The Carrero Heart - Beginning (Friends to Lovers)

Chapter 141

The driver remains silent but his whole body seems stiffer, eyeing us and remaining impassive as he can. The men outside are all on cell phones and murmuring among one another and I wonder why they aren’t letting us go.

“If they are so afraid of Alexi, then why aren’t they opening the door and letting us walk away?” I stare at her in complete angst, so wanting to be done with this now and anxiety rising that this goes so much deeper than I thought it would. If Alexi finds out, then all the Carreros will become involved, and I have no idea how this will play out. The family is huge. I’m in so much shit from them after this; Giovanni will literally spank me for getting caught in this kind of danger.

“You’re kidding right? They called your boyfriend and made threats, made it clear they have you. They know how fucked they are, and the only way to make it right is to deal with this face on. I bet they have Alexi on the phone right now… groveling like bitches and trying to retract anything they said to your boyfriend.” Camilla is finding leverage in this situation, and despite the mess of her face, she is trying to sort her clothes and hair. Swelling eyes and clearly worse for the wear, yet her inner fire is still there. She has found her way out and the realization has her brimming with confidence.

“So, they just keep us? Until when?” My head is racing on how crazy Arry will be going, how panicked and scared he must be, thinking that something awful is happening to me. The thought of him knowing I’m here is keeping me calm, knowing he’s probably on the phone to Giovanni, and Jake right now, probably Alexi too… Trying everything in his power to get me back. I know he’ll make sure I’m okay, whether he wants to be with me anymore or not.

He will always take care of me. I know he will.

“They will have to arrange a proper handover… Take whatever punishment they have coming. If they dump us and run, then they will be hunted down like dogs. There’s a code you don’t break, and I think they’ve just broken it.” Camilla slides down in the seat and holds her ribs, laying her head back to try

and breathe and sniffing through her bloodied swollen nose. I watch at her for a moment then sit back too and try to reign in the craziness of my head, try not to count the minutes. We all fall into silence as I watch the panicked scrambling of the men outside. Not sure what else to do but sit here and wait. A part of me knows I am no longer in danger, that his name alone is enough to protect me when he’s not here.

I jump when the car door is opened, and another suited man gets in, sitting in front and doesn’t even look this way. Another suited thug with a skin head and a whole neck of tattoos peeking out of a tailored black suit. Hugely intimidating and adding another layer of fear to my already thin nerves and shaking hands.

“We’ve to go to the club with them, and wait for further instruction.” He mumbles to the driver and I glance at Camilla in sheer panic, somehow knowing we are being moved, taken elsewhere seems to set my fear back on edge. Heart racing, blood running cold and the unknown looming ahead of us.

I was starting to calm down, becoming sure in the fact that the name alone was going to keep me safe, yet somehow, knowing they intend to take us somewhere else, for God knows how long, it terrifies me. I thought this would be over by now and yet, it feels like it’s only beginning. Moving us, taking us somewhere else, it seems far more sinister and real suddenly and I can’t contain the nerves hitting my gut with force.

Camilla looks completely useless; no fit state to do anything except lay very still and gaze at me with large eyes. The blood has drained from her face and I can tell she is in a lot of pain, her breathing has been getting more and more labored the longer we sit here, and I wonder if she has broken ribs or worse. I’m really starting to feel concerned about the depths of her injuries.

I want to ask them questions, yet something inside of me tells me to be quiet and do as we are told. To trust that he will get us out of this and pray we don’t get touched.

When the car starts, I grip Camilla’s hand tightly, looking for comfort in the oddest of places and she squeezes right back. All bravado and confidence, a mask and she is clearly as scared as I am. I’d never clung to another person when I was young, enduring what I did, but somehow, knowing we both share so many hideous scars; we may need each other to get through this if everything goes wrong.

The rumble of the car as we pull off lulls us into tense silence; the men in front don’t say anything more, and we edge away from the men loitering in the alley. I catch sight of Tyler and realize he still has something that belongs to me.

“Wait. My cell?” I snap impulsively and the man in front holds it up in plain sight over the top of his head. I go to reach for it, but he yanks it away fast with a ‘tut tut’, and chuckles.

“You’ll get it back when we make the switch. Until then, shut up, be a good girl and don’t make this worse.” He slides my cell back out of sight and I sit back, still clinging to Camilla and watch the New York streets start to slide by as we hit early morning traffic. Sick with anxiety and trying to keep picturing Arry in my mind’s eye and praying he doesn’t let me down.

We pull up to a looming dark building in a back street that I don’t recognize. It’s hard to gauge where we are, as they seemed to take us down a route of back alleys and short cuts that messed up all sense of direction. I think we have hit downtown, but I can’t be sure and the building reaching above us looks industrial. Blacked out windows, even in the early light, grimy, old, and foreboding.

The door clicks open beside me as a new face, another suit, another set of muscle leans in and looks at us with a disinterested eye.

“Come with me, both of you.” He reaches in and offers me a hand, but I slide out, skirting past him and get onto the street without touch. Camilla looks like she tries to follow, but whimpers and moans under her breath. It’s clear she can’t get out unaided and the man clicks fingers over the top of the car, motioning men on the other side to handle her as I am pulled off by the arm ahead of them.

“Wait, I need to wait for her.” I try to argue and twist in his grip, but it only tightens, and he throws me a warning look.

“This will go a lot more smoothly if you don’t cause me any hassle, girly. I’m not one of Tyler’s men and it will do you well to behave.” That cold look and no shit tone has me recoil within myself and I immediately simmer down to allow him to guide me into the building. There’s something about him that intimidates me crazily and I realize that I’m in still as much danger as I was. My safety relies on Alexi and the Carrero’s reputation, and it feels like I am being pulled deeper within the folds of things I shouldn’t be messed up in.

He marches me into the dark building, revealing a seedy strip bar that is surprisingly already open. A half-naked woman gyrating on a pole that is sat up on a huge box in the middle of the bar, with men already perched on stools and leaning over drinks. Eyes glued to her bouncing breasts and I look away in complete discomfort. Hating that of all the places I have been brought, it’s a seedy joint full of sex and perverts.

My stomach is in knots, gripping me tight, my body on high alert and I have no idea about what I should even be doing. Silent and obedient, hoping that it will all be over soon and that I must trust that my Carrero men will come for me.

Please come for me.

He leads me through the bar, past the dancer and straggling men and through a dark door to the side. It opens into an office that’s crowded and cluttered. A huge desk in the middle of an overly packed room of furniture, cabinets and overflowing files and I’m forced down into a seat by the wall that faces into the room. He keeps walking to the desk and sits down awkwardly in the large leather seat, looking completely out of place and I get the distinct impression this is not his office at all. He looks too pulled together and groomed for this shithole.

Moments later the door is opened, and Camilla is dragged in and dumped on the couch opposite me by two men, her face white as milk, tears in her eyes as she muffles cries under her breath from pain and they leave her there to wallow. Nodding at the man who brought us in and depart quickly, pulling the door behind them. I glance at her, checking to see she’s okay and see she’s already closing her eyes to try and internalize it all. She’s panting, perspiring and I really start to feel sick with worry that she might not make it waiting for Alexi.

“I think she needs a medic. Tyler’s men really did her over.” I look to him imploringly, appealing to the gentler side, but he smirks at me and shrugs as though I’m insane.

“Better tell your boyfriend that when he comes for the hand off.” He leans back in the chair, creaking as it goes and sticks two expensive, polished shoes on the wooden surface uncaringly, pulling off leather gloves that I didn’t even noticed he was wearing and throws then casually on the table.

“When will that be? How long do we need to stay here?” I watch him nervously, trying to keep my cool, trying to not fall to pieces even though I really want to. None of this seems real, this can’t be happening, and I have never been more afraid.

“As long as it takes! Alexi is a busy man and he’s coming here from elsewhere. Last thing he needed to deal with today was problematic little girls getting themselves in all sorts of trouble.” He sneers again, and I get the distinct impression that he isn’t on Tyler’s pay roll at all; he seems to be a little cozy on the first name basis of the man they were all trembling over. I swallow hard, to try and rid my dry throat of the parched dryness and stare at him questioningly, sitting upright in the leather tub chair I’m on.

“You work for Alexi?” I’m shocked; not only that this is the kind of man he deals with, but his lack of care that I mean something is astonishing. Considering the fear Tyler and Camilla seem to have for him.

“No… Let’s just say we are on the same side of a very big club and we have been known to rub shoulders. I’m here as a favor. Keeping you cozy until he gets here. Safe from Tyler’s handy men.” He slides his feet back down and pulls himself upright, walks across to a dusty shelf of books and looks through the titles, pulling one aside and dragging out a hidden bottle of booze. He reads the label, turns, and throws it across to Camilla with precise aim and a grin.

“Here sweetheart, kill the pain and stop your little friend here from having some sort of caring epidemic.” The bottle hits her in the stomach and sends her into a yelping recoil, curling up and clutching her ribs before it slides to the floor with a dull thud and I glare at him in disgust. I have no idea who he is, but I hate him. He has no compassion and his treatment of a wounded woman has me thinking murderous thoughts. I hope Alexi beats him half to death with that stupid bottle when he gets here.

There’s a knock on the door, a head pops in and motions to him, completely expressionless and I get nothing from the look that passes between them. He says nothing, a nod and then he walks towards the door and leaves, closing it behind him without a second glance as though we are of no importance at all. I get the impression he isn’t happy about babysitting us and wonder why the hell they didn’t let us go, back in that alley.

We could have been in a cab to the hospital hours ago.

As soon as the door clicks I’m on my feet and speedily crossing to her in seconds, pulling the bottle from the floor and start trying to help her to sit, pushing cushions behind her head in a bid to get her comfier. Focusing on this is all I can think to do to stop myself going bat shit crazy.

“Don’t.” She croaks between breaths, and yet I still persevere.

“Sitting up a little will mean I can help you drink this, if it dulls something then it has to be worth it.” I maneuver her, so I can lift her head, unscrew the cap and help her drink the neat vodka a little at a

time. She coughs and chokes and shakes her head at me trying to signal that she cannot drink it.

“I can’t…it hurts too much. I think they broke most of my ribs.” She’s breathing so shallowly, closing her eyes tight in pain and I want to cry for her. I once had two broken ribs and know how painful it can be. I hate that we’re stuck here like this, that I’m helpless to do anything for her.

“It will help. I promise you.” I know because at twelve it was how I dealt with the pain from self-treating those same broken bones, from my father’s drinks cabinet. Hospitals would have asked questions, so my mom never took me. The bruises, marks, and state of me would have alerted so much suspicion.

I shake it out of my head and try again with the liquor, holding her face as she tries to drink, taking smaller sips this time; she turns her head away when she can’t anymore, and I swallow down the urge to burst into hopeless tears. I have to keep telling myself that they are coming.

“Why are you helping me? After what I did?” she croaks, swollen eyes barely open enough to look at me and I regard her with so much in my head. Trembling, trying to stay positive.

“Because I am all you have right now, we’re in this together. I can’t watch you suffer, that’s not who I am.” I sit down on the floor, cradling the bottle in between my knees as the tears start to fall. Hopeless at where we are, in this dirty room, surrounded by strangers. I never imagined for a minute that I would ever be locked in a place that meant she and I only had each other to rely on. She is the last person in the world I would ever trust to help me, yet I can’t let her suffer.

I just want to go home.

“I’m sorry for what I did…. If it means anything then…I am.” Camilla croaks, grimaces with the effort and watches me with slotted eyes. The bruising and redness so bad now, the swelling seems to be getting worse over time. I catch the hint of emotion in her voice, realize my tears are making her upset

too and try so hard to pull myself together. My problems of last night, what happened with Arry, they seem so insignificant compared to this and I want him here.

“I’m sorry I punched you in the face, even if you did and still do deserve it. I know that’s why we’re here…if I had just walked by and left you to it, then we wouldn’t be here.” I sniff back a fresh wave of guilty tears and wipe my face with my sleeve, seeing the smeared make up residue and can only imagine how bad I look.

“They would have caught me anyway, and there is still a really good chance that I won’t walk away from this. I still have a debt.” She sounds completely resigned to the fact that I’ll be allowed to go, and she knows fate has finally caught up with her, but I shake my head. If the reason we are still in their grasp is money, then I know the Carreros will deal with it.

“Arry won’t let anything happen to you… Alexi will take you as part of whatever deal he has to make, because he’ll assume you’re my friend. Alexi won’t let anything happen to either of us.” I assure her, so sure in my family, and knowing their hearts. I know they won’t let her be left behind in this, they will bring her out with me and get her help.

I’ll make sure they do.

“You’re probably the first real friend I have ever known…Sad, isn’t it? And look what I did.” She laughs softly then groans as pain splices through her, coughing up a little blood that sends me into instant panic mode. I start to fumble with the bottle, almost spilling it and rush to kneel up so I can tend to her in some way. Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.

“Shit, Cam… I don’t know what to do, you need a doctor.” I get up on my knees, so I’m higher and start using my sleeve to try and wipe her face, try with the booze some more but give up at her first rejection. She seems like she doesn’t want to do anything anymore and I can’t let this happen.

“Lisa…… My name is Lisa; not exactly the name of a budding rich kid, right? I guess someone should know it in case you know…” She trails off and looks away as fear courses through me that maybe she really is dying. That they messed her up inside and she’s bleeding internally. I place a palm on her face instinctively and curse when I feel how cold she is, the way her skin is clammy under mine, despite being in a warm place. I get up impulsively and stalk to the door, determined to bang the shit out of it until they get her help, but I freeze as the man from before swings it open and walks in to face me, his gaze completely blank at me standing a foot away from him.

“Going somewhere?” He snarls down at me, still as cruelly cold and uncaring and I falter in his presence.

“She’s coughing up blood, she’s really hurt.” I shake in front of him and try not to beg, but it’s so hard to be the picture of strength when everything is falling apart around you.

“Not my problem, it’s Alexi’s. Get your shit together, we’re going to meet them.”