“You sure you’re gonna be fine?” Dante asks, tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear. His eyes scan my body from head to toe before he settles back on my eyes.
“I’ll be fine, okay? Please don’t worry. We need to do this.” I say with finality, not wanting to argue for the third time.
After I walked away from his makeshift office here in the safehouse, Dante followed me into our bedroom and lingered while I washed up and got ready for my brunch, arguing the entire time about how unsafe it was.
Now, as I pull away from him to slip on my black Chelsea boots, the final piece to complete my ensemble of high-waisted black pants, plain black tee tucked into my pants, and dark denim jacket, Dante sighs in defeat.
The screaming and sounds of breaking glass transport me back to the most dreaded night of my life. Just like the night of my parents’ deaths, my heart hammers in my chest, and my vision and hearing blur from the fear creeping into my system. It’s only when I hear a sharp cry beside me that I snap back to reality. It’s Natalie. “Natalie! Wait!” I call out from where I’d collapsed on the floor in shock. “It’s not safe!” But either she doesn’t hear me or she doesn’t care. Where the hell did that explosion come from? ‘Promise me, Jean.’ Dante’s voice filters into my head. I promised him that at the first sign of danger, I’d run. But I can’t l
“Dante!” I yell again, ignoring how hard Natalie has been pulling on my arm. “Jean! He said to run across! Come on!” Natalie’s voice shivers but the strength she has is surprising. But I don’t want to leave without him. But the time I used to wait costs us greatly, two men suddenly pop up out of nowhere, grabbing Natalie by her wrist. “Jean!” I focus immediately, aiming my gun and shooting our assailant’s foot before kicking him off of Natalie. The moment she’s free, I fire another round into the man’s chest, ignoring how my hands shake as I do. Seeing how easily I’ve disposed of his comrade, the other man hesitates, but I don’t. Before he could a
I look Natalie straight in the eyes, uncaring of the way her hands shake, and how her face seems to be drained of blood. “Did you set us up?” I ask keeping my voice steady despite my trembling lips. I hold my breath waiting for Natalie’s reply with the potential to destroy whatever friendship we’ve managed to build. “No! Jean I swear to you I didn’t know this was going to happen. Camille! She—” She tries to explain but I cut her off. The mere fact that she knew something was about to go down was enough. “So you knew something was up and have the audacity to pretend to be innocent?” I don’t bother hiding the venom in my tone. “I—” “That’s all I nee
“Maybe aren’t cut out for this after all. Flinching at the mere sight of blood, Miss?” The remark catches me off-guard, but my eyes don’t leave the sight in front of me, standing on the other side of an interrogation room, much like what they have in police stations. However, instead of the usual blues and grays of police stations, this one has white walls on the mirrored side, save for the dried bloodstains on the floor and the walls, which I think is intentional, giving the occupants of the room a preview of what they can look forward to. The white motif is followed on our side of the room, which reminds me of a hospital. The same mechanics work, we can see and hear everything going on inside, but those who are inside cannot. Beltini returns to my side of the room wh
There aren’t enough words to describe the gore in front of me, and that’s just on the visuals, not to mention the smell. The room is surprisingly hot, and the poor ventilation does nothing to help with the quickly desiccating smell of blood and flesh. I’ve watched Beltini beat them up and pry each of their fingernails one by one, and seeing the outcome firsthand stirs up whatever I ate in the restaurant hours ago. The one on my left looks worse than the one on the right. Beltini had tortured him more, beating him up with a crazed smile on his face, but this man is too proud, the determination shining brightly in his eyes. He won’t break, at least not soon enough. Poor things.
“That’s absurd. You can’t lead us.”I don’t stop the scoff that leaves my lips. What I’m asking for isn’t absurd, but the general reaction from Beltini is.But I won’t allow him to stop me. Standing up a little straighter, I fix every man in the room with a stern look, daring them to speak against me. Killian, Daveed, and Luca give me a small nod, a small gesture but a vow to follow my command. The rest of the room comprises Beltini’s men and some of Dante’s.It’s a bad mix, but I would have to make do. I can’t rescue Dante on my own, I would need their help. So, I need to win them over, one way or another.“And why the hell not? I feel li
My hands don’t shake, not when my heart hammers in my chest, and not when I’m pointing a gun to a man’s head.Man.This is no man.“I wasn’t asking. Take me to my husband. Now.” There’s no time to lose.I’ve seen what happened to his men. Broken, bleeding, and dead in an otherwise pristine interrogation room. And whatever damage Beltini did to them physically, I know I did to that poor Jason mentally. He sang like a canary after what I did. And I’m glad Luca killed him when he told us where Dante was because t
Move. Fucking move!But my legs remain rooted to the floor.My eyes are fixated on Dante’s, wanting nothing more than to gut every person who hurt him. Seeing him hurt, makes me hurt so I want to hurt someone and everyone else.My feet begin to move then, running toward him only to be stopped by the two men in white lab coats. I struggle in their holds, screaming as I do so, calling for Dante over and over but he never looks at me, just keeps thrashing and screaming. And God,