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“It’s done,” Enzo says when he appears back at the door. “We should finish up and get out of here. I don’t like that we’re so exposed.”
Gathering Rose in my arms is just as I remember. Soft and warm. The ache her absence has caused disappears, and it’s like coming home. I kiss the crown of her head. She doesn’t react, but that had been for me, not her.
Climbing back into our borrowed car isn’t easy, but I manage without jostling Rose too much. Raphael helps secure the seat belt around us and then he leaves to help Enzo move the dead bodies back into the car before setting the entire thing on fire. Not our most subtle cleanup, but it's effective.
“Raphael, hand me the key for the cuffs,” I ask once we’re safely heading toward the tower.
My brother produces a small silver key that will unlock any standard-issue handcuff. Being mindful that her skin is raw from the metal, I unlock her wrists. Once free, I cradle Rose tight to my body.
She nuzzles closer against me, and a name slips free from her lips, so soft that I almost miss it if she hadn’t been tucked up against me.
“Liam.”
I stare down at her resting peacefully in my arms. Who the fuck is Liam?
Have I found her only to lose her all over again?
17
Rose
The man’s fingers dig into my neck, leaving me gasping for air. His breath is hot against my ear as he whispers all the deranged things he plans to do to me. He roughly squeezes my breast with his other hand, drawing a cry of pain from my choked throat. His elephant hand brushes over my thigh as he fumbles under my dress. One slip and he’ll be there.
Terror seizes me, and I’m desperate to try anything that will help me break free. Reaching up, I scratch his neck, deep enough to draw blood. If I can reach his face, I’ll claw that, too. He pulls away in a howl of pain, releasing me all at once. I take the chance to try to get away, but the space in the stretched car is minimal. I don’t get far before he grabs my hair and yanks my head back hard enough that I lose my balance.
“You stupid fucking bitch,” he roars in my face.
He shoves me face down onto the seat and places his hand on my back to keep me there. I try to scream, but I can’t breathe, can’t move. He surrounds me, suffocating me, crushing me, leaving me paralyzed and unable to fight back. I’ve never felt so weak, so powerless, so helpless. He’s going to take what he wants, and I can do nothing to stop him. Tears fill my eyes, a sob catching in my throat, and the man just laughs. He’s feeding off my pain and my fear. My desperation turns him on, and the proof of that brushes up against my backside.
“Rose!”
A distant voice yells my name, and my abuser grows angrier at the sound. His fingers roughly drag my panties down, and his hand is there, his fingers...
“La mia bella rosa. Wake up…please.”
I open my eyes and blink. I’m no longer in the car, trapped and defenseless. My eyes focus on a face I thought I’d never see again. When I meet a pair of familiar bright hazel eyes, a rush of emotions consumes me, each one blending into the other until nothing but a whirlwind remains inside me. This man has lived in my dreams for so long that seeing him now feels almost surreal. It’s like that hazy moment when you wake up and can’t tell if you’re still dreaming, where reality and fantasy overlap.
“Michael.” My mouth is incredibly dry; it's like my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth, making my voice crack. I lick my lips and try to swallow, but it only worsens things. A sudden tickle in my throat triggers an uncontrollable cough.
“Here, drink this. It’ll help.” Michael holds out a glass. “It’s just water, I promise.”
My stiff shoulder protests a little as I reach for the glass, but it doesn’t feel broken from being shoved forcefully into different vehicles…twice. I take small sips from the straw, and the cool water soothes my burning throat. Michael stares at me with concern, and I stare back. “It wasn’t a dream. You’re really here.” My voice is still hoarse but a little better.
“I am.” Michael takes the glass from me and then reaches for my hand. I let him take it. His touch is familiar and comforting as he rubs small, soothing circles over my knuckles. “How are you feeling?”
My eyes drift down to the white bandage standing out against my skin. An IV is taped to the top of my hand, and I follow the clear plastic line to a bag of fluids hanging from a hook on the bed canopy railing above.
“What happened?”
“You don’t remember?”
Memories flood my mind, and the nightmare returns in full color. I swallow hard and raise my hand to trace my tender face down to my sore neck as I relive the terrifying moments in the car. “He slapped me and…choked me and—” A shuddering sob works its way through me. “He was going to–to rape me. I tried to fight back, I swear I tried…but he was—he was so strong, and I couldn’t stop him.”
Michael squeezes my hand gently, and I latch on to the comfort his touch offers. “You’re safe, and you’ll never have to worry about that man again.”
“You were there. You saved me.” It’s not a question because the memory is clear in my mind. The fat bastard crumpled on the floorboard. Michael standing in the open car door…with a gun in his hand. And then…nothing. I must have passed out. “Is he dead?” Deep down, I already know the answer. The truth lingers in the air between us, but I have to hear it aloud. I need to know that he’s gone and will never hurt me or anyone else ever again.
“Yes.”
