Impossible Escape
1967 Words
Isabella POV
He towered over me. “Alright, baby. Time to get in the van.”
I didn’t care that the fight was unfair. I didn’t care if pushing myself any further sent me into cardiac arrest. I would crawl to the damn street if I had to.
“f**k. Off.” My arms trembled violently as I forced myself upright. My legs buckled immediately, but I kept moving, dragging myself forward inch by inch.
He gave a low whistle behind me. “Alirght I’ll admit it, you’re impressive. I’ve dropped men twice your size with this thing.”
He stalked after me at a casual pace, simply observing as I dragged myself away.
My fingers scraped the icy asphalt, nails cracking, skin burning with cold. If I could just stall long enough someone might pass by. Someone might see.
“I’ll tase you again, baby but this time, I can’t guarantee you’ll survive it.
“I’d rather die on the ground fighting than surrender to a piece of s**t like you.”
He stopped walking. I didn’t dare look back. I didn’t want to know whether that irritated him or if he found me entertaining again, I had no energy left for caring. All I could do was crawl.
Then lights flickered across the buildings. The faint wail of sirens cut through the frozen air.
Thank fucking God. “I’m here!” I screamed.
A patrol car skidded to the mouth of the alley. An officer stepped out, weapon raised ready to put a bullet in the monster behind me but the moment the cop saw my captor, everything changed.
His expression shifted fear? recognition? and he slowly lowered his gun. Without a word, he got back into the car. “No!”
I shoved myself onto my knees, flinging an arm wildly. “Help me!” The car pulled away. “No!”
I watched the taillights vanish, disbelief hollowing me out. Silence swallowed the street again, as if no one had ever been there.
The man knelt behind me, his knees pressing into my spine. His hand curled around my neck, lifting my chin so my eyes locked with his. He didn’t look triumphant.
He looked regretful, almost gentle. Then a sharp sting, a needle jammed into my neck and darkness swallowed me whole.
When I woke up, my cheek was pressed against a freezing window. I sat slumped in the van’s passenger seat, the engine rumbling beneath me. Snowy trees blurred past outside, the night pitch-black except for the headlights. The road was rough, jolting me with every bump.
My mind was slow, foggy from whatever he injected into me. Part of me wanted to sink back into unconsciousness until memory slammed back into place.
My captor, the alley and the body. I jerked upright.
We were deep in the wilderness, far from the city. Far from anyone who could help me, s**t this was bad.
My hands and ankles weren’t tied. A small crack of hope, I let my eyes drift, pretending to still be unconscious. If I waited for the perfect moment, maybe I could grab the wheel. Maybe I could force the van off the road. Maybe I’d break a bone.
Maybe he’d die and that would be beautiful. His deep voice disrupted the silence. “I know you’re awake, baby.”
Of course he did. The radio was off; only the hum of the engine and the shifting corpse in the back filled the air. I heard my purse slide with each turn too. God, if I could just reach it.
“Where are we?” I forced out. “Lake Riva.” My stomach dropped.
Northern Italy. Which meant we’d passed right by Varos’s home and Rhylen’s. If I’d stayed even one more night, if I’d taken a different route, if I’d done anything differently. I wouldn’t be on my way to a frozen lake where he could dump my body without witnesses.
“I’m not going to let you drown me in that lake.”
He gave an amused huff. “I don’t think you’re in a position to negotiate.” “For now,” I muttered. “But trust me, I will be.” His grin stretched slow and wide.
“I’ve never had a prisoner like you. The others cry. They beg, they don’t fight back. You’re an anomaly.”
“Because you don’t want to mess with me.” “Ironic,” he said. “Because you don’t want to mess with me either.”
He finally turned to glance at me. Even with his face hardened and guarded, he was unfairly handsome. Carved jawline, cold blue eyes, a face too perfect for the monster wearing it.
Men like him weren’t supposed to be serial killers. He could’ve had a normal life. A better life. “Why are you doing this?” I asked.
“You’re going to have to be more specific, baby.”
Ugh. I hated that word more each time he used it. “Why kill innocent men in dark alleys?”
“Who says he was innocent?” he shot back. “He might’ve been worse than me.”
“Because you took me,” I snapped. “And I’m pretty damn innocent.” A smirk curved his lips.
“You were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Innocent or not, I can’t let you walk away.”
“Why?” I demanded. “The police are terrified of you. Who could I possibly tell?”
His hand clenched tighter around the wheel. Frost crept across the window edges, the heater barely keeping up with the brutal cold.
“I know who you are, Isabella Conti,” he said. “And there are people far more dangerous than the police.”
A shock of cold shot through my vein, a new level of fear. I had prayed he didn’t know. Prayed he thought I was nobody.
Something had changed the moment he saw my ID in my purse. Once he recognized my surname, everything shifted.
If he let me go now, my family would erase him from existence. The Contis were more lethal than any police department and hknew it.
My palms grew slick despite the freezing temperature. Even if I could reach my phone, there was no chance of reception out here.
This was bad.
I’d barely escaped Rowan a month ago and now this. Only this man was worse, smarter, stronger and far more dangerous but that didn’t mean I’d stop trying.
My father had been so proud when I got away last time. The pride had been obvious on his face. I needed to earn that again.
I lunged across the console, grabbing the steering wheel. If I could jerk it hard enough, the van would slam into a snowbank or a tree. Even if it hurt me, it could kill him.
I wrenched the wheel left but his grip was iron.
He slammed his foot on the gas, sending the van flying down the icy road. He turned his head toward me, his expression something out of the underworld dark, fearless, mocking.
He kept the van perfectly straight with one hand. He dared me, he dared me to try again.
I yanked the wheel harder. His grip didn’t budge.
We hit ninety, ninety miles per hour on ice. If I kept this up, we’d hit a tree and die instantly but he didn’t care. He wasn’t afraid of death. He was daring me to choose it.
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