The desk clerk is intrigued.Whether by the drama involved in saving lives, or the corner of the hundred peeking out of my wallet.
“No one has to know you told us anything,” I add.“We could just watch from the parking lot and wait for him to come back.But there are lives at stake.”
“Room Eight.”The guy holds out his palm for a handshake.
I pass him the money before following after Damiano, who has already made his way outside.
Room Eight looks the same as the other doors on either side of it.Faded paint, worse for wear, smudges along the edge, scuffs at the bottom where people have held it open.The curtains are closed, but so are most of the others.Probably wise, as the only view is this sad parking lot.
Damiano presses his ear to the door and listens.At my questioning look, he shakes his head.
I debate whether calling through the door would be better or worse.If Francesco is in there, it would be worse.
Better to go in by surprise and by force.I take a step back, raise my leg, and kick in the door.
Two women scream in fear.
Madison and Alessia kneel on the floor next to a dresser.Their faces transform from terror to relief when they see Damiano and me rushing in.They wear matching bruises on their faces and their wrists are tied together with plastic zip ties.
“Seth,” Madison whispers.“Thank god.But we have to hurry—he just went out for food, he’ll be back any second.”
With Damiano’s utility knife, I cut through their ties, freeing their hands.Alessia gets free first, and rushes to Damiano.
“Come on, let’s go.”I start to help Madison to her feet when a large man—Francesco—appears in the doorway.
Alessia screams.
Before Damiano can react, Francesco punches him in the face, knocking him backward.
15
DAMIANO
The ugly motherfucker caught me by surprise.I fall back, one foot behind the other, before finding my balance.
Alessia is behind me.I put out an arm, hoping to protect her.Seth stands in front of Madison.
“Francesco, listen to me,” I say in Italian.“It’s time to let go.Alessia loved you, but the relationship is over.You must move on, just as she must.”
“Oh, and you think she should move on with you?”Spittle flies from his mouth and his cheeks darken with anger.“You criminal bastard, thinking she could ever love you again?—”
“We aren’t together, Alessia and me.”
“That is bullshit!”He puts his hand to his waistband and whips it back with a gun.
Fuck.I hold up my hands.Usually Seth would already be on this situation, but he’s also protecting Madison, and I can’t fault him for that.
“Listen, please, Francesco.”I keep my hands where he can see them.
But of course, he still views me as a threat.His finger moves on the trigger.
I drop down, pulling Alessia with me, and the shot echoes above my head.
While I leap to my feet, Seth moves into action, grabbing Francesco’s arm and squeezing it behind him.Francesco drops the gun.I kick it behind me, far from Francesco.
As Francesco elbows himself free of Seth’s hold, he reaches into his jacket pocket at the same time.
This time, instead of a gun, he pulls out a knife.
