I shook my head, starting to wake up. “Rocco and Rosaria.”
I told him the gist of what was about to happen. He didn’t respond but pulled me closer, keeping me tucked into the strength of his embrace.
As the sleep fog started to burn off, a strange tingling started in my toes and shot straight up to my heart. From there, it became a surge of panic that couldn’t be quelled. “Brando!” I gasped. “Let me up. Let me up!”
This sudden mood swing threw him for a loop. He was slow to react, but when he did, he sat me up, forcing me to look at him. “You’re going to be sick again.”
No, I wanted to say, but I couldn’t find the word. “Who—” I swallowed hard, trying to move the panic out of the way.Get it out, dammit!“Who’s not here, Brando? Wh-who left, dammit!” I took a quick scan of the area. I saw our men, resting on lounge chairs, then Chiara and Valentina doing the same.
“Colette, Violet, and Rosaria. One of the men went with them. Davide.” His eyes moved in time to the frantic movement of mine. “Tell me.”
“Oh my God!” I said, moving so fast that if it weren’t for Brando, I would have tumbled over the chair and into the rocks.
“Scarlett!” He shook me a bit. “Tell me!”
I couldn’t. Not really. I didn’t know. I only knew that something was terribly, terribly wrong. The slightest release of pressure on my arms, and I was off, running toward the steps.
Brando caught me a second before one foot made it to stone. He hooked me around the waist, keeping me to his front, legs still dangling but searching for purchase. Then he set me down, keeping me pinned to his side until he was ready to move.
The men on lounge chairs began to stir, roused by my panic and Brando’s mouth barking out Italian commands. He ordered them to haul ass and follow.
Rocco met us first, then Romeo, and then Donato. The five of us, trailed by blinking men, were all rushing. The steps were even more vigorous going up. Every so often Brando, Rocco, or Romeo would ask me why we were running like Luca himself was on our heels. I couldn’t give them a straight answer—just that I had to move to stop the panic from making my heart combust. What I felt was unadulterated fear. Then it came to me—the villa, the abandoned one! I quickened my pace.
As we grew closer, lungs and legs on fire, I started to slow. Brando noticed and took my hand. “The place from earlier,” was all he said.
I nodded, not able to find breath or words. It was from fear more than strenuous exertion.
Brando briefed Rocco, Romeo and Donato, then some of the men as they began to catch up. There was a string of them.
Brando caught my arm before we approached the villa, not allowing me to go any further. “You stay with me,” he said, looking around. “There are enough men to take care of the situation. And Valentina, if needed.”
A noise that could’ve disturbed the dead bounced from one side of the stones to the next. It echoed down the steps and made my bones rattle. The sound came from Rocco, followed by an eruption of panicked Italian. Valentina shoved her way through the masses.
Uncle Tito and Aunt Lola hadn’t joined us, but I took comfort that there was another set of hands if we needed them not too far behind.
“Oh God,” I whimpered. A strong breeze kicked up, dusting off the ancient stones, and I smelled it in the air, as distinctive as lemon or sage—the metallic tang of blood.
Brando pulled me closer to his chest, kissing my head, but I felt the direction of his gaze. It was locked on the active scene. Mitch and Mick bullied their way through, another set of sounds adding to the panicked confusion.
“Violet!” I went to tear away, but Brando kept me back, promising me that I could see her after the place had been secured.
What if she was…and I’d never get to see her again?
“Keep it together, baby,” Brando whispered.
A few of the men tore forward at Romeo’s command, running in different directions since he had taken charge. Romeo broke free from the group, his face livid, eyes blazing. For a second he stood there, staring ahead. Then he shook his head and found us.
“Tell me,” Brando said.
“It is not good,fratello.” He looked down at me and then up at his brother, silently asking for permission to speak.
Brando nodded.
“Rosaria has been assaulted. Someone took her roughly. Left her there afterward. Viola fought, and perhaps because of this she became too much trouble. She is knocked unconscious but coming to. Collette is hovering in the corner, but otherwise, she is unscathed. She hid from the start, it seems. She refuses to talk. Davide—” he ran a hand through his hair and looked around for a moment “—is wounded. I do not think he is going to die.”
“Tell me who,” Brando said, the stillness in him more frightening than his outright anger.
“Ah, from what we can understand—the American football players. Two of them this time. Rosaria cannot say much more. She is trembling like a leaf and her eyes—” Romeo’s fists tightened. “They do not see.”
