“I can hold them off,” Mateo breaks in. “Buy you time. But you have to go, Dario. You have to go now!”
Despite the impossibility of all I’ve just learned and the rage that has come with it, my brain finally clicks into action. Logic takes hold. Reluctantly, I lower the gun from where it’s been aimed at Mateo’s skull. I turn toward my brother, who breathes an audible sigh of relief.
“Get out of here!” Mateo repeats, urgency making the words sharp and staccato.
Although he’s urging us to leave, I don’t take my eyes off of him as I back away. He doesn’t move. His hands are still raised as we keep backing off, sliding further into the shadows.
“Cowards!” Eduardo barks out. “Fucking pussies!” He’s raised himself somehow, and when I look in his direction, I realize that he has something clutched in his fists.
“Down!” I yell at Raoul, who’s still looking in the direction of where the police teams are swarming to overpower the remaining mobsters. Others are leading victims from the containers. It’s a fucking mess. But what’s worse is the handgun Eduardo is pointing right at us. As if in slow motion, I see him squeeze his finger on the trigger, and then the gun kicks back in his hand. I press a hand over Raoul’s shoulder, feeling the searing heat of the slug that skims past my side, taking a swathe of flesh from my bicep as it passes. Flesh wound. Hurts like fuck but doesn’t slow me as I turn and prepare to take aim at my pig of a cousin. But a shot rings out before I can get there. As if acting on instinct, Raoul has snapped up his gun.
I see Eduardo jerk once as a slug pierces his chest. Two more shots slam into him, but I’m pretty sure they weren’t necessary. The sound that had been mad laugher is now a gurgling death rattle. The beast who was my cousin is no longer with us. And I don’t feel a shred of remorse.
But now it’s Raoul who’s springing into action as the pair of us spin away, hauling me along with him. My shoulder blades twitch for a second, half waiting for Mateo to take aim and fire upon us. Take us down along with the others who’ve died here today.
But nothing comes. No hail of bullets. No loudhailers tell us to stop and lay down our weapons. And we run. Run as if our lives depend on it.
Because right now, they do.
Chapter 3
Nikki Love
Idon’t know how long I’ve been sitting in this nightmare room, but it feels like an entire lifetime…possibly two. Though, in those moments when my rational brain reboots itself, it’s probably closer to two or three hours.
It’s hard to tell. There are no windows here. No natural light – illumination comes from the blinding bare bulb overhead. And I wish it was dark, because that light keeps drawing my eyes to the horrifying torture devices hanging from the walls. Most terrifying of all being the pair of pruning shears lying on the otherwise featureless bed against the wall. I try not to look at them, remembering the things Raoul had said that day I overheard him and Dario speaking. They’d cut off a man’s fingers…probably with those shears, in this very room.
Am I next?
I want to throw up.
After Dario’s man had flung me into this hellhole, I’d banged on the door until my fists felt bruised. I’d screamed, cursed, begged, and pleaded. It was pointless. There’d been pure silence from the other side of the door. He’d obviously locked me in here then left.
And now I wait.
Wait for the sound of footsteps coming back down the hall. And terror fills me. The man I’ve lost my heart to, will be returning any moment. And then what?
But beyond the immediate fear of what might happen to me when he returns, is the pressing fear of what is happening to my sister right now. Every minute that passes could be taking her further away. For likely to be lost to us forever. I’ve never felt more powerless in my entire existence.
I slide down the wall until I’m sitting on my haunches on one side of the room. I rest my forearms over my bent knees, and stare at the doorway. My ears strain for signs of life from outside. There’s nothing, although every now and again, my mind plays tricks on me. I’m sure I hear screaming.
It’s all in my head. It has to be…figments of my overactive imagination. Dario has gone, and he’s left me here.Why? Because I betrayed him? Left with a fortune of his mother’s diamonds? Disrespected the Caraldi name? All I was doing was trying to spare more lives. Spare myself the heartache of being bound to this man and what he’s willing to do.
Oh, God!
I rub my face with both hands, then continue to stare at the door. Time drags by…another lifetime. Cold sweat soaks into my shirt and dampens my hair. By the time I hear the sound of footsteps ringing down the hall, I almost pee myself with terror.
Without announcement, the door flies open, and I shoot to my feet. Waiting for Dario…afraid of what he’s got planned for me. And yet my traitorous heart almost aches to see him. But the man in the doorway isn’t Dario Caraldi. Not my lover…my tormentor.
Mateo Ricci fills the space, his towering form looming. I choke back a cry of fear.
If it had been Dario…maybe I’d have been able to reason with him. Plead for my life. But Mateo…
The man hates me.
“Come,” he says abruptly, his voice cold as ice. I shrink back, shaking my head mutely. When he strides further into the room, I make a bleating sound and scramble away. “For fuck’s sakes, come with me!” he snaps. When he reaches for my arm, I lash out at him blindly.
“No!” I scream. “No! Get away from me!” I’m shrieking like a banshee as my nails rake down his cheek, sink into his arm. I kick out at him, my shoes meeting his shins. His face darkens and I know I’ve crossed the line, but I’m operating on panic.
