I tear it out of his grip and sit back down. Because I know whatever this is, it will bring me to my knees.
And I’m not wrong.
Chapter 46
Killian
Two days, six hours and forty-seven minutes. I glance at my watch. Forty-eight minutes. That’s how long that cocksucker has had Sam in his clutches. Four hours. That’s how much bleedin’ sleep I’ve managed in that time.
But as I stare out the window of the plane en route back to New York, I feel laser focused and not a bit wrecked. I’ve only brought Shay and Pat with me to watch my back. My intel says Barone is being protected by some of Amato’s men. Da’s right. This can’t turn into a mafia war. Luckily, Dunn came through, now I just have to hope Amato took the bait.
“You sure this is the best way to do this? You going in alone?” Pat asks.
I move my gaze to where he’s seated across from me, concern pinching his brows. Then I shrug. “You got a better idea?”
He blows out a breath and gives a slow shake of his head. “Wish I did.”
Chapter 47
Samantha
Istare at myself in the full-length mirror. It’s like looking out of a stranger’s eyes.
I’m freshly showered, my hair blown out and curled, my makeup done and wearing a black lace wedding dress that hugs my body and hits me mid-thigh. Michael bought it. Because that was Michael’s price for Rona’s life. That I marry him. Bind myself to him legally and never run again. Because there will be no second chances. For me or Rona. Black is appropriate.
I lift my hands and stare at them. They don’t feel like my hands. My skin doesn’t feel like my skin. There’s a thin, hollow ringing inside my head. The memories of the last forty-eight hours are there, but they’re muted, void of color.
After I signed the marriage contract, Michael dragged me back to the bedroom. He ordered me to remove my clothes and get on the bed. Then he clasped the metal shackle back around my scarred ankle.
Power. That was his drug.
The first time he did it, I was terrified. I fought, I screamed, I begged, I wrapped my arms around my body trying to protect myself. This time, I calmly did what he said, not because I felt calm but because I realized it was the fight that aroused him. That fed his sense of power.
So, this time, when he told me to lie on my stomach as he ripped off his belt, I didn’t fight him. This time when he undressed and climbed on top of my bruised and beaten body, I lay like a wet noodle beneath him. I refused to react to his stinging slaps, his insults, his threats. I watched from far away in my mind as his frustration made him soft and impotent. When he couldn’t get his dick hard to rape me, he grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me until my teeth rattled. When that got no reaction, he wrapped his hands around my throat and squeezed, his eyes narrowing as I smiled.
Finally, with a roar of defeat, he leaned down and bit my breast hard enough to draw blood. I still didn’t react.
With one last slap, he climbed off me and stood, breathing hard, glaring down at me. “After you’re my wife, I will own that cold cunt, Samantha. And I will use it every day of the rest of your pathetic life.”
I stared at the chandelier above me and sank into the numbness like it was a warm blanket.
I thought that would be the worst of it, but being left there with nothing but my thoughts afterwards was enough to drive me mad. All kinds of horrifying scenarios played out in my head for two days. About Rona. About Celia. What if he gave Rona to the organ trafficker anyway? No, then he would lose his leverage over me. But Celia? There was nothing keeping her alive. I know he’s kept people in his basement. Celia told me about the screams she’d heard coming from there. I hope she’s not down there.
I’m back in the present, though I still feel like I’m underwater, everything is a little soft around the edges and there’s a crushing weight on my chest that’s making it hard to get sufficient oxygen.
I’m about to seal my fate and Rona’s. It will be a different kind of prison. A different kind of hell. One wrapped in a pretty package for the outside world. Anyone outside will see a dutiful wife.
My empty stomach churns with acid. I rest a shaky hand over it, willing myself not to puke.
Then I let myself think about Killian one last time. I look into his beautiful green eyes, kiss him goodbye in my mind and then tuck his memory into a box and lock it. I can’t bear to remember what we could’ve had. The joy. The freedom. The love. I’ll go mad. It would’ve almost been better if I’d never known what I was missing.
Chapter 48
Killian
Pat and Shay wait as I cross the street in the East Village. The text from Sandro came in as soon as I turned on my Wi-Fi after the plane landed.
Sandro:John’s on 12th. Good luck
