Chapter 13
Katarina
As soon as Damiano closes the door, tears choke me. I bury my face in my hands, muffling my sobs as defeat washes over me. I can’t outrun him, and he’ll keep me here for as long as he wants.
I’m completely at his mercy.
The room feels smaller, walls pressing in with the certainty that I’m not leaving until he says so.
Despite his promises of safety, I can’t trust him. Because what would it make me if I trusted the mafia?
Stupid, that’s what. And I refuse to be stupid.
I try to sit up in bed, but a stabbing pain in my shoulder makes me collapse onto the mattress. Then I notice wetness on my feet. When I look down, blood oozes from several cuts across my soles.
Shit, I don’t even know when I cut myself. When I manage to sit up, I finally feel the pain.
“Kat?” My eyes dart towards the door and the familiar voice calling my name.
I pause to regain some composure before whispering, “Julian?”
I wipe the tears from my face and watch him take big steps, closing the distance between us. When he reaches me, he pulls me into the strength of his arms.
He smells of crushed pine needles and bitter citrus, fresh from outside. His brown eyes are tight with concern, jaw clenched as he takes in my state.
"¡Dios mío! ¿Qué pasó?"
He crouches in front of me and lifts my bloodied foot to examine it. He shakes his head slowly and closes his eyes fretfully.
When he opens them again, he asks, “What did they do to you?”
He sighs before loosening the tie around his neck. I notice his usual muscle shirt and cargo pants have been replaced with a black suit that fits him like a glove. His buzz cut has grown a bit since I last saw him, too. Stubble peppers his chiseled jawline, and his deep-set eyes bore into mine.
“How did you get here?” I ask as a sudden lump catches in my throat. The sight of his worried eyes suddenly becomes permission to hurt, and I crumble.
“I’m here. Ssshhh. Don’t cry. I came here with you. Do you think I was going to let you go anywhere without me?”
He reaches up to cup my face with his big palms. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you. I’m so sorry.” Guilt washes over his face.
“Damiano... he’s...” I start, but he nods, giving me a knowing look.
“I know...Sshhh, I know.”
He gets up and sits beside me on the bed. His arm wraps around me as I lean my head on his broad shoulder.
“It’s okay, I’m here, Kat. You’re not alone.”
He keeps repeating those words, his hand gently rubbing my arm in an earnest attempt to soothe me. I don’t know how long we sat there like that before I was too exhausted to cry. Eventually, I take a shuddering breath and wipe my face usingthe back of my hand. My eyes are so swollen that I can barely see through them.
“Let’s get you cleaned up. You don’t want those cuts to be infected.” He murmurs before he stands, his arm pulling me up with ease. I wince as my feet press onto the carpet, so he shifts and carries me bridal-style instead. He walks us into the bathroom and sets me gently on the shower bench. Shrugging off his jacket, he rolls up his sleeves to keep them from getting wet.
I rest my head on the wall behind me and watch him turn on the handheld shower and adjust the knobs to find the perfect temperature. Still feeling out of breath, I close my eyes and try to ground myself.
“Get out.”
The sound of his voice booms in the bathroom, making my heart jump. When I open my eyes, Damiano is standing in the doorway of the bathroom, glaring at Julian with pure disgust. Julian matches his stare.
Immediately, all the tension that had just left my body returns.
