"I'm aware."
His hand comes out of nowhere, slapping me across the face. Pain exploded through my cheek, and I staggered. Blood fills my mouth, but I swallow it. I refuse to show him any weakness.
De Luca exhales, disappointed. "You should have broken her. Fear keeps women obedient."
My vision goes red at his comment. I will never make Julia fear me.
I keep my voice steady. "You told me to bring her. I couldn't drag her here without tipping her off."
"I guess you did what you could," he says. "Which means you're still useful."
His men step up behind me and grab my arms before I can react, then force me to my knees, with a loud crack as my bones hit the concrete. A fist slams into my ribs, and this time I can't hide the grunt of pain.
"This," De Luca continues calmly, "is what happens when you disappoint me."
Another hit... then another. They don't rush the hits; they pause between each one, stretching out the punishment for their enjoyment.
I focus on my breathing and staying conscious. I focus on the clock that is ticking in Kai's head until I return, on Julia asleep, peacefully unaware of the fact that De Luca is still invested.
Which means our trap is holding.
When they finally stop, I'm breathing hard, and my hands are shaking on the concrete.
De Luca crouches in front of me and grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him.
"You will find her," he says. "And when you do, you will bring her directly to me. Willingly... or in pieces. Do you understand?"
I nod once.
Once he is satisfied, he releases me and stands to his full height.
"One way or another, my daughter will come home."
They leave me there, bleeding and bruised, but alive, which was the goal.
I stay on my knees until I hear the last car pull away, then stand. I smile through the pain because he now thinks she ran, and he thinks he's chasing.
I just hope it’s enough.
Chapter 25
Kai
The second Mikey walks through the door, I can feel something's wrong.
He is moving like he always does after a hit, but it's not the injuries that set me on edge... It's his face.
There's no real relief there.
I'm on my feet before the door clicks shut. "You good?"
Mikey shrugs off his jacket and hangs it on the back of the chair. "Yeah," he says too quickly. That's strike number one.
I grab his wrists before he can move past me. "Sit." He doesn't argue. That's strike number two.
He drops onto the couch, staring at nothing as I walk to the closet to grab the med kit. I've patched him up enough times to know the routine: ice, compression, and silence.
But since there is stuff that needs to be discussed, his wish for silence is going to be ignored this round.
