Code of Silence Page 7

  The tip of a gun peeked around the hallway door to the room. It was too late.

  EIGHT

  Gabriella spun around to face the darkened doorway as Rodrigo stepped into the room, a smirk on his face. “Well, what do we have—”

  Instinct propelled her arms up and out, shoving the heavy bundle of metal and rope into the air. The ladder soared directly toward Rodrigo.

  “Catch,” she yelled.

  If there was one thing she’d learned from being a public school teacher, it was that distraction could be her ally. The shadows in the room worked to her advantage as Rodrigo’s expression morphed into surprise and confusion. He flinched and opened his arms wide to catch it. The rubber ends on the tips of the metal hooks slammed into Rodrigo’s chest. He howled as the ladder unlatched itself against him.

  Crack! The gun fired into the ceiling as the metal and ropes bounced off his chest and onto the wooden floor.

  She bent down and grabbed the fire extinguisher she’d set down on the ground at the foot of the bed. The weight of the metal container always surprised her. How could foam weigh so much?

  “What are you doing? Go, go, go,” Luke shouted. His arm snaked around her waist and pulled her up and along with him, as if he were a quarterback and she was a football on the way to a touchdown. Her toes dragged against the floor, but she kept her eyes firmly focused on Rodrigo.

  Gabriella yanked the pin from the fire extinguisher and depressed the trigger as Luke carried her the few feet to the barely open safe-room door. The white foam sprayed across the room as she twisted the nozzle from side to side.

  The goo slapped her target right across his face. She didn’t ease up and moved her aim to Rodrigo’s hand, hoping she could spray the gun right out or at least make it hard to hold.

  Rodrigo kicked the ladder across the room and wiped away the foam with his forearm in one swift motion. He roared with rage.

  The ladder slid and hit Luke in the foot. He released Gabriella’s waist and shoved her behind the steel door, stepping directly beside her as they both slipped inside the safe room.

  She stepped to the side as a gunshot rang out. Something flew through her hair, mere inches from her hairline, and dinged into the wall behind her. Had she been hit and just wasn’t feeling it yet?

  She kicked the edge of the door. “Close it, close it, close it,” she chanted.

  Luke barreled all of his body weight against the safe-room door. While it only had a foot to go, the door closed at a snail’s pace as Rodrigo sprinted, full force, toward them.

  Rodrigo reached out his gun again. This time he didn’t seem to care whether or not she lived as he aimed at the spot between her eyes.

  Gabriella lifted up the heavy fire extinguisher over her head and threw it full force through the eight-inch gap. The round end of the bottom of the can bounced off Rodrigo’s forehead as Luke threw his body weight against the steel door until it slammed shut. Gabriella dropped to her knees and twisted the bottom bolt shut as Luke worked on the top and the center.

  Dull pings slammed into the door. Bulges only inches away from her eyes formed and worked their way up the door. Her breath ragged, she scooted backward. Her heart attempted to jump out of her throat as she wrestled against the sudden nausea. They could’ve been killed.

  Luke spun toward her as she accidentally bumped the standing flashlight in the middle of the room. The light flickered but remained lit.

  “How many bullets did your mom have?” he asked.

  “Quite a stockpile,” she admitted. More bulges in the door appeared. The impacts didn’t quit until Rodrigo must have released another clip of bullets. Bumps covered the entire inside of the door. “Someone’s got an anger problem.”

  Luke’s eyes widened as he stared at her. He guffawed as he shook his head. “Well, I would, too, if I was at the other end of your self-defense tactics.” He sat down beside her. “You’re something else, Gabriella.”

  She studied him and replayed his words. “I can’t tell if that’s a positive or negative in your view.”

  He laughed the nervous laugh of someone in shock. “You’re unique, one of a kind.”

  “Again, you’re not being clear.” She couldn’t help the smile spreading across her face.

  He faced her and took her hand, sending invisible sparks shooting up her spine. “You no doubt saved my life.” His eyes narrowed. “While I’m upset you put yourself in harm’s way, I can’t dismiss that I wouldn’t have breath left in my body if you hadn’t done what you did.” His eyes bulged. “Catch? You said catch?” He slapped the carpet beside him, laughing. “That’ll teach him to mess with a teacher.”

  She shrugged, trying not to be bothered that he’d dropped her hand. How could someone’s touch both bring comfort and a thrill at the same time?

  Gabriella reached up and touched the side of her head, feeling for any sign of wetness. Her fingertips combed through her hair and swiped along her scalp.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Just making sure I didn’t get grazed. I’d have thought I would’ve felt it, but I’ve also heard about shock...” Her fingers touched something rough. As if a few strands of hair had been singed directly above her ear. She pulled the remaining strands forward, in hopes she could take a look.

  “I thought I heard a gunshot, but I didn’t realize the bullet made its way in.” Luke leaned forward and touched her hair. “That was too close, Gabriella. I’m glad we don’t have matching scars...or worse.” His eyes drifted from her hair to her face, then to her lips.

  Her mouth went dry. “Me, too.” The intense look in his eyes scared her almost as much as the thought of getting shot. She’d never forget the moment he’d almost kissed her.

  It had happened years ago—a couple of months after they’d learned about their fiancés’ betrayal. They spent a lot of time together, because frankly no one else understood their pain and it turned out their personalities complemented each other nicely.

  They became best friends within weeks. And when Luke tried to make it something more, it terrified her. She’d turned him away, worried they were diving into a rebound relationship that would only hurt the friendship.

  Her cheeks heated at the memory. Gabriella didn’t want a repeat of the last time. Even now, he seemed to make light of the fact his fiancée cheated on him. As if his heart had never been fully invested, as if he wasn’t devastated.

  She couldn’t give her heart to someone who wasn’t going to take it seriously. If his heart wasn’t all in for his own fiancée, she didn’t want to risk opening herself up to loving someone more than they would ever love her.

  And if she thought she wasn’t ready for a relationship back then, she certainly wasn’t ready for one now. She didn’t even know who she was anymore. Gabriella needed to do something, say something, before he moved any closer.

  “Rodrigo made it personal,” Gabriella said, attempting a half smile. She flipped her hair back over her shoulder. “He ruined my hairstyle.”

  The glib comment worked. Luke snickered and looked away.

  His eyes widened, and his mouth went slack. He shifted out of his sitting position and crossed the room. His fingers brushed over the wall directly next to her mom’s side of the closet. She squinted to see the tiny indention, the source of his study.

  “This bullet barely missed you.” His voice raw, he dropped his head in his hand. He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Gabriella. It was a horrible idea.”

  “No. No it wasn’t. We almost made it.” She replayed the past few minutes in her mind. There were about a million things she would’ve done differently if she had to do it again, first being that she would’ve gone with him in the very beginning to speed things along instead of waiting.

  “It put you in danger. If something had happened to you...”


  Her face heated as she digested his words. They really had cheated death. The very thought reminded her that her aunt still remained in harm’s way with Benito. How was she supposed to save her aunt’s life if she couldn’t get free of Rodrigo?

  “Hey.”

  She looked up at Luke’s greeting. He smiled softly. “Don’t go there.”

  Gabriella locked eyes with him, and a shiver ran up her spine. “How’d you know where my mind was going?”

  He shrugged. “It’s only natural.” He pointed at the diary she’d foolishly cast aside. What if their escape plan had worked, but she’d left the book behind? “Let’s focus on what we can do. How about you keep reading the journal?”

  She took a shaky breath and flipped it open. Just like her mother’s favorite verse, Luke reminded her that she needed to take her thoughts captive and focus on whatever was good...or in this case, the only positive thing she could accomplish while trapped in a giant steel box.

  * * *

  Luke walked around the perimeter of the small space. It seemed more like a dungeon to him. Her mom had built it almost thirty years ago. Too bad she hadn’t kept up with the upgrades. Right now, LED interior lighting would’ve helped him out. But even three decades ago, the manufacturers would have made an extra door that could only be accessed from the inside. He was sure of it.

  “And you can’t remember your mom ever telling you about an extra exit? Not even in emergencies?”

  Gabriella closed her eyes and shook her head. “If she had, I’m sure I would’ve used it to sneak out at night.”

  “Excuse me?” Luke put two hands on his hips.

  She laughed at his reaction. “I went through a rebellious phase. For a while there, Mom and Aunt Freddie took the fire ladder from my room because they couldn’t trust me.”

  “Where would you go? You’d sneak out and meet boys?”

  “Nah. I never went that far.” She twisted her mouth diagonally. “I did let my friends in through the gate sometimes, though, so we could swim in the lake in the middle of the night.”

  He frowned. “I thought it was electronic.”

  She nodded. “I know how to open it manually at the box.” She sighed. “There was one time I simply walked down the street to the general store to get candy.”

  Luke tried to picture the closest store. There was nothing for miles. “That’s a long walk.”

  She sighed. “Almost five miles. Mom was out of chocolates, and my craving couldn’t be squelched.” She laughed. “At the time I remember thinking I was invincible. That I could outrun and outwit anything that came my way. It terrified my mom. But I eventually wised up.” She scrunched her nose in disgust, seemingly at her own reference to wise guys.

  “Was there something specific that opened your eyes?”

  Gabriella shrugged. “The real world. Friends had bad experiences, and I took them to heart.” She blinked and shook her head. “But...but I do have some vague memory that there wasn’t always carpet in here.” She stroked the fibers underneath her fingertips.

  Luke’s heart sped up. “Really? When do you think that changed?”

  “I don’t remember, and I’m not positive so don’t get your hopes up.”

  His optimism refused to be tamed, spinning out of control. He could do something useful. “I think I better start pulling up the carpet.” He pointed at her. “You keep reading. This could take a while without any tools at my disposal.”

  She squinted. “I wish we had more light. My eyes are having a hard time adjusting to the changing shadows. Especially while you’re moving around.”

  Luke moved to the far end of the room where he’d disturb the light source the least. He kicked off his soggy shoes. He’d be able to get more traction without the damp things on his feet, and hopefully they’d dry faster if he turned them over on top of the vent. Now that the adrenaline had worked its way out of his system, the chill began to seep into his bones.

  Gabriella grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. She opened the book across her lap. “Not a single one of my mom’s entries go by without the words: I am so thankful for my Gab—Gabriella.” Her head dropped as her voice broke. Luke wanted to comfort her, to pull her in close, but she pulled her knees up and placed one arm around her legs as if in her own fort.

  She needed space.

  Luke moved to an edge of the flooring and grabbed the fibers of the carpet and pulled. His muscles strained and...nothing.

  He leaned back on his heels to think it through. The floor underneath the carpet was likely steel. In that case, the installation team wouldn’t have used tacks to lay down the carpet. They would’ve used glue.

  Great. He needed to go up against industrial-strength glue without any tools. He sighed. His dad or brother, the resourceful construction experts, would’ve known what to do. They always did. Luke was more a businessman than a builder.

  He exhaled and closed his eyes. If he had an exit door in the floor but had a headstrong daughter that he wanted to keep it a secret from, what would he do?

  Luke grinned. If it had been him, he’d glue the carpet down heavily everywhere...except closest to where the door would be. That way it’d be unlikely the teenager would ever find out. And over the spot with the exit, he would either only lightly glue it or not at all. He dared to hope that Gabriella’s mom would follow the same thought pattern.

  He moved to the closest corner and squatted. He dug his fingers into the carpet fibers on either side of the sharp corner. He inhaled and pulled, pressing into his heels and throwing his shoulders backward as he harnessed the power in his legs. The carpet gave, a ripping sound echoing off the walls, but it coincided with the stinging yank on his wound. He fell back and exhaled. His leg throbbed.

  Now the question was whether the carpet corner had been lightly glued or if he just had a better vantage point this time around, with proper motivation. Either way, it looked to be a long night. And his wound wasn’t going to take much more of that.

  The high-pitched whir started up again. Great. Rodrigo had gone back to drilling.

  He examined the dimly lit room. The other corners would require some rearrangement of furniture and boxes, not to mention disrupt Gabriella. Her body shook slightly, her head dipped close to the pages of the book, but if she was crying it wasn’t audible. It pained him to watch her sorrow without any comfort to bring, without any solutions to offer. So he turned back to try again.

  He grabbed the carpet and pulled again. It gave another six inches.

  Luke peeked underneath the flap he’d pulled. Yep, steel. After five more pulls with very little result, he decided to move around some furniture. He moved the dresser into the bathroom. His knuckles scraped along the door frame as he pressed, not caring about the tight fit. He’d push harder, enough to make it work. He needed room to maneuver the carpet more.

  The now-empty corner gave the same result. It gave very slightly and wreaked havoc on his leg. He quickly rebandaged the wound in the bathroom. When he reentered to try again, Gabriella’s head hung low. Her shoulders rose and fell in steady movement. How anyone could fall asleep to the whir of the drill was beyond him, but by now it had to be late into the night. And after the stress of the day and no immediate hope of a getaway or rescue, the escape of sleep enticed him, as well.

  Her head nodded and the diary dropped from her fingertips to the floor. It fell open to the middle. Luke remained standing and stared at the pages for a moment. Twice he’d encouraged her to read it, and twice she’d shut down.

  His leg throbbed to the rhythm of the drill’s grinding outside the door. If he took a short break, he could read the diary for her. An impartial party might be able to see any clues she’d left for her daughter. Or the authorities.

  His mind made up, Luke grabbed another blanket, got as comfortable as possible with his
leg killing him, and began to read.

  Freedom’s been on my mind a lot. We lived so much of our life in bondage that when I got physical freedom I thought that would be enough. But after I found freedom in Christ, I realized just how much Freddie and I had been missing out. I pray Gabriella never has to experience such bondage. It seems the time is near to give it all up. I’ve long stopped looking over my shoulder in fear, but I hope as I pray for the right timing, that I don’t open up the door to danger.

  NINE

  “Gabriella...” She felt jostled as she fought against her heavy eyelids.

  “What?” She blinked rapidly. The left side of her neck ached as if it’d been twisted in a vise. Her hand flew back and pressed into the flesh to ease the pain.

  “You fell asleep.” Luke’s scratchy voice jolted her.

  “I did? How long?” She sat upright and blinked, praying it’d been a nightmare. She looked around the room—their prison—and wished she could go back to sleep. Her dreams had to be more pleasant than the nightmare she was living.

  “I’m not sure. I was busy ripping up the carpet. And then I took a break—” He pressed a hand on his forehead and dragged it down to his chin. “I fell asleep, too.” He slammed his back against the wall and looked upward. “I hate not having a clock.”

  “I know. It’s maddening.” Gabriella’s vision adjusted. The room seemed bigger somehow. “Where’s the dresser? You moved furniture?”

  “Yeah, I put it in the bathroom. You were out. I rested for a moment and must have dozed off a few seconds myself. I think it’s the cold. It slows down our circulation systems. We need to get moving to stay awake.”

  “Ironic. Rodrigo wanted to freeze us out and instead he put us to sleep.” She shivered underneath the blanket and lifted her hand to her hair. While mostly dry, it remained damp closest to her scalp. “Wet hair probably didn’t help. What woke you up?”

  “He started drilling again when I moved the dresser out of here.” He straightened and paced two steps to the left followed by two steps to the right. If he did it much longer, she’d get dizzy. “He was at it a while. I think he stopped, and that’s what woke me up.”