Sobs wrack her body and Clayton tucks her head under his chin, gently holding her.
My eyes fall to the bandages wrapped around Charlie’s wrists. Frankie had marks there, too. Raw and almost bloody from her efforts to get out of her bindings.
Rage begins to tick in my brain. These women had fought for their lives. Frankie had been kicking and screaming at the man on top of her, and his hands had been all over her, touching her, pressing her down and—
“…Mr. Bellanti?”
I hear my name coming from far away. Clayton nudges me, drawing my attention to a nurse standing in front of us. She looks like she’s been waiting for me to respond for some time.
My breath hitches in my throat and I struggle to swallow it down. “Yes?”
“You can see her now, Mr. Bellanti. She’s asking for you.”
My legs go weak. I hang onto Clayton’s shoulder, and Charlie pulls me into a hug.
“She’s—she’s alive?” I ask over Charlie’s head.
The nurse just smiles. “Come with me.”
27
Frankie
In…andout. In…and out.
I pull another breath in through my nose and then let it out slowly through my mouth. I’m doing my best to concentrate on my breathing, trying to keep it steady, but it hasn’t been going so well. Ever since I woke up in this hospital room, I’ve been shaking uncontrollably.
Not because I was surprised to find myself here. Even as I struggled to stay conscious in the ambulance, part of me was still aware enough to know what was happening to me and where I was being taken. The hospital itself isn’t what’s making me tremble.
It’s the memories. The nightmare of what Charlie and I went through. My brain just keeps replaying all of it, down to the last detail, over and over again. The horror of being tied up and held captive. The feel of that man on top of me, the smell of gasoline and alcohol rolling off him. How utterly helpless I was, how it felt to see Charlie getting hit and touched and violated. The moment I realized there was nothing I could do, when the fight in me started to die.
And my baby…nobody has been able to tell me anything. They keep saying I have to wait for the doctor. So I’ve been riding the edge of a panic attack ever since I opened my eyes.
I look down at my shaking hands and turn them over. Some of my nails are broken, my fingers abraded. My wrists are bandaged but they still feel raw, and I can make out the shadow of dark blood under the gauze.
Footsteps sound down the hallway, and when I look up, I see the nice nurse I had earlier walking into the room—with Dante following behind her.
A flood of relief goes through me. I reach for Dante’s hand, and the feel of his fingers in mine brings tears to my eyes. Suddenly I’m shaking again, but for a different reason.
“Hi,” he says softly.
He clasps my hand and kisses my knuckles, his eyes searching mine. All I see in his gaze is worry, relief, love. This is what I need. This, and the truth about whatever is going on with the baby. Because I need to know. The not knowing is worse.
Just then a doctor in a long white coat comes in with a male nurse, who is pulling an ultrasound machine behind him.
“I’m Dr. Wyn,” the doctor says. “I’m going to run your ultrasound in a second, once the nurse gets the machine all set up. I’ll be right back.”
Dante nods. “Thank you.”
She smiles kindly and steps out.
As the nurse works on hooking up the ultrasound machine, Dante looks back at me. He must have so many questions, and I’m not sure I have all the answers. Where did the men come from? How did they know Charlie and I would be inside the house? Where the hell was the security team meant to keep the entire Bellanti property safe?
Dante pulls a chair right up next to the bed and sits, gathering me close so he can kiss my forehead. Leaning into him, I can’t help wishing he could climb into the bed with me. The warmth and security of his body is all I want.
“How’s Charlie?” My voice is scratchy and weak.
“Recovering. She’s with Clayton. I don’t have all the details, but it seems like her injuries boiled down to scrapes and bruises. No concussion.”
