“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” Desi, softer and lighter than his twin, gazes at me like I’ve always wanted, like Iamwanted.
I wish I had never gotten out of their bed. I was removed from the case anyway. What was the point?
Maybe minutes later, I’m startled awake by the thud of footsteps on the stairs, a hollow sound that reverberates above me. The cadence suggests more than one person, and an icy dread clutches my chest, my heart slamming against my ribs.
Despite the terror, my mind remains murky, time distorted. I await the next brutal interrogation, the next nightmare, but nothing comes.
I swear I hear something or someone moving around me, but my brain plays tricks on me. No energy, no struggle left, I fade out.
My body jostles, and my head swims, falling forward onto a soft, warm surface. A familiar scent envelops me, replacing the musty odor that clings to my nostrils, and a fragile whimper claws its way out of my raw throat.
“I got you, piccino.” That deep, velvet tone haunts my dreams again. “You’re okay.”
“Dante, I need your knife.” Why is Reece in my dream? “Careful. They’re embedded.”
“Motherfucker, I hope we find one to torture. I’m slicing their wrists and letting ’em bleed out while I stomp their fucking face in.”
“Save some for me, brother.”
Relief washes over me. Nothing can harm me now, not with these three here, and I finally surrender to oblivion.
Searing, bone-deep pain has me bolting upright. Or at least I try to. A sharp spasm in my spine freezes me mid-motion, stealing the air from my lungs.
Reality crashes in. I’m caged in a basement, beaten unconscious by cruel, disgusting men, and hands are upon me. I tense, my breath coming in rapid puffs, and blink against the sudden light to clear my spotty vision.
Obsidian eyes stare back at me. “You’re safe.” Desi kneels between my legs, cups my nape, and gently guides me to rest on his chest, my head on his shoulder. “Hold still, baby. Reece is working on your wrists.”
The binds release and my arms go slack, falling limp at my sides, and a weak groan pushes past my lips. Blood flows toplaces previously numb, and more pain follows. The world spins, a dizzying blur, and I shut my eyes to stop from throwing up.
Desi ghosts his knuckles over my swollen, throbbing cheek. “How many did this?”
I swallow hard to wet my dry, scratchy throat. “Four,” I rasp, barely audible.
“We only found three. No one is down here. Dante is keeping watch,” he explains.
“They say anything?” Reece unslings his bag from his uninjured shoulder and lets it fall to the floor beside me. “I need to clean and bandage your wrists first. They’re bleeding.”
I give a slight nod and mumble, “Wanted to know what O’Reilly turned over. Told them I was removed from the case.”
If I’d given them what they’d demanded, I’d have been useless, killed.
With practiced skill, Reece swiftly retrieves and prepares the medical supplies. “That true?”
“Yeah.” I’ve witnessed him work countless times as a medic, and the sight brings tears to my eyes. “Thank you,” I whisper, my throat thick with emotion. “You didn’t have to. You’re injured.”
“What kind of partner would I be if I left you here? Huh?” He rips open a package of gauze with his teeth. “Fuck, I’m sorry we weren’t here sooner. I’ve called for backup; they’re on the way, but you know how they are.”
They’ll need to clear the area before EMS can safely enter. Otherwise, these three will have to carry me out, which might be risky if someone is waiting upstairs to ambush us.
He flushes my open wounds with sterile solution and wraps them while Des talks me through it.
“Now that you’re free…what are your plans for Christmas? Are you going to New York with the rest of the gang? If not, you should. You could meet our parents.” He places a tender kiss onmy forehead despite the likely blood and grime. “Or we could meet yours. That’s fine too. We’ll split our time.”
For the love of caffeine, no. “Can we just lie in your bed?”
“He doesn’t like people,” Reece tells him. “He has a severe concussion. His breathing is shallow. He’s lost some blood. He needs to be in a hospital.” He takes my hand, rests it on his thigh, and cleans my skin, the biting smell of alcohol reaching my nose. “Slight prick.” He inserts the IV needle, secures it, and clips the bag to the shoulder of his vest.
The cool liquid floods my veins, and I shiver. Desi wraps his arms about me tighter, his heart beating a steady rhythm in my ear, and my eyes grow heavy, exhaustion threatening to drag me under.
