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When I look back to Danny, he’s pushing Ernie’s little finger into his mouth to join the napkin. “Say goodbye, Ernie.” Danny stands, his body trembling and sweating, and he holds the knife out to me. I stare at him, stunned. “Never hesitate to kill someone who’s hurt you,” he murmurs. His words are like a shot of life and purpose, and I slowly stand, walking forward. I take the knife from Danny’s hand, adrenalin burning my bloodstream. “In the neck. The chest. Take your pick.” Danny takes up position behind me, sliding his palm down my arm until he’s at my hand, steadying it. His mouth falls onto my nape, kissing me gently. “I. Love. You.”
I close my eyes briefly. He was telling me before. When he bowed my head and whispered in my hair, he was telling me that he had it all under control. I step forward, raising the knife.
Ernie spits out his mouthful of napkin and flesh. “You kill me, you’ll never know where your son is.”
My arm freezes, and my breath abandons me. A spark of hope threatens to light my world. “You know where he is?”
“Of course I know. Every baby I sold was filed. How do you think Dimitri got the photos?”
I swing around to face Danny, finding him shaking his head mildly. I step back as his lip curls at Ernie. “Don’t you fucking toy with her.” He snatches the knife from my hand, lunging forward. “Don’t even fucking look at her.” The knife plunges into Ernie’s eye socket, and my stomach turns, my hand flying to my mouth as I pivot away. “Ever,” Danny roars, the stabbing sounds constant and sickening. A choked sob falls into the palm of my hand as I tentatively peek over my shoulder. Ernie is unrecognizable. Danny’s body is rolling, fury electric on his skin. I retch, making a mad dash for the hallway, jumping over the lifeless bodies of Ernie’s men.
“Rose!” Brad whisper-shouts, but I ignore him, my freak-out not containable. Too much. It’s too much. I’ve seen some things in my time. Endured many horrors. But this? This . . . I can’t.
I make it to the front door and yank it open, but before I can put one foot outside, it’s shoved closed from over my shoulder. “Be wise, Rose,” Ringo says flatly, gently moving me to the side so he can block the doorway.
Wise? Danny has just bludgeoned his own family. There are armed men all over the grounds. He’s just killed the only man who knows where my boy is.
Danny appears, covered in blood, his face a picture of promised death. “You want to run away from me?” He heaves, tossing the knife to the tiles and grabbing a napkin. “The only man who sees you. The only man who would kill for you.” He takes one step forward, wild eyes on mine, wiping the blood from his hands. “The only man who cares for you. The real you. The only man who understands you. The only fucking man who would fucking die for you.” His eyes are pure, frightening white-hot heat. “And you want to run away from me?” He throws the napkin down with force, and I pin my back to the wall, aware of Brad and Ringo standing cautiously nearby, while Danny advances on me, his lips so twisted, like he could hate me. “You can’t,” he spits, slamming a fist into the wall beside my head. “You can’t fucking go anywhere. Ever. Because when you said you wanted to be mine, you signed in fucking blood, Rose. Right across my fucking heart.” His other palm slaps the plaster, caging me in. His face comes close to mine. His hair is damp on his forehead. His scar is the deepest I’ve seen it. His eyes the wildest. “I. Love. You.” His forehead meets mine and presses hard, forcing my head back into the wall. “So ask yourself just one question, Rose,” he breathes. “Do you love me? Enough to trust me?”
“Yes.” I exhale my answer into his face, no hesitation, my body going lax.
“Then don’t run from me. Do you hear me? Don’t ever fucking run away from me.”
Right now he’s fueled by hate, by the adrenalin of a kill of someone evil. Someone who stole from him. He’s right to be angry. And I’m right to be scared. But not of him. I take a deep breath through my mouth so I can’t smell the bitter, metallic tang of blood that’s all around me. He’s fulfilling promises to me, because he loves me. He’s the first thing in my life that truly belongs to me. The first person to ever look out for me. To care for me. Why would I run?
I throw myself at him, and he holds me until both of our breathing is calm again. Then he turns. “You ready?” he asks Brad and Ringo, receiving two gruff confirmations. “I need you to use your own two feet, Rose.” He sets me down, accepting a gun from Brad and placing it in my hand before taking another from Ringo for himself.
