I’m hustled up the stairs, my father and brothers keeping a tight formation around me. Every light upstairs appears to be on, the windows dark. It couldn’t have been less than a day since I was captured, so it must be the following night.
There are bodies on the floor. Lots and lots of bodies. I hold my breath as I walk through the room where Nico killed Isabella, then through one I have no memory of. I was still hooded.
Finally, we’re outdoors. Death is out here, too, but at least it’s accompanied with fresh air. I suck in greedy breaths, averting my eyes from the fallen figures on the grass. I’ll never take oxygen that’s crisp and cool and absent of any stagnant odors for granted again.
“Where’s Lev?” I repeat.
This time, no one answers. They just keep walking along an immaculately maintained path.
I stop, glancing back at the house. If he’s not out here, he must still be inside. I take a step back, reversing course. The heel of my shoe catches on one of the stones, and I wobble.
Enzo is closest. He reaches out to steady me, fingers wrapping around my bicep. Except his hand doesn’t drop once I remain vertical. His grip tightens, keeping me from moving. “You can’t go back in there.”
I tug my arm harder, and he still doesn’t release me. So, I punch him in the face with my other hand. His head recoils, grip loosening a little, and then he pins my other arm too.
“Jesus,” he grumbles. “Who trained you?”
The question almost makes me start crying. I’m tired and hungry and delirious, and the one person—theoneperson—who will fix everything is missing.
I employ another technique Lev taught me, kneeing Enzo in the crotch. He grunts, swears, then lets me go. More hands grab me, Leo and Luca each restraining an arm on either side of me.
“Carina”—Salvatore appears in front of me—“you are safe. Stop fighting.”
I lift my chin, holding my father’s worried gaze. “I want Lev.”
“He’ll be out soon. He’s dealing with Morello.” Salvatore looks at the makeshift bandage on my arm. “Dr. Ricci is waiting at the house. Are you hurt anywhere else?”
I shake my head. It’s the correct answer to his question, but also because, “I’m not leaving without Lev.”
“Our orders were to get you out,” Luca says. “Morello might have more men en route. We need to go. Now.”
I glare at my father. “Nico Morello only knows who I am because of you. This is all your fault.”
Genuine pain crosses Salvatore’s features. “Tesoro, you were never?—”
“How dare you try to abandon the one person who helped me escape him?”
Salvatore appears conflicted.
“We have orders.” Enzo does not.
“Change the fucking orders!” I shout at my father.
He steps closer. “They are not my orders, Carina.” To the men holding me, he says, “Put her in the car.”
My brothers have to half carry, half drag me to the SUV, but my lack of compliance doesn’t slow anyone down very much.Enzo slides behind the wheel, Salvatore takes shotgun, and I’m sandwiched between Leo and Luca in the back seat.
I’ve never ridden in a car with all my immediate family before. Never had them all surrounding me, protecting me. Part of me recognizes it’s a sensation I should appreciate, cherish, but most of me is watching the house shrink in the rearview mirror.
A line of four other vehicles follows behind us. A dozen more cars remain in the driveway. Some might belong to Nico or his men, but still, the size of the operation to retrieve me is staggering. I’m grateful, obviously, but I feel nauseous, recalling all the bodies we walked by. My life shouldn’t be any more important than theirs.
And Isabella …
My hands were released once we were in the car. I lift a palm to muffle the cry that wants to escape my mouth, the loss hitting me all over again.
“They stopped talking,” Luca says.
“Must be close,” Enzo replies.
