It could have been anyone’s house - a family home perhaps - if it wasn’t for the five scary as hell men in the room, staring at her. She recognized one of them as the big man that she kicked, and he glowered at her from where he was leaning against the wall.
All of them were dressed in black and she counted three handguns in sight, but there was no doubt in her mind that they were all armed. Amy’s knees felt weak as her eyes darted around. Aside from the big angry guy, there were two men on the couch, sitting at opposite ends, one on the loveseat, and one standing in the doorway leading to the kitchen with his arms crossed over his chest.
Each and every one of them were giving off aggressive vibes. It was in the way they glared at her and held themselves, even the ones sitting down. They all looked ready to fight at a moment’s notice. If it was an intimidation technique, it worked. She swallowed hard.
She’d almost forgotten about the man holding her arm until he released his grip on her and the blood flowing made her limb tingle. Turning to him, she felt her breath catch in her throat.
She knew this man.
Kind of.
He was her co-worker’s boyfriend. He came into the coffee shop sometimes to see Wendy, and Amy had always been uncomfortable around him. He was loud-mouthed and cocky, and she’d seen Wendy with bruises on her wrist once that looked suspiciously like a handprint.
Much like the ones she’d probably now have on her arm.
What was this guy’s name? She struggled to remember for a moment before it came to her.
“Matteo?”
His jaw clenched when she said his name, as if it made him angry that she knew who he was.
“Shut up,” he snapped as she pulled out a switchblade. Her heart stopped for a moment, but he just used it to cut the zip tie binding her. “Come with me.”
He started to reach for her arm again, but Amy jerked backward as she rubbed her wrists, the skin red and sore.
“Lead the way,” she said tensely. She didn’t have much of a choice other than to go along with this for now.
Matteo turned to a hallway leading off the living room, and she followed, nibbling on her lower lip nervously. There were doors lining the right side of the hallway, and they passed two before Matteo paused and pushed open the third.
It was a bedroom, and there were two more men in here. She stepped inside behind Matteo, her eyes on the man in the bed. He was hurt somehow, based on the way his face was scrunched up in pain. His brow was wet with sweat, even though it was cool in here, and his breathing was heavy.
“Is this the doctor?”
Amy’s attention was drawn to the other man in the room as he asked the question. He was standing by the bed with his hands tucked into the pocket of his black suit. His dark eyes were trained on her, and his mouth was a thin line as he frowned at her.
Doctor?
“No,” she said, noting that this man was older than the others here. There were fine wrinkles around his eyes and he had salt and pepper hair. “I’m not a doctor.”
“She’s almost a doctor,” Matteo butted in, shooting a dirty look, as if she’d said something wrong. “My girl says she’s in med school.”
Oh.
That was why she was here? To treat this man for some kind of injury?
“You’re going to help my son,” the older man said with all the authority of someone that was used to getting his way. “”If he makes it, you’ll be returned home.”
She swallowed hard around the lump in her throat. “And if he doesn’t?”
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Ice raced down her spine.
“Let’s just say, he’d better make it.”
The threat was clear. Her life depended on how this turned out.
Damn it, why did her manager have to hire Wendy three months ago? The woman sucked at her job and now her boyfriend had dragged Amy into some kind of seedy bullshit.
“What’s wrong with him?” she asked.
