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I don’t think scurrying around the man, boots squeaking as I fling myself into the kitchen. I need to find my girl. If those fuckheads—
Stumbling back, I hold my nose. Shit, it smells like—
“Blood,” Ello says.
“Fuck. Valentina!” My feet slap the tile as I run through the greasy kitchen. There’s no staff, no working stoves, and my stomach sinks. “Valentina!”
At the back of the kitchen, I turn left and stop short.
She’s there, a heap on the floor, a dejected doll. Her torn dress lies in flaps, and her messy hair is knotted around her shoulders. Mascara runs down her cheeks, eyes swollen from tears. But her back—I swallow thickly, air trapped in my throat.
“They branded her,” I growl as Ello stops at my side, panting.
“Mio Dio, no,” he whispers.
Dropping to my knees, I gently touch her head, flesh clammy. The skin is blackened, mangled, a thing of ribbons. They weren’t kind—but they wouldn’t be. Valentina is property to those fuckers, nothing but a piece of meat to use and be kept. Marking is the same as writing their name on a toy.
“I’m taking her home.”
“When Roman sees this—”
“My home,” I say through gritted teeth. “She’s never stepping foot in that house again. Not without me.”
Ello pauses, wide hazel eyes staring me down. I don’t care what he sees—what he wants to say. All I need is to take care of Valentina, and I can’t do that through a screen.
I scoop her up, and he stops me. “Wait.”
Going to the sink, he wets a clean rag and brings it back to me. Softly, he lays it against her abused skin, and she stirs, moaning. Her voice is hoarse.
She was screaming, begging them to stop. And they held her down and marked her anyway.
They’re dead.
Carefully, I cradle her to my chest. Ello slides off his jacket, covering her front. She flinches, but I press a kiss to her temple. “I’ve got you, Sunshine. You’re safe.”
Ello leads us out of the bar, and I see the bartender whimpering on the floor. Passing him, I stomp my heel into his face and hover over him. The crack of bone brings a sadistic grin to my face.
“I’m coming back for you,” I promise. “And I’ll enjoy every hit when I do.”
The beast has been unleashed, and I have no plans to tame it. For Valentina, I’d gladly be the monster that haunts the halls, if it keeps her safe.
Ello looks at my car. “What do we do about that?”
“I’ll call a friend. Let’s go.”
Sliding into the backseat, I stabilize Valentina on my lap. There’s no way in hell I’m letting her go now. Taking my phone out, I shoot Killian a quick text.
Get my car. It’s here *sends pin*
Kill-joy: And where are you going?
She needs me.
There’s a moment where I don’t think he’ll respond. Or I expect his snarky comments and bullshit. Killian loves to twist the knife when he can—protective older brother or not.
I get neither.
Kill-joy: Understood. Let me know if you need us.
