“Goddammit!” he mutters, snaring my wrists and overpowering me easily. “Nikki…Nikki, calm down!” I’m still shaking my head, twisting like an angry eel, trying to break free. “Nikki, I’m here to help!”
His words don’t sink in. I’m in pure survival mode. Besides, he has to be lying. Trying to lull me into a false sense of safety before… Before what? He hacks off my fingers with the shears?
“No!” I scream again. And then the air whooshes out of my lungs as he scoops me up and flings me over his shoulder.
“Calm down!” he says again, more impatiently this time. I kick and flail, but it’s pointless. One burly arm has me pinned against him, and my feet hit out at nothing, my puny fists barely making a dent in his broad back. Oblivious to me, his long legs chew up the narrow passageway leading to the exit.
By the time we emerge into the daylight, I’m blinded. When he sets me down, I’m blinking. My knees buckle, but he keeps a firm grip on my upper arm.
“Please…please…” I babble foolishly. Part of me is so angry with myself for being so weak, so physically powerless. But these men are evil beyond my comprehension, and I’m completely at their mercy. Resisting is a complete waste of time, but I fight on regardless. Until the strength finally leaves me. “Please, don’t kill me, Mateo,” I plead, sucking air into heaving lungs. “I swear, I’ll never—”
“Nikki!” Mateo interrupts, lifting my chin with his index finger and meeting my tear-soaked eyes with his own. “Nikki, don’t make me slap some sense into you,” he adds, then shakes his head. “That bullshit never works in real life, anyhow,” he mutters, almost to himself. He grips me by both shoulders. “I’m here to help!”
I stare at him in confusion. “I don’t…I don’t understand.”
“There was a raid this morning. Dario and Raoul were involved,” he says. I’m still staring, still confused. What is he saying?
“Where…where are they? Where is he?” I ask. Should I care? How would it help me now?
Mateo rubs his eyes with one hand then looks back down at me, as if putting his next sentence together.
“Nikki, I’m with the FBI,” he says. My eyes widen. “I’ve been running a covert operation monitoring Caraldi family activity for several years.”
“I… You… What?” I ask numbly. This makes no sense. Mateo is Dario’s right-hand. He doesn’t trust anyone as much as this man. Not even his own father. Least of all his father.
“I’m here to take you to safety,” he says. His tone has grown gentler. “I’m sorry. I scared you…I wasn’t thinking clearly.” He rubs his eyes again. It seems so strange to see Mateo like this. He’s normally impassive, implacable. Yet now his hair is wild, as if he’s run his hands through it. His face is streaked with dirt, his clothes dusty. I’m sure the smeared across his shirt is blood.
Blood!
“Where is Dario?” I repeat. My heart is still racing, although now for a different reason.
Oh, God…Dario.
Although I’ve been dreading his return, the thought of anything bad happening to him makes my stomach churn. My chest feels tight. Mateo’s shaking his head.
Oh, God…Please…please no!
There’s something flickering in his eyes. Is it regret. Please, God, don’t let him tell me he’s dead…
“He’s fine, Nikki,” he says at last. My breath rushes out in a sob.
“Oh, thank God,” I choke out. I realize I’m shaking so hard my legs don’t want to hold me up. Thankfully, Mateo is still gripping my arms firmly, but I sway.
“You good?” he asks. It’s probably the closest he’s ever come to showing me concern.
“Ye-Yes,” I stutter. “But…but what…?”
“He got clear,” says Mateo, before glancing down. “I let him go. As far as anyone is concerned, Dario and Raoul Caraldi were nowhere near that bust when it went down.” He sets his jaw. That flicker happens in his expression again. The man’s conflicted. And I doubt I’ll never find out why.
“I…see,” I answer, although I don’t. “Thank you,” I add. It’s suddenly occurs to me that I’m not in the trouble I thought I was.
“Someone elsewasthere, however,” Mateo goes on. He’s leading me to the car. I no longer resist. I stumble behind him toward the dark vehicle parked nearby. The windows are tinted, the interior concealed from sight. But I sense movement inside. Mateo reaches for the doorhandle and swings the car door open. The sight that greets me has my jaw dropping open.
“Oh!” I clap a hand over my mouth for a second as realization sinks in. I reach into the car. “Oh, my god!” I say for the thousandth time since this insanity all began.
And then the tears begin to stream.
Chapter 4
