For Cam (Chicago Syndicate Book 4) (21 page)

No one answers, so I bark again, “Where. Is. Camilla?”

Wade runs up to me as I turn around. Out of breath, he reveals, “Cam’s gone.”

I seize his lapels and snarl, “Gone where?”

“I don’t know. She’s missing,” he answers in a regretful tone.

Moving quickly, I smash Wade against the side of my car and spit with a murderous growl, “Where the fuck did she go?”

Camilla

––––––––

N
ervously, I wait in the car while Adriano disappears inside the bookstore with Fallon and Luca.

The soldiers take more concealed positions among the people celebrating all along the street.

But my focus shoots to my right when my guard’s body sags down the side of the BMW and the passenger door is jerked open. Startled, I drop the earpiece and, without having any time to think, I scramble into the driver’s seat, but a man manages to grab my ankle.

“Hello, Camilla!”

Kicking back, I grip the door handle and throw it open, trying to crawl out, but his hold is strong, so I fall down with my palms hitting the pavement. He takes that moment to try to get a tighter grasp of my legs, but I’m able to move one of them well enough to strike his cheek with the hard sole of my boot, causing him to cry out in pain.

Then I clumsily climb out of the vehicle and sprint down the street, running past costumed people while frantically scanning their faces for a
Capo
or soldier who can help me but locating no one. My anxiety, combined with the noise and congestion of everyone around me, makes it impossible for me to concentrate. Craning my neck, I see the man pushing people out of his way to get to me.

“Where the hell is everyone?” I mutter, suddenly finding myself being chased away from the festivities until, before I even realize it, I’m out of the crowd and have made it to the point where the street forks, and I stumble to a halt. In one direction is a library and in the other is a community garden. I choose the garden and have to climb a fence before beating a path over a stretch of ornamental lawn in the dimly lit park.

Stay calm.

Yet my head pounds with uneasiness. I try not to look anywhere but straight ahead, focused on picking a direct route toward the wooded area at the far end, figuring I’ll be safer under the cover of the trees. I just need to stay out of that man’s grasp long enough for a Syndicate member to discover Adriano’s empty car.

Fishing my gun out of my trench coat, I crush flowers beneath my boots as I slip into the forest without slowing down. My eyes water from the bitter wind while I’m driven farther and farther away from help. Unexpectedly, I hear sounds coming from different directions, and I realize that I’m not alone out here.

“Camilla,” a foreboding voice calls out. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Where’s that coming from?

The voice sounds far away, and I try to find a place to hide, but I’ve reached an open stretch of lawn where there’s nothing to conceal me.

I finally come upon a large tree, which I round, pressing my back against it. My chest heaves while I try to catch my breath as I get the silencer from my pocket and hurriedly screw it on.

The woods rustle with noises; branches creak ominously. Footsteps come closer, obviously more than one set.

Peeking around the tree, I see the shadow of a huge man creeping over the grassy area I just came from.

“Camilla, we just want to play...” 

We? Play? How many of them are there, and am I being hunted?

Another sound causes me to twist around, and I’m met with a different attacker, whose face is a mask of cruelty.

“You’re just the person I was looking for.” Clouds of vapor stream up from his mouth, and he lunges at me. “She’s here!”

I swivel around to block the blow, but he catches my shoulder and I sink like a stone, collapsing to the ground on my knees and dropping face-forward onto the dirty, cold earth. For a moment, I can’t breathe, but I do manage to hold on to my weapon. Then I’m being dragged backward by my ankle, and my jean clad knees scrape over the dirt, leaving a burning trail. Uselessly, I attempt to smash the butt of my gun into the ground to find some purchase, but the soil has hardened from the cold. I try again, and my second attempt proves to be successful, so I dig my nails into the ground as well, and then I roll to my back, gasping for air, and kick him in the face.

“Ah, shit!” His head flies backward as he clutches his nose. “Bitch!”

Unsteadily, I aim my gun and let bullets fly recklessly, shooting him in his stomach. He sways backward in shock, and I surge up, but the second attacker loops an arm around my waist, knocking the breath out of me, and hinders my escape.

In reaction, I raise the pistol and slam it back into his face.

“Stupid cunt,” is hissed into my ear.

Getting use out of my self-defense classes, I bend forward with all my strength and jam my gun backward two more times so that the pain forces him to loosen his hold on me. In the dark, I can barely make out his features, but a glimmer of moonlight betrays his menacing expression right before I flee deeper into the darkened, looming trees.

Worn-out, I can’t run anymore, although I’m still being followed. Distress almost cripples me, making my limbs shaky.

“You’ll pay for that!” His voice echoes through my eardrums.

When I hear the man gaining on me, I’m able to get moving again, pumped full of adrenaline. I dodge under a branch, and tree limbs slice the exposed skin on my hands and cheeks as I make my way to another garden where I discover a footpath.

“You fucking cunt. I’ll find you!” The man’s tone becomes angrier with every passing second.

Without having any time to think, I crouch alongside a hedge and scurry down an obscure path lined with trees. I settle on a brisk pace along the moonlit track, a pale road leading to the unknown. When I go around a wide curve and hear a sudden loud snap ahead, I halt, straining to detect further movement. Two or more men are advancing on me from both directions of the pathway. As my eyes begin to adjust to the darkness, I look around for a way out, but I only spot hedgerows, flowers, and a wooden bench that seems to be a children’s bench that’s built very close to the ground. Leaping over it, I swoop low and notice a scant place to hide underneath it. While lying flat on my back with the gun grasped in my left hand, I scoot my body to the side and underneath the crammed, filthy space with my nose almost pressed to the underside of the bench and my arms flat at my sides. My own short, deafening breaths almost suffocate me. I lie there, winded, my back pressed into pine needles, and listen as a hint of light streams through the cracks between the boards. Then I feel something crawling on my neck, and I shudder, swallowing back a whimper. Bugs slither through my hair, and I bite the inside of my cheek, fighting the urge to cry.

No!

I shut my eyes tightly, forcing myself not to imagine what kind of horrific insects are walking over my skin, and I lie completely still, knowing that something far more frightening awaits me if I’m discovered.

“Where did she go?” someone asks. But no one answers, spiking my anxiety.

The voice is right on the other side of my hiding place. And the bench thumps as one of the men kicks it. I remain absolutely motionless, frozen with terror as the frigid air sinks into my jeans, thousands of needles pricking my skin.

Then my name’s being called again, but from farther away. I pray that this is a sign that the immediate danger has passed.

How long should I wait before moving?

Thankfully, I hear my salvation just in the nick of time. “Cam?!”

It sounds like Adriano! Could it be him? Hold on just a tad longer.

The hairs on my neck stiffen. My pulse races as I slowly turn my head to look through a crack in the wooden boards, and to my absolute horror, I see an eye looking back at me.

“Gotcha!” he hisses.

I scream and jerk from the shock, accidentally knocking my forehead against the bench, before I’m hauled out by my ankle in one swift motion. Someone topples onto me as my gun is kicked from my hand, and I shriek from the pain in my fingers. Then I distinctly feel a sting in my neck, and the last thing I remember is the sound of Adriano’s frantic voice searching for me in the far distance.

Adriano

––––––––

“W
here the fuck did she go?” I’m in a foul mood now.

“Adriano.” A
Capo
comes up to me, restraining a woman who’s wearing a light-brown coat and has a short auburn bob similar to Cam’s.

“What happened?” I release Wade.

“Everyone ran toward the entrance of the street after this woman.”

I eye her. “She was a decoy. So where’s Cam? No one saw which way she went? And most of you blindly followed one woman?”

“No, there were more decoys. They’ve been paid to walk around here, but none of the women have useful information for us,” the
Capo
explains.

I scrub my mouth briskly while Luca gives out orders, but not before he mutters, “I said there was another master plan. Fallon, go home with my
Capo
and take Rosalia with you. Wade, take five soldiers with you and search this entire area. Where’s James?”

“Right here. Mine was a look-a-like as well.” James joins us, out of breath.

“This was all planned out. Medlov wanted Cam,” I state as the realization dawns on me.

I push people out of my way and return to the bookstore within seconds, but it’s already locked and closed. Snatching my gun, I check both sides of the lengthy street and go right to some kind of park. Luca’s on my tail, and I tell him, “You go with two soldiers across the street. The rest, follow me.”

I peek through the gate into a well-trimmed garden and notice shadows moving before I hear a yell. Without wasting a moment, I climb over the gate, but the garden is poorly lit and filled with greenery.

“Cam? Cam!” My unsteady tone is unlike it’s ever been before.

“Camilla?” The two soldiers behind me echo my call and disperse while I roam through the hedges.

Standing still, I make another effort to decipher any sounds, but only the howl of the wind reaches my ears.

After several minutes of what feel like hours of checking the area, I come up empty, so I pace back toward my car.

As I move through the throng in the street, Luca runs up to me. “Adriano, where are you going?”

“I’m going to Medlov’s house because I can guarantee that he has her.” I keep on walking with determined strides.

“No.” He seizes my upper arm, coercing me to stop. “Maybe she isn’t there. Or maybe there’s a trap for you at his house because he was counting on us to lose control and act without thinking.”

I glare at his fingers curled around my arm. “Let me go. Don’t try to stop me!” Then I pull my arm free.

Continuing on to my BMW, I hear Luca command our men to follow me.

I slam the door closed and call Henry, who answers immediately, as always. “Text me Yakiv Medlov’s address right now.” And I hang up.

Unable to spare even a second to get my bearings, I swerve onto the road, almost grazing cars as they honk. But I don’t give a shit and step on the gas, skating a red light. 

Exactly seven minutes later, I race through the open gates of Medlov’s estate, and my tires screech over a concrete driveway. This is definitely a trap because there are security guards everywhere, and Medlov has left the front gate wide open for me, but logical thinking is failing me completely.

I brake in front of the white mansion, and without cutting the engine, I bolt out, taking the steps three at a time and knocking on the heavy door with my gun.

My fuming reflection stares back at me in the glass side panel as I bellow, “Medlov!”

More cars pull up behind me right before the door is opened by a greying, middle-aged butler. “Sir, what can I do for you?”

“Where’s Medlov?” I smack open the door, pushing the servant out of the way and barging inside an enormous, pristine foyer with twin staircases curving up to the second floor.

“It’s okay, Alfred.” Medlov comes down the stairs as I advance on him at the bottom of them.

Alfred? Really?

I extend my arm, cocking my Smith & Wesson. “What did you do with Cam?”

Reason left my system the second I found out she was missing. My heart is screaming to take any risk to get her back, but my mind is arguing to not put myself in this vulnerable position.

“What’s with the home invasion?” Medlov acts all innocent.

“Don’t play games with me. Where. Is. Cam?” I aim my weapon between his eyes, but he just stands there conceitedly as his soldiers, and mine, enter the foyer.

“Don’t come into
my
house and threaten me,” Medlov chides.

“Where the fuck is she?” I only have one thought occupying my mind.

“What are you talking about? You just saw me; when would I have taken her?”

“Where’s Cam?!” I click off the safety.

Then, out of nowhere, someone jumps me from the side, but I manage to keep my footing, and with a ferocious grunt, I strike my fist into his stomach and knee his groin before tossing him aside and lurching at Medlov.

My soldiers are held back by his soldiers as Medlov and I topple onto the stairs, wrestling, and I beat the back of his head against a step.

“I know you have her!” I yell viciously, but he punches me in the face, blurring my vision.

A shot rings out, and a scorching pain sears my shoulder. Craning my neck, I see blood seeping into my dress shirt, and Luca darkens the doorway, assessing the situation. He holds up his hands when he realizes that we’re overpowered, and Medlov and I both sit up on the stairs.

“Take your
Capo crimine
,” Medlov spits at Luca, swiping a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth.

Luca moves to me and bends to place his shoulder under my arm to help me stand, whispering, “This is our
one
chance to get out of here alive. We’ll be of no use to Cam if we’re dead. We need to regroup.”

His words puncture my soul because my instinct is blaring that she’s here, but I also recognize that I don’t have a choice, and that tears me apart. Still, I let Luca guide me outside.