*Meanwhile*

"Just give them more time!" Marcus shouted to the man over the phone. He couldn't believe Devin hadn't delivered the money on time and now he had to beg for them not to harm Dahlia. Their relationship was toxic to say the least but he still cared for her.

"More time? The money was supposed to be delivered half an hour ago," the man said over the phone. Before he could respond he was interrupted by a deep voice from behind him.

"There's no more stalling Nicholson, it's time." The abandoned factory was engulfed in darkness. He could barely make out the figures around him. He just knew of Morty that had been watching over Dahlia, the other guy with burly muscles who looked like he had been trained in the army. They called him Mitch. Then there were three other men that came in and out to do the boss' bidding and the wife.

"Fuck you scared me." Marcus' voice echoed off the factory floor and walls, bouncing off the moulded and rusted metal pipes. It was used to manufacture metal products of all sorts before the market crashed several years ago, plunging the entire city's economy into a never-ending decline. 

"Give me the phone." The man ordered. Marcus was reluctant to hand it to him, but he knew what it would have meant for himself and his mother if he tried to back out now. There were very few people he truly feared, and this man was one of them. The man stepped closer, and Marcus could make out his gruesome features under the moonlight. He passed the phone to him.

"Was the money delivered?" He asked.

Marcus couldn't hear the response.

"Very well. I gave them time," the man said turning to Marcus, "and they didn't deliver."

"Stay there, if they show up, take the kid." He ordered before hanging up the phone.

"You, fetch the girl." He said before throwing the phone back at Marcus.

"No, this wasn't a part of the deal, you said-" Marcus tried to protest. He didn't want to see Dahlia die.

"What are you worrying about? I said I'd only cut off a few parts. Don't want that beautiful face to lose her life so soon." When Marcus didn't move, he continued his threat.

"But if you don't get moving, I might reconsider keeping you alive. Now go get her!"

When Marcus didn't turn around immediately, he pulled out a Glock and pointed it squarely on the centre of his forehead. Marcus took in a sharp breath. Was Dahlia truly worth his own life? He did feel the bulldozer of guilt trampling his mind, reminding him that he had a part in this. But he had hoped that Devin would pull through and they'd all live through this.

"Now Marcus, I'm guessing you want to get through this alive too right? But may I remind you, you are expendable. Many others can play your part from now on." Marcus turned to leave.

This wasn't a part of the plan. He was just supposed to get Dahlia and Devin in the right place. He wasn't supposed to be this involved, but the man needed him to help keep them on the right track. Devin had already made matters worse by barking up the Gills and Juno tree.

Despite his feelings towards Dahlia, the man threatened his mother's life. He held a knife to her throat right before him. As much as he loved Dahlia, and cared for her, he couldn't let him hurt his mother.

He didn't know who the man was, or why he was so hell-bent on destroying the Vickers. But he said he wasn't going to kill Dahlia. Marcus wouldn't let that happen, he had enough on his conscience.

When he turned down the narrow hallway that led to the room where Dahlia was being held, he heard the commotion. The huffing of two voices carried down the path. As he got closer to the door, his heart fell when a heavy thud hit the floor. He wondered for a moment how she could have gotten out. In a way, he was proud that she'd been fighting as aggressively as she had. She never was the type to give up that easily.

He contemplating rushing in and defending her from whoever she was fighting. If it was Morty, he would be easy to take down, but Mitch was a different story. What if it was both?
He decided against fighting now. He'd try to stall a little longer.

"Hey! It's time," he said at the edge of the doorway, turning away quickly so she couldn't see his face. He listened as she struggled to fight Mitch, no doubt she was weakened by the lack of food and water.

Her hands were bound and she was blindfolded. Marcus stepped aside when she was dragged to the doorway to let them pass. He stepped inside the room to investigate the scene.

The first thing he noticed was the pool of blood. His eyes followed the trail that was left when the bleeding person must have been dragged. They rested on Morty's body in the far corner. He wasn't moving.

Marcus couldn't help the smirk that creeped across his face. He probably got what he deserved. And that girl sure knew how to survive. But the implications of her actions will worsen her situation, which would make it harder for him to get her out of it.

He walked briskly to catch up to the two, contemplating what would be his next move. Mitch had hooked each arm under hers and was dragging her backway up the metal stairs. Seeing that she was barely conscious, he decided to heave her over his shoulders and carry her the rest of the way.

When they got back to the main level, another chair was set up right next to the ancient conveyor belts. The dampness of the room weighed down the air, which could be the reason Marcus was having difficulty breathing. Or was it that his girlfriend was about to die and he didn't know how to stop it.

"Welcome Dahlia." The man said when she was tied to another metal chair.

The blindfold was removed from her eyes. She slowly lifted her head and squinted her eyes to find out where she'd been brought to, but it was too dark.

As a precaution, Marcus stood directly behind her chair, he wasn't ready for her to know that he was involved.

"Dahlia?" The bent down and whispered gently in her ear. If these were different circumstances, it would have seemed like he cared for her. He pushed a dark curly tendril of hair behind her ear. She moaned, trying her best to get away but her head still pounded from the fight she was in earlier.

"Are you hearing me, dear?" He asked, but didn't wait for her to respond. The wife shifted on her feet, obviously uncomfortable with the man's tenderness towards their prisoner.

"You see your brothers weren't able to deliver the money on time. I am a man of my word. Although it was delayed slightly..." He said looking over at Marcus.

He removed himself from before her and kept talking.

"It means that we will have to find some way to encourage them, so the next thing I ask them to do, they won't fuck around." He nodded towards Mitch who pulled a tool from his back pocket. Dahlia didn't respond until she saw him approach with what looked like pliers.

"No remarks this time dear Dahlia? It's too bad, I am going to miss those pretty little fingers of yours."

Each of her hands were tied to the arm of the chair. Mitch lifted his her right index finger, the rusted edges of the pliers grazed her skin.

"No no no," she began to mumble. Marcus contemplated attacking now, but he didn't have his weapon, they always took it from him before he entered. He would wait. At least she wasn't going to die yet.

"No begging? No screaming? Huh?" He asked. Dahlia's throat felt so scratchy that she feared it would bleed if she tried to speak.

The man was disappointed by her lack of response. He obviously wanted her reaction, like he craved it. His heir sent shivers down her arms and legs and paralyzed her ability to fight back. Possibly she was tired of fighting.

"Or maybe I should just shoot you now?" He declared, pulling the Glock from his waist. He unclicked the safety and aimed it squarely on her head.

Still, she didn't respond. He sighed heavily and gestured to Mitch.

"Do it."

Mitch began to squeeze the pliers. She clenched her teeth as the full rusted part meant to cut through wires clamped down on her finger. Tears stung at her eyes as she stifled her scream. He bent down to her level, inches from her face, daring her to make a noise. As the tool pierced through her skin, she let it out, screaming at the top of her lungs.

Marcus cringed as the sound echoed through the empty factory. The man and his wife smiled in satisfaction, as Dahlia's torturous screams persisted. Then, they were interrupted by a phone ringing. It took Marcus a while to realize that it was his phone from earlier. Mitch stopped the torture and everyone looked at him. Dahlia's screams subsided.

Marcus pulled the phone out of his pocket and recognized it as the same number from earlier. The man who was supposed to capture Darius.

"Um, I think it's for you," Marcus said tossing the phone to him. He caught it and answered, obviously annoyed at the interruption.

"What is it? Oh? Diamonds? Well, I guess that changes things. Well Dahlia he said, I guess your brothers came through. Congratulations my dear, you get to keep those beautiful fingers after all."

~~~~

"Ok, I'll tell them." The guy said as he groveled at Devin's feet on one knee. The other knee had been shot out point-blank, and he gripped it dearly.

"What did he say?!" Devin shouted at the man.

"He said, she's still alive," he responded through short gasps of air. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"She's gonna stay alive if you do part two."

"Part two? What are you talking about?" Devin inquired.

"I don't know man." Devin aggressively grabbed the man by the collar and punched him.

He fell over and spat blood on the grass. Devin was angry. Not just angry, furious. Not too long ago the man kneeling before us had tried to grab me the same way Dahlia was taken.

I had gone to drop off the money in the bin like they instructed. Devin hated the idea, but I insisted that I had to do it, for Dahlia.

He was always close by watching my back just as I always watched his. I dropped the money in the bin and was running back to where I had left Devin when a man came out of nowhere and grabbed me around my shoulders.

Not again. I thought. How many times would I be taken in 36 hours? The man was hauling me towards a car that I hadn't noticed before. It was hidden by a hedge.

When he got to the car and was about to toss me in the trunk; I heard a bang that would have surely woken the surrounding neighbourhood, but no one would date emerge from their fortress. The man's grip loosened and I shrugged him off. I turned around to see that Devin had shot him. He crumpled to the ground, grabbing the back of his knee.

Devin had grabbed him and started to question him, punching him between each one.

Where is Dahlia? Punch! Who took her? Punch! Why were they doing this? Punch! He was desperation was palpable and I understood why but, I had to stop him before he knocked the man out. We had to be logical. We delivered the money so we made the man call whoever it was that was in charge.

Now we were using the diamonds Devin had found as a bargaining chip for being late and saving Dahlia's life. Thank God it worked.

"Devin, he doesn't know," I said stopping him from his onslaught, before the man he was rendered unconscious.

"We have to go." I urged.

"Fine." He said before taking the man's phone, money, firearm and knives.

When Devin was done, the man was left with only the clothes on his back. We took the car too and left him there.

I wasn't sure where we were going, but we were heading into town in the direction of the house we were staying in before all this happened.

I wasn't sure why. Devin had that look on his face, a mix of furiousness and desperation. With each moment we spent trying to save Dahlia, his eyes were covered in another layer of darkness. As if the more we went down this road, the more willing he would be to do anything. It made me tense.

We had done all this to keep Dahlia alive but we still didn't know where she was or why she was even taken.
We didn't have any proof that she was still alive. He could have been lying and she was already dead.

Whoever took her was ready to take me. It was like he was trying to pick us off one by one, leaving Devin alone.

It felt almost personal. But why? Why us? One thing I was sure of and I think Devin was starting to realize was that it wasn't Gills. This went much deeper than Gills.