Page 32 of Tempting My Mafia Monster

Fresh tears welled in my eyes. I lifted my hand to touch his arm, but hesitated. As much as I wanted to comfort him, I didn’t know how. He hated being touched unless it was on his terms. I sat on the floor and rested my head on the mattress beside him.

“Why did you let them take you?” I whispered. “This is my fault. I’m so sorry.”

I wasn’t sure whether he could hear me. If he could, he didn’t respond. I wanted to clean all the cuts, but I didn’t want to touch him without his permission. I didn’t know whether it would push him further into this depressive state or make him lash out. I didn’t know what to do.

I spent the next hour sitting in the chair at the end of his bed, watching over him, waiting for him to come back. The only sign he was alive was the slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathed soundlessly. I ran through my medical training in my head, trying to work out what was wrong with him, but I’d never seen anyone like this before. Was he in shock? His heartbeat was steady, and his breathing was normal, so I didn’t think so. Had they drugged him with something?

The commotion at the top of the bunker stairs made me jump out of my chair and spin towards the door. The shouting and the rapid thud of boots descending had my heart thumping, and I grabbed the knife from behind the armchair cushion.

“Where’s the bitch? She’s goin’ to fuckin’ pay,” a furious voice roared from outside the cell.

Shit. I glanced over my shoulder at Monster. He hadn’t moved.

“I don’t care what McKenna said. Open the fuckin’ door now, or I’ll slit your throat!” Another man bellowed at the guard with the keys. “She killed our cousin!”

Cazzo!

I raced to Monster’s side just as I heard the deadbolt. I grabbed his shoulder and shook him, screaming his name before my throat closed. His body moved under my force, but he didn’t respond. He kept staring vacantly at the ceiling. A final scream tore from my throat as three men came hurtling into the room.

Hands grabbed me roughly, hauling me up as they shouted in my face, their spit flying everywhere. I fought back, swinging the knife in every direction until a hand clamped over mine and pried my fingers back, nearly breaking them, forcing me to drop it. My body writhed and bucked against their grip as they carried me out of the bunker and up the steps.

And I knew for sure this was it. I was going to die.

Beauty And Her Beast

Locked. Inside.

No, it’s over.

Breathe.

Nothing hurts.

He’s not really there. He’s gone. You’re alone.

It’s just silence.

It’s just darkness.

Breathe.

It’s not real.

But then…

I heard something that shouldn’t be there.

Her scream penetrated the numbness. It wasn’t like the others. It wasn’t part of the hallucinations—the faceless men, the ghosts of my past life, the circular walls melting into me or the begging cries of the helpless.

It was louder. Real.

It sliced through me like a blade. I was bleeding from it, clawing to get to her from the darkest recesses of my mind. Breaking apart piece by piece.

But still… I was locked inside my own fucking mind.

And she was out there. Without me.

“Monster!”