AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He says a few things to Curse, and, heart thundering, I watch him. It’s the left side of his neck and jaw that are scarred, so I can’t see the marred skin from here. I watch him closely while he tells his younger brother to “make sure Morelli’s at the house.”
I let my gaze track over his hard jaw, the rugged slashes of his cheekbones, the bold nose. He doesn’t have Curse’s classic good looks. I remember what he said to me in the shadows, calling himself an ugly bastard, but I don’t see it. He’s striking. He’s not handsome in a refined way, but his features are so brutal and unapologetic that I can’t stop staring at his profile.
Curse heads off to his own vehicle – a vehicle with a trunk full of dead men. My stomach lurches as Elio hands me the violin and bow. I try to block everything out and take comfort in the familiar feel of the wood, the strings.
But there’s no blocking Elio Titone out. Especially when he turns towards me in the car’s dark interior. I tense, remembering the way he touched me in the pantry. His hands on my throat, my breasts.
But he doesn’t touch. He doesn’t say a single word. He just grasps the seatbelt from beside my head, then tugs it downward, fastening it across my chest and lap.
He just kidnapped me in a chaotic storm of gunfire and blood and now he’s worried about making sure I’m strapped in?
He’s still silent as he shifts the car out of park and starts driving. Suddenly, the seatbelt thing makes a little more sense, because Elio drives fucking fast. Absurdly, I wonder if he has good snow tires on as he explodes out of our driveway and down the road.
Although maybe it’s not that absurd, considering what happened to Mom and me. But we weren’t the ones driving fast that winter day. Not like this, not like Elio.
I decide he must have snow tires on, considering how well the vehicle is handling on the slick roads.
It’s crazy just how mundane that thought is. I wonder if that’s a protection mechanism. If by focusing on things like seatbelts and snow tires, I can make it all a little less real.
But it is real.
This is happening.
I’m really being abducted by one of the most brutal men in this city, this country. The life I thought I had is gone, maybe forever.
No. Not forever. Dad will find me.
He wasn’t among the bodies in Curse’s trunk. Hopefully I’ve bought him enough time to figure out a way to fix this. I still can’t believe what Elio has said – that my own father sold me out. I also can’t believe that he would steal from Darragh.
But if he hadn’t stolen from Darragh, why didn’t any of Darragh’s men come to help us?
It’s all too much to think about. Instead, I focus on watching the landscape so I know where Elio’s taking me. A chill runs through me when I picture where I may end up. A warehouse? A prison cell? Somewhere no one can hear me scream.
But he said live-in musician…
His house.
I don’t fool myself. I could still end up in a warehouse, or worse, in a heartbeat if Elio decides he’s done with me.
We’re heading south, into Toronto proper, leaving my Thornhill neighbourhood behind. I wonder if we’re going downtown. I allow myself small glances at Elio, and I see how wet his shirt is with blood at the back.
“Your shoulder,” I whisper.
He keeps his eyes on the road, though he’s only driving with one leather-gloved hand on the wheel. His left hand rests limply on his thigh.
“Worried about me?”
“I’m worried you’ll kill us both when you lose consciousness from blood loss,” I snap before I can stop myself. I clamp my mouth shut, internally berating myself. Talking back to a Titone is not smart, and I prepare myself for the blowback.
But it doesn’t come. Instead, Elio laughs, a dark, gruff chuckle.
“Too many men want me dead as it is. Don’t plan on making things easier for them by doing it myself.”
I stare at him in disbelief. He’s been shot. He’s bleeding badly from the shoulder and obviously isn’t using his left hand at all right now. And yet, he seems completely unperturbed. His grip on the steering wheel is relaxed and he commands the road with ease even while driving twice the speed limit.
I lurch in my seat as he takes a sharp corner.
“You’re driving too fast!” I cry, unable to hold it in.
