with fear.
Madelyn tumbled to the pavement, landing on her back. The pickup truck screeched to a halt, the bumper well beyond where she’d been standing. Madelyn was in Ava’s grasp. In that moment, she knew that her sister had saved her life.
Yet as she felt the cold steel of the gun against her skull, she knew there
