I’d screamed, kicked, pleaded with him. He hadn’t said a word. It was like he was barely breathing, silent, cold.
Scary.
But it’s not like Luca is any different. I should be terrified of him, not aroused by him.
My legs start to ache from being cramped up and kicking. I’m sweating and panting by the time I give it up. I try the window, but I’ve lost both my heels and in my bare feet I can’t kick it hard enough.
I slump back into the leather seats.
There’s nothing I can do. I’m trapped. I’ve been kidnapped by my daughter’s father. That makes me think of Rosa, back at home waiting for me to pick her up the next morning, and tears start to stream down my face.
Dammit.
I wipe them away angrily. I hate crying. When I was in the police academy, I always rushed to somewhere private if I knew I was going to do it. If any of my male coworkers had seen me…
And now I’ve fucked up my one big shot at going undercover. I guess that doesn’t matter so much, though. Who knows if I’ll even make it out alive?
There’s no record of Luca being violent against women, but that doesn’t mean it never happened. Besides, he may have just ordered Nico to do it. God knows Nico has enough violence against women on record to choke a horse.
I squeeze my eyes shut and more tears stream out. I don’t know if I’ll ever see Rosa again. Despair threatens to wash over me. But I have to get it together. I have to try. I have to fight like hell to get back to her. My Rosie girl.
I take in a ragged breath and the car suddenly stops. It feels simultaneously like it’s been six minutes and sixty minutes, so I have no idea where we are. The windows are too tinted to see through.
The door jerks open and I expect Luca or Diego, but instead it’s a man I don’t know, one with curly dark hair and brown eyes. His lips are pressed together thin as he reaches down to grab me.
“Tell Luca he should do his dirty work himself,” I spit, and the man grunts in response as I writhe, pulling my arms behind my back.
I can’t hit him, can’t scratch at him.
“You can tell him yourself,” he mutters.
He twists me around, facing me toward Luca and Diego, a cottage set behind them.
Fairy lights, dim and warm, line the top of the cottage, and there’s a small bed of roses next to the steps. It’s probably the most cozy place I’ve ever seen, and it’ll probably be where I die.
I stumble as the man pushes me forward. Luca and Diego walk in front of us, heading for the front door. I don’t have much time.
I go limp, dead weight, and he struggles to hold me up. He curses in Italian, distracted, and I come back to life and stomp down on his instep as hard as I can.
He yelps and lets me go and I take off, barefoot on the gravel of the driveway, running toward the small road which will eventually lead me to the freeway.
The footsteps pounding, the panting of the man behind me—which one, I don’t know. My heart races and I can’t breathe, a stitch burning in my side. I’m athletic, I have to be for work, but I’m not exactly a runner.
Strong arms grab me around the waist, pulling me back against a hard chest. Hot breathes pant by my ear.
“You’re not going anywhere, not until I know what you know.”
“I don’t know anything,” I plead, and I’m not exactly lying. I only know what the rest of the Chicago Police Department knows. I was trying to find out more, but now I’m just trying to stay alive. “I told you; I’m not on the force anymore.”
“You’re lying,” he growls, and I hate that how tight he’s holding me is making my body hum with excitement.
“I’m not!”
He doesn’t respond, just dragging me back into the yard. He hands me to Diego, who locks his arms around me tight. I don’t even bother trying to struggle. I’m exhausted already, and I know I won’t make it far even if I do escape.
Luca stalks over to the curly-haired man, who is hopping on one leg.
“I think she broke my fucking?—”
