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Declan studied me for another beat, then grabbed my arm and jerked me with him. “Let’s go,” he ordered, his voice cold and unyielding when we reached the vehicles.
I looked back but couldn’t see Matteo. Would he make it?
“Give me a phone,” I demanded. I needed to call for help. Time was running out for Matteo.
Declan scoffed and shook his head.
Matteo was dying. I needed to get help.
I stared at Declan, and my insides seethed with a rage burning through my veins. I hurled myself at him, knife yielding. I slashed his cheek before he even realized what was happening, but immediately, I was disarmed and tackled to the ground.
Declan scowled, touched his cheek, and looked at the blood on his fingers. “Didn’t expect this from you,” he sneered. “Maybe you have some backbone after all.”
I glared at him.
“Tie her up and get her in the car,” Declan barked at his men as they secured my arms and forced me into the backseat.
Anger bubbled up inside me, hot and acidic. I slammed a foot against the seat in front of me, relishing the burst of pain that shot through my body.
“Calm down,” Declan snapped.
I bared my teeth at him. “Go to hell.”
He glanced at me in the rearview mirror, eyes narrowing. “Keep it up, and I’ll knock you out myself.”
“You lay one finger on me, and my father will have your head,” I spat.
Declan’s jaw clenched but he stayed silent. Smart man. And yet.
I turned my attention to the window again, watching the shadows whiz by.
My mind raced, searching for a way out of this mess. I had to get back to Matteo. I couldn’t leave him alone, bleeding out on the side of the road. But what could I do. I was powerless. I couldn’t even protect my friends. I leaned against the cool window, unable to stop the tears that streamed down my face.
Please, whatever deity is up there, send help. Don’t let him die.
I’m sorry, Matt. And I’m sorry, Alex. I never intended any harm.
I only wanted to be loved. And instead, I made a mess of everything.
“Stupid!” I whispered to myself.
If I’d realized earlier Frank was none other than Alex’s archenemy, Franco Moretti, Matt wouldn’t be bleeding out at the side of the road.
That and the fact that I should’ve listened when my father ordered me home.
I was responsible. And maybe I deserved this.
I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms, desperate for something to focus on besides the searing pain in my chest. As the miles stretched between us and Matt, I began to contemplate my future.
“Fine,” I muttered, my voice barely audible as the car sped away from the scene. I’ll just go home and appease my father.” Then I would find a way to re-open Sophie’s bookstore and live out the rest of my days alone.
The bitter taste of defeat filled my mouth, and my heart ached with the realization that I might never see Matteo or Alex ever again.
My eyes darted to the men in the car, their cold expressions mirroring the chill that had settled inside of me. “You’re all just pawns for my father, aren’t you?” I spat, my rebellious streak flaring up as I struggled to gain some semblance of control over the situation.
Declan glanced at me disdainfully before turning his gaze back to the road ahead. “We have our orders.”
“Orders,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “Some life.”
