A Loaded Gun

Chapter 38

Brooke POV

I assumed night had passed, as new guards had replaced the grumpy mutts previously standing in front of my cell.

I watched as Molly again came into the darkness, carrying the same bland oatmeal cement I had yesterday.

Unlike yesterday, though, she paused and spoke quietly to the guards, snapping when they hesitated before walking off.

"Listen, I don't have a lot of time," she said frantically.

"What the hell are you doing here Molly?" I hissed, angry and confused.

"My dad...is part of the organization," she said vaguely.

"What organization? Where the hell am I? Who is Richard besides my rapist?" she flinched at my last word but shook it off.

"Look, I'm gonna get you out of here. I can try to sneak you a knife or something, but it's going to take time. I–"

"Get me a gun," I interrupted. She stared at me, confused. "There's no way I can sneak a gun through here," she hissed.

"Bring it in pieces," I said, remembering the first lesson Daniel had given me. "I'll take it from there."

She hesitated, but jerked her head in a nod and whispered, "They're coming back. Whatever they say or do to me, don't react."

I frowned, completely bewildered by those words. What would they do to her? She rushed out of the cell, closing the door and turning around quickly.

The guards entered, flanking a tall figure. Richard. Molly let out a small whimper and inched away, but not fast enough. A hand lashed out, gripping her wrist hard enough to bruise.

"Well, darling, what's this? Why did you send my guards away?" His voice was pleasant, but I had heard that particular tone often enough to know that what would follow wouldn't be pretty.

"I...I wanted to give her her food alone," she said uneasily. "She didn't eat it yesterday because the guards were looking at her funny, and I know you said to make sure she ate, so I wanted to give her the opportunity to eat."

His face unperturbed, he backhanded her across the face without a second thought. 

"Oh my dear, I'm disappointed," he cooed in almost a compassionate voice. "With who your father is, I would think you would be a better liar. Come, I'll take you back to your room."

She flinched but obeyed, walking shakily after him and leaving me with the guards. I stared at her retreating figure, worried for her safety. What was he going to do to her?

The guards snarled at me, telling me in no uncertain terms to eat the cement oatmeal or face the consequences.

However much I wanted to throw the stupid bowl in their faces, I knew it wasn't worth the beating that would come after. I needed to save my strength for the gun.

That night, I watched as Molly came into the dungeon, walking with a noticeable limp. I had to hold back a gasp at her face; both eyes were black and her lip was split.

I didn't dare to talk to her as she set down the tray, looking pointedly at the bowl of oatmeal.

Despite her injuries, she sent me a small smile before leaving the cell.

I took the bowl off the tray and tried not to squeal from delight when I saw a small metal component hiding underneath it. Thank you, Molly.

I managed to find an indentation in the wall behind me and hid the piece there.

Several days passed, I think, each food tray coming with another piece of a gun. Sometimes it was under the bowl, sometimes inside it depending on the size.

Hopefully the remnants of oatmeal I couldn't wipe off wouldn't make a difference in its functionality once it was put together.

It was a b!tch to put together, but I think I was close to being done. Just a few more pieces.

I heard footsteps and quickly hid the gun in the crevice, cringing as Richard came into view.

No one had bothered me for a while; sometimes when I made too much noise the guards came in and beat me up a bit, but they seemed to be scared to do any more than that.

"My teardrop," his voice purred. "You're looking well, my dear. Ready for the main event?"

"As soon as you tell me what it is," I said strongly, trying to hide the fact that I was screaming inside.

"You, my teardrop, are about to have the honor of being my wife," he smirked.

I managed to go however long I've been here without throwing up, but the thought of being tied to this disgusting bastard in any way made me lose all the cement I had eaten that morning.

He tsked, whipping out a handkerchief and wiping a speck of regurgitated oatmeal off his fancy shoe. "Now, now, my teardrop. I hope you won't have the same reaction on our wedding night. I promise to make it special for you."

If there had been anything left in my stomach it would have escaped immediately.

"When exactly is our...wedding?" I managed to choke out the word, internally gagging at the thought.

"In two days, my teardrop. Be ready," he smiled before spinning on his heel and leaving.

I needed to talk to Molly. By any means necessary.

Marcus POV

"We're closing in on him, Capo."

"Not fast enough," I snarled. I was close to losing it; my sister had been missing for over an entire f*cking week and we still hadn't found her.

Meanwhile, Daniel had to be kept constantly sedated. He lost his f*cking mind when Brooke was taken, and if we didn't get her back I didn't think he'd ever be the same.

"He keeps his location concealed, but we got an inside tip that he'll be exposed in two days. That's the best time to strike."

Could Brooke make it another two days? If we moved too soon, he could get spooked and completely disappear.

I hesitated, something I never do, especially in front of my men, running possibilities through my mind.

This Richard obviously had some sort of sick attachment to my sister, so theoretically she wouldn't be dead. I'd take deeply hurt over definitely dead any day.

"We move in two days."