My pápa would come get me. He’d get every single man, made or not, to come to my aid. The thought makes me smile. He’d blow Finn’s brains out, scoop me up, and take me home like I was the most precious thing to him.
But there’s no white knight coming to save me.
The only thing outside of this house waiting for me is more pain, and I wonder if any of it is worth it.
A sense of loss, not for my pàpa but for me, flows through me.
I’ll never get to figure out who I am. I couldn’t decide before, if I wanted to stay in Las Vegas or if I should run away. I was too scared.
I should have fucking ran.
I should have bought a one-way ticket to bum-fuck-Arkansas and never looked back. I could have bought a small apartment, found another club to work at, or somewhere seedier. At least it would be my choice.
Maybe I’d fall in love, have the white picket fence, the cat I’ve always wanted, and a few kids.
It was a stupid dream for a stupid girl.
I think I might hate myself just as much as I hate the men who locked me in this room. Maybe if I was braver, smarter, more determined, I wouldn’t be in this mess.
God, it’s been one day in this damn room, and I’m already cracking.
There’s, of course, the horrific ache eating me from the inside out. The need to be touched and cared for. My upcoming heat isn’t something I can hide from, just like there’s no hiding from the fact that I’m being held here against my will.
I think I’d rather die than let any of these assholes touch me during my heat.
17
CILLIAN
I’m notsurprised that Finn doesn’t pick me up when I get discharged.
Declan looks worse for wear as I sign all the forms and hobble on my crutches. There was enough damage in my thigh muscle that I’ll need some physical therapy and time to heal. Best-case scenario. I’ll be back to normal in a few months. Worst-case scenario, my walk will probably never be the same.
I’m going to fucking kill Anthony Amante.
I’d considered keeping him alive for Elena’s sake at first. She has no other living family members besides him, but now, Elena will just have to grieve being an only child. She won’t be an Amante for much longer, anyway.
Not only has the bastard likely left a lasting effect on my leg, but he killed Cian. Rory has to learn how to be left-handed, and I don’t even want to know what he would do if he got his hands on Elena.
My leg fucking burns, but this is more important. He needs to be taken care of so that I know Elena and my men are safe.
“You sure you want to do this? Finn is going to be pissed!” Declan asks.
He opens my car door for me and if I had a free hand, I’d give him the finger. He takes my crutches and tosses them in the back before getting in the driver’s seat.
“Fuck Finn. He wants to make unilateral decisions for the family, then I’ll do the same.”
“You sure?”
“Dezhurov hates the Amantes nearly as much as we do, and he doesn’t like the way the Novikovs operate. We don’t have the numbers, not if Anthony has back up from Salvatore Barbieri.”
“They’ve been coy about what side they’re on. Anthony apparently proposed to his daughter; Salvatore hasn’t given his blessing just yet,” Declan informs me.
Poor fucking girl.
“We need to sway him. Lev Dezhurov is reasonable. He’s got to realize Anthony is unbalanced”
“Finn is working on it, but he doesn’t want the Russians involved.”
