ABDUCTED!
"Where are you, dad?" Lily chimed, standing at the doorway of the dimly lit restaurant.
The clinking of cutlery stopped instantly.
Her arms were crossed over a faded denim jacket, staring at him with a frown like he had done her wrong. “You know this place smells like rot now, right?” she said, her voice dry as a gin martini. “Even the rats are skipping town.”
Her father, Giovanni, slumped over a chipped counter, polishing a glass that didn’t need polishing.
It was a nervous tic.
The man looked like a deflated balloon these days - gray, thin, half full of regret.
“You want to close the place, don’t you?” he muttered without looking up.
“No,” she lied. “But if I have to bus tables and beg social media influencers, I’ll do it. This place used to mean something.”
He finally looked at her. Same eyes. Same stubborn jaw. But now his shoulders sagged like wet laundry. “We’re ten grand in debt. I owe the Morellos. You know what that means?”
She said with a shrug."Why did you have to borrow?"
“Then I shouldn’t have had any kids either,” he snapped. Regretted it the moment it left his mouth. “I didn’t mean that.”
“No. You did. And that’s okay.” She pushed open the door. “I’ll figure something out.”
The Miami night breathed warm on her face.
Echoing past was the wail of a police siren but no one flinched.
She pulled her leather bag tight and walked.
Neon flickered across the cracked sidewalk. One heel click after the other.
She didn’t hear the growling engine until it was too close.
A black sedan slid up furiously beside her like a shark sniffing blood. The passenger window glided down, smooth as sin.
“Lily Rossi?”
She stopped. “Who’s asking?”
The man had the features of a criminal. Crooked nose, eyes like holes in concrete. He smiled, but the kind of smile you’d rather not answer.
“Hop in.”
“Yeah, no. I’m okay walking.”
He didn’t insist. Didn’t have to. The back door clicked open and another man stepped out — taller, lean, and looking like a tax audit with teeth.
She took a step back. “Look, if this is about...”
The tall one moved fast. A blur of swift motion. His strong hands swirled in the air aiming for her face. A sickly sweet rag. She kicked, flailed. Bit. It tasted like cologne and copper.
“You 've got the wrong...” she slurred.
“Shhh.” That was the last word she heard.
******
She stirred awake.
It was dark. She was moving. Or rather, the trunk she was jammed into was moving.
Her head throbbed. Mouth dry. Arms bound at the wrist. Cheap nylon rope.
“Classic,” she muttered. “You boys watch too many Tarantino flicks.”
She tried to shift but hit metal. Hard. The air was thick. Tasted like rust and regret.
The car hit a pothole. Her skull smacked the trunk lid. A yelp slipped out instinctively.
Then voices.
“You think she’s worth it? Her father made it easy.” the driver asked in a gravelly voice.
The one beside him snorted. “She’s insurance. That’s all.”
“She’s pretty.”
“Keep your pants on. She's for the Morellos."
“I’m just saying...”
“I don’t care what you’re saying. Don't even think bout it." The voice was menacing.
Lily listened. Memorized. Cold blood substituted by fear now. Insurance? Money?
Her father. The Morellos. Those bastards.
She grit her teeth. “Should’ve known,” she whispered into the trunk.
She didn’t cry. Couldn’t afford to. Not here and obviously not now.
*******
The car came to a halt.
Doors opened. The patter of footsteps followed.
Then, the trunk creaked open. Light stabbed her eyes.
“Frozen is finally awake,” the tall one said, grinning from ear to ear.
She squinted. “And look who still shops at Murderers-R-Us.”
He slapped her. Not hard. Just enough to make a point.
“You got a mouth on you.” He added.
“You’ve got dead eyes and daddy issues.”
He didn’t like that. But he laughed. A dry, humorless sound.
They dragged her out. Her boots scraped pavement.
A nondescript warehouse loomed ahead. it was probably abandoned. The kind where screams echoed and the walls never told.
Inside, the air was stale.
Oil, dust and old crime was the hideous smell that hung in the air
Hanging from the limewashed ceiling was a bulb from a frayed wire
They shoved her onto a folding chair.
The driver cracked his knuckles. “Boss said don’t bruise her face. Said the buyer’s particular.”
“Buyer?” Lily’s eyes narrowed. “Am I furniture now?”
They didn’t answer.
Instead, the tall one pulled out a burner phone. Dialed. Waited.
“Yeah. We got her.” A pause. “Unharmed. So far.”
Lily leaned forward. “Hey, can I order a pizza on that too? Maybe a shotgun?”
The driver rolled his eyes, fists clenched
“You’re lucky the boss said no fun,” the tall one muttered, his lewd eyes scanning her statuesque physique.
She smiled, bloody-lipped. “You two wouldn’t know fun if it bit you on the ass.”
He hung up.
“Boss is coming,” he said.
“Yeah?” Lily said. “So’s Judgment Day.”
They both stared at her.
Then the tall one chuckled. “I like her.”
“I don’t,” the driver muttered.
“Well, she’s not yours to like.”
They left her there. Alone. Chair squeaking under her.
She breathed. Counted the seconds.
Then a noise.
Not footsteps. Not voices.
Something heavier. Slower.
A presence.
Creaking open was the warehouse door
A towering figure entered.
Not the two stooges. Someone else.
She couldn’t see him clearly. Just boots. Polished. Moving with intent.
He stopped in front of her.
The light caught his face.
And she froze.
She hardly knew that face.
And he sure as hell knew hers.
He smiled. But it didn’t reach his eyes.
“Hello, Lily.”
The chair wobbled as she shifted back, her throat dry.
She blinked hard.
How did he know her name?
The man could see the confusion etched on her face.
"Guess you don't know me but I know you."
“That's a coincidence. Who are you?” she said, staring at his cold, mean eyes
His voice was soft. “You will know me. But not now."
A single thought hit her like a freight train as she stared closely at him.
This wasn’t a kidnapping. This was personal.
And then he said it.
“You’ve just become the last card on a table full of loaded guns. Your father offered you to me."
Black.
Everything went black again.
