Page 94 of My Favorite Kidnapper

I nodded imperceptibly.

“He isn’t going to stop. This will just have escalated the situation.”

“I know.”

“Brianna is in danger. He will exploit that to his advantage.”

My breath caught. I already knew it. I had realized some truths in the car on the way over here. One was that I would do anything to protect the woman in my arms. The second was that I was totally and irrevocably in love with Brianna. When and how, I wasn’t sure. Maybe from the first instant. Somehow, I had known it but been unable to admit it. But it was real and permanent. I loved her. Every single thing about her. She brought something to my life I didn’t know I was missing. She completed me in ways I couldn’t even describe. She was perfect for me. The thought of being without her gutted me.

But I had failed her. And staying here with me was putting her in danger.

Which was why I had to let her go.

Richard’s words confirmed it.

I had to get her away from the world Winters existed in. It was the same one as me. She wasn’t safe, and short of keeping her a real prisoner, I had to send her away.

I looked at Richard.

“I need another favor.”

He nodded. “I know.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

BRIANNA

Dante came into the hospital room, looking angry. But his eyes softened as they found me, and he walked right to the edge of the bed, taking my hand. I felt my body relax as soon as he touched me. Whenever he was close, I felt the strength of him. Despite what had happened earlier, I was always safe with him. I shouldn’t have stepped between them, but it was instinct. I didn’t want Dante hurt, and I was trying to stop a melee from breaking out.

I had failed miserably.

Dante studied me, his expression tormented. “How much pain are you in?”

“They gave me some drugs. I’m okay. Can we leave soon?”

“Your CT came back clear, so yes. You need to take it easy for a couple of days.” He gently tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “And you won’t argue with me.”

I smiled ruefully. I didn’t have the strength to argue. My face felt as if it was on fire, my eye ached, and my shoulder was painful. I glanced to the side, my gaze finding my dress. Or what was left of it. It had torn when I fell, the sleeve ripped and my heel tearing the skirt.

“He ruined my new dress.”

“I’ll buy you another one,” Dante promised. “A hundred of them.”

“When can we leave?”

“Soon,” he promised. “Lie back and shut your eyes. I won’t leave you.”

I grasped his hand, feeling vulnerable and worried. He was too calm. Far too in control. Something felt off. “Promise?” I hated that I sounded like a child, but I was feeling worried.

He bent and kissed my head. “Yes.”

I shut my eyes and gave in to the weariness I was feeling. The drugs they administered took the edge off the pain but made me tired. Dante’s large hand held mine, his thumb stroking over my skin. I dozed, rousing often to find Dante beside me, staring, unmoving, and looking as if the weight of the world were on his shoulders. The doctor came in and spoke with him in Italian, Dante asking a lot of questions. I was too tired to try to keep up, and soon I felt myself being lifted into his arms. “What’s happening?” I asked, confused.

“I’m taking you home. Go back to sleep.”

I rested my head against his chest. He held me carefully, keeping my bruised face and shoulder untouched. I heard a low conversation, and I recognized the other voice, but I was too weary to try to participate. I was in and out, held in the warmth of Dante’s embrace. I felt the motion of a vehicle, heard more talking, and finally inhaled the scent I had come to love. Dante’s cologne saturated the bed he laid me on, the sheets soft, the mattress cradling my sore body.

I reached out, and he lifted my head. “Drink.”