Captured Heart (4 page)

I waited for long minutes in the back of the van. The slow tick of the minutes on the dashboard clock was my only companion. Had they left me here for good? For all I knew, they'd abandoned the van in a junk yard and I was going to lay here until I starved to death. I could hear traffic nearby but that was meaningless. I didn't know this city and I couldn't begin to guess at my location.
I slowed my rapid breathing and tried to calm down as best I could. If I was going to survive this, I had to stop myself from freaking out. I thought about Lila and her yoga. Then I thought about her
lying
on the floor of the apartment. It would be hours before Darren came home from work and probably even longer before Ronan returned to the apartment. As frightened as I was for my own predicament I was just as scared for Lila.

I heard the back door of the van being opened and tried to clear my head. The doors swung open and sunlight poured in, momentarily blinding me. I could make out two silhouetted figures in the light that I presumed to be my captors. They stood there looking at me for just a moment before
reaching down and dragging me from the van. I put my feet onto the ground but my legs were wobbly and if they hadn't been there holding me stead I probably would have been unable to stand.

"Come on," the older one said to me, "We're going inside."

They led me towards a large industrial building that the van was parked beside. Now that I could see, I looked around to get my bearings, but it was useless as I suspected. There was a street with cars on it and a number of brick buildings around, but that didn't differentiate this place from anywhere else in Belfast particularly. I was lost and alone and I might not even be able to find my way back if I were to somehow escape.

They pushed me inside the building, which turned out to be an old factory long since stripped of anything of value. Now it was just a large space with a smattering of broken bottles and old newspapers strewn about. The smell of old moisture was thick in the air and I could imagine that whoever owned the place - if anyone actually did - hadn't paid it any attention in decades at the most recent.
Not far from the doors we came in there was a small table with a few chairs around it. The younger one went ahead and sat in one of the chairs while the older one pushed me over to a support beam.

"Sit here and shut up," he told me.

I looked at him and didn't resist his simple command. Sitting quietly was about the most comfortable thing I could expect in this situation and I wasn't about to fight him with my hands tied behind my back. I slid myself down against the beam and he nodded before stepping over to the table.

From that moment on, neither of them seemed to pay me much attention. I was in their field of vision at all times, so I couldn't exactly try anything, but at least they seemed to be ignoring me.

"How long do we have to stay here?" the young one asked.

"Until they call," the older one responded, "They should have delivered the message to that mick bastard by now. Then we'll find out just what he's made of. If he's smart, he'll cut ties and get out of town. If not... well, we'll just see."

I didn't like the sound of that. It became clear that the bastard they were talking about was Ronan or possibly his father. They'd already delivered a ransom demand of some kind. It sounded like the price of my safety was for Ronan to leave Belfast. I couldn't believe this had happened. Bad enough that I was being held captive by these creeps, but my presence here in Belfast was going to
ruin everything for the Druids. I wasn't quite at the point of commitment to the club that I would value the fight between them and the Americans more than my own well-being, but it still bothered me. If I'd just stayed back in Dublin, this wouldn't have happened. Now Lila might be dead and I could be just as screwed. If Ronan decided to leave though, he'd be giving up on the club and his father. Even the other Druids from Dublin would lose respect for him if he backed down in a situation like this. But what would happen if he didn't? What would happen to me?

When you imagine hostage situations like this and the way they're portrayed in movies, the kidnappers are always sitting around playing cards with the captive. Things weren't like that in the factory at all. For one thing, a deck of cards had given way to kidnappers who had smartphones. Even the older one spent his time reading things off his phone while younger one played a game with himself.
I had no such way of entertaining myself. Instead, I spent the time counting the support pillars and memorizing the faces of my captors. If I did get out of here alive, even if it meant Ronan had to run back to Dublin with his tail between his legs, I knew he'd want vengeance. That kept me going. As long as I could remember, these two would never escape the Druids. I could tell from their attire that they were bikers as well, but still they seemed to ignore the guaranteed consequences of an action like this. War is war, but kidnapping the girlfriend of a rival club leader is a good way to earn a lot of enemies for life.

Enough time passed that my immediate terror at my surroundings and my situation had passed and I was left with only mild fright and increased awareness of the basic needs of my body. I hadn't eaten since breakfast with Ronan and I was thirsty as well. I thought about trying to get my captor's attention despite the gag that was still stretched across my mouth, but every time I was about to mount an attempt, they'd say something or do something that made me return to cowering against my support beam. The more I heard of them, the less I thought they would be taking me for burgers any time soon.

"This is bullshit," the younger one said, motioning to me. "I don't like sitting here with her at all. What if they come to get her?"

"Shut up," the older one scolded him, "
It's only been an hour. They don't know where we are. Now sit down and
shut up.
"

"Fuck you, Nitty," the younger one said. I didn't fail to take note that I now had names for both of the men who had captured me. I didn't think I'd have any problem remembering them considering the circumstances. My eyes narrowed as I listened closely to their conversation, hoping they'd drop another clue as to our location or something else I could use to my benefit.

Nitty
glowered at Vic. "This is the job we've got so this is the job we're going to do," he told the younger man.
"If you don't like it... no, fuck that.
If you don't like it, too bad.
You're going to sit here and do it anyway because I'm sure as shit not doing it alone."

The way they were bickering with each other wasn't exactly useful to me as their captive, but it was at least nice to know they weren't enjoying themselves. I didn't trick myself into thinking I could actually turn them against each other. Nobody in their position was actually so dumb that they'd risk everything because a bound and gagged captive tried to play on their insecurities. I was just glad that at least one of them was worried about Ronan. I sure would be if I were them. I closed my eyes and imagined the fury that my man would have been experiencing just then. The thought that he might be fleeing town and leaving me to my fate wasn't a realistic fear at all. If it had been so long without a word, it could only mean one thing in my mind - Ronan was coming.

Another hour passed without much conversation between Vic and Nitty
. I did gather from the conversation that the two of them were working as mercenaries of a sort. Their jackets didn't bear any insignia and I got the feeling that though they might have been members of some club at one time or another, they were working as free agents now.
Nitty
kept referring to his time "back in the desert" though I couldn't think of what he was referring to. He didn't seem the sort of person who had spent much time in the Sahara or the Outback. Wherever he'd come from, I didn't like to imagine the circumstances that had brought him to this place - kidnapping innocent women on the orders of some warlord. The dangerous and frightening lives these people had been living had been going on like this for decades - right under the noses of a population that never noticed them. I'd never given had two consecutive thoughts about motorcycle gangs in my whole life before I met the Druids. I'd always known there were people out there who spent their lives outside the law, but
nothing like this. The reality of my situation was hard to come to grips with. Kidnapping and ransoms and that sort of thing happened in movies, not real life. I was never prepared to survive in this kind of situation and I didn't know anyone else from back in Baltimore who might have been.

"Screw this," Vic said suddenly, standing up from the table. "I'm going to go get some food."

I could tell that even Nitty
was beginning to become frustrated with this job. Earlier I might have expected him to repeat his frequently uttered catch phrase, "shut up" and tell the other man to sit down, but now even he was feeling the pressure.

"Yeah, alright," he said, "Go get some burgers. We'll make that bastard
McAndrews pay for it when we get back."

"Damn straight," Vic said, finally pleased that his notion of the way their afternoon should be progressing was being taken seriously.

"And get something for her too," Nitty
said as the other man headed for the door. Vic nodded and vanished through the heavy metal door we'd come in by.
Nitty
looked over to me. His face was, for that one moment, something like sincere. I don't think it was compassion that was guiding him so much as basic human understanding of things like hunger, but whatever it was I was glad for it. That was the first time he'd directly acknowledged my presence ever since we arrived at the factory. All the same, it was short lived. He turned his face back to whatever he was reading on his phone and I went back to counting the pillars.

Time passed and before long I heard the van pull up outside the factory. My stomach immediately started rumbling. I didn't realize just how hungry I had become until there was a real prospect of getting something to eat. I straightened myself up against my support beam, trying to look as much like the perfect captive as possible, hoping they wouldn't forget about me in the moment.
Nitty glanced up at the door when he heard the van but went back to his phone.

The door opened and I saw Vic come through carrying two large white paper bags. I started salivating at the sight of them.
Nitty
looked up as well. Vic took two steps inside the door, saying "Alright, alright, alright - I've got burgers and -
"
BANG

He was cut off in mid-sentence, falling forward onto the floor of the factory and taking those burgers down with him. My eyes went wide and I started gasping for breath against my gag.
Nitty
dropped his phone and reached behind his back for his gun, which was stowed in his belt. He barely had enough time to get it out and to step over towards me before the light from outside was obscured by shadowy figures entering the factory.

Nitty
grabbed me hard in one arm and put the barrel of his gun against my temple.
Before the threat of violence had been implied, but now it was extremely real.
I saw three people moving through the shadows around the door of the factory. They stepped around Vic's body and one of them bent down to inspect him.

"Cat?" the one in the front said. His face came into view. It was Ronan. Tears immediately began pouring from my eyes. I couldn't believe it. He'd come to find me. All of the words we'd exchanged - all of the promises to love and protect one another - they'd just been words up until this point. Now it was something much greater. I don't know how he found me, but he had. My knight in shining armor had arrived at last.

"I think ye'd
best be letting the girl go, yank," he said, stepping into the light of the factory. In his hand was the gun he often carried but, as far as I had seen, rarely had cause to discharge. I don't know if he'd been the one who took down Vic, but part of me hoped it wasn't. As happy as I was to have him arrive when he did, part of me was still resistant to the idea that the man I loved was capable of that kind of violence - even if the reality of the situation made that an extremely unlikely hope. Beside him was his father Terry, also holding a gun out at
Nitty. When he stood up from Vic's body, I recognized that the third man was Garret. When I saw him I smiled widely. As happy as I was to see Ronan, the sight of Garret made me think of his old lady, Daisy, back home, and the warm welcome she'd give me when she saw me. I was sure she'd reprimand Ronan for ever letting me out of his sight.

I could feel Nitty's
arm shaking as he held me. His grip was not nearly
so
vise-like as it had been back at Darren and Lila's apartment. The conviction had gone out of his muscles in the face of three-to-one odds. Still, his gun was held tight against the side of my head and I knew that one small motion could end my life before I had the chance to say a word.

"Let her go," Garret said, raising his gun at Nitty
. "Ye don't want this boy. If ye pull that trigger,
ye'll know pain unlike anything ye've ever imagined."

Garret was the only one there who might have gotten away with calling Nitty
"boy". Though Terry was older, he carried himself like a young man. Garret had the kind of authority that only comes from experience and I hoped that would translate into the kind of suggestion
Nitty
couldn't ignore. I felt his arm get tense and I gasped, inaudibly, beneath my gag. For a brief moment I thought to myself that this was it. But then the moment passed. His grip around my body relaxed and the gun slipped away from my temple. He swung it down in a slow motion and casually tossed it to the floor, pushing me towards Ronan as he did so.