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I open my palm—and the world around me goes silent for a moment, only my heart pounding like thunder in my chest. Is it…?
“Jacinta!” I call her without a second thought and look up—but at the same time, Gerardo laughs out loud and turns to his men.
“Burn those fucking pigs!”
It takes me less than a second to realize what he means, but even that is barely enough to avoid the bullets flying in our direction. I shove myself onto the ground, keeping myself out of range, while Louis behind me screams in Italian to open fire. At the same time, I hear the rumble of multiple car engines, and the flash of headlights blinds the Mexicans before Matteo’s men finally join us.
But I don’t have time to rejoice; a moment later, I hear Jacinta scream, and it becomes my only focus. I raise my head, and my heart jumps when I see her running to me—but Emilio is faster than her. He lunges forward to grab her shoulder and yank her back, and it makes me growl out loud and dart forward under the rain of bullets from both sides.
“Let me go!” Jacinta tries to fight Emilio’s hold, kicking and screaming, and it catches Gerardo’s attention.
“Idiots, be careful, don’t graze her. Jacinta!”
“Stop fighting, you fucking cow,” I hear Emilio yell at her over the thundering noises of the firefight. “You’re going back—”
She isn’t.
I lower the gun and look at the bloody flower blossoming in the middle of his chest. Well, looks like he’s never gonna finish that sentence. Emilio looks at me and tries to cover his wound with his hands, but I don’t stay for long enough to watch it. In the inevitable rush of weakness, he lets go of Jacinta, and I dart forward and grab her arm, pulling her into my embrace.
“Is he dead?”
She looks up at me with wide eyes, but I don’t have time to calm her down. I tighten my hold on her shoulders and look around, choosing the best path to escape in less than a second. With Jacinta in my arms, I have to be more careful—but it gives me more courage to keep going.
“Jacinta, get back! No, don’t fucking shoot at her! Just—bring her back. Jacinta!” Gerardo keeps yelling behind us, cursing in Spanish, but I ignore him and hold Jacinta tighter, guiding her to my car.
There’s no way I’m going to give the mother of my child to that freak.
Chapter 10 - Jacinta
My hands are still shaking when Paolo drives off the highway and turns the car onto a quiet street, away from downtown. We spent the whole ride in tense silence; Paolo was entirely focused on driving while I was struggling to gather my thoughts together. At this point, it feels like I can’t trust my own mind.
What just happened? Was it all real?
Everything is such a mess, and I don’t know anymore if I did the right thing. I clutch my shirt tighter and shut my eyes, struggling to keep a new wave of nausea down. Emilio’s pale face and the scarlet stain seeping through his shirt immediately appear behind my closed eyelids, and I feel a lump growing in my throat.
So many times I imagined killing Emilio for every ugly word he’d ever said—but I never knew it would be so terrifying to see him choke on his breath and slump to the ground. God, he’s gone. My cousin is gone. I press my palm to my forehead and bite my lip. What have I done? Why did I run away from him?
“We’re here.” Paolo’s quiet voice pulls me out of my thoughts, and a moment later I feel a touch on my shoulder. I instinctively startle, but I stop myself before I can brush it off. I need this touch more than anything.
I pull my hand away from my face and turn to Paolo. He’s watching me with the stern frown he often carries around—but in his eyes I see his strength, worry, and something even deeper. His palm lingers on my shoulder, and it’s enough to help me take a deeper breath.
This is why I ran away from Emilio. This is why I sacrificed everything I had. For the affection in Paolo’s eyes and the frantic rhythm of my heart in his presence.
“Are you alright?” His gaze darts over my face, and I can’t help a weak smile at the note of concern in his voice. But the truth is…
“I don’t know.”
My thoughts are still a mess, and my body is still tense with panic and adrenaline, so I look away from Paolo and focus on our surroundings. Through the windshield, I see a big house bathing in the moonlight with a wide driveway at the front and acres of lawn all around it. The edges of the property are rising in the form of hedges and thick tree lines through which, in the distance, I can see the faint lights of neighboring houses.
“What is this place?” I turn to Paolo as soon as we get out of the car, and he pauses after closing the driver’s door and takes a deep breath, looking up at the house.
“It’s my home.”
What?
I stare at Paolo for a moment, not knowing what to say, but he doesn’t wait for my answer and walks to the front door without a glance around. Okay, so I knew that the mansion where I spent the last few weeks wasn’t Paolo’s house—on the second day of my imprisonment, Alice told me that it belonged to his brother Riccardo. And that wasn’t surprising. Why would you bring a hostage into your own home?
Which makes it all the more special for me to follow Paolo and step my foot into the lit-up warmth of his living room. It’s smaller than anything I’m used to, but the brown colors, warm lights, and electric fireplace make it so cozy and safe.
