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“Why do you think Arthur had her sent away?” Sergio smirks. I can hear it in his voice. He tugs me backward, keeping the gun trained on my neck as he moves through the vast space.
“He didn’t want her with me.”
“Yes, because I paid for her hand in marriage when she turned sixteen.” The confession causes my stomach to flip, bile rising into my throat, burning its way to my mouth, but I swallow the anger down.
“Go.” Jezebel shoves her gun into Lance’s head, leading him toward us. I’m not sure where we’re going, but with each step, I’m plunged farther into the dark. When we round the back of the house, I notice the storm shelter. The doors are shoved open from the inside, and two men dressed in black exit.
“Get the car ready,” Sergio orders them.
Wordlessly, they ignore the fact that their boss has a gun to my head. Sergio shoves me toward the doors, and soon, I’m stumbling down the steps into the darkened space.
“It’s been fun, Lance. I wish you did want me. I could’ve given you more than the little virgin,” Jezebel tells the man I love, and I realize even though he kissed her, nothing happened between them.
“No amount of alcohol, drugs, or weapons could make me want you, Jezebel Ramos. You’re as filthy as your brother,” Lance bites out angrily, causing my heart to thud. She’s holding a gun to his head, and that’s dangerous.
“Lance, please, stop,” I beg, causing him to glance my way.
“Listen to your pretty doll.” Jezebel cackles. I notice her press the gun into his back before Sergio shoves Lance backward, causing me to screech in shock, but he’s steady on his feet.
A second later, a shot rings in my ears, and Lance’s body is flung into the space, causing me to scream so loud it echoes in the empty chamber beneath the house.
“Let us go!”
Sergio chuckles as Jezebel shuts the metal doors, and I hear the lock click. I’ve been trained all my life to fight off men like him, to fend for myself, but the moment I needed to fight back, to finally put my training to use, I couldn’t, and now we’re locked in here with no hope of escape.
Lance
The pain burning through my body causes me to groan in agony. Shoving myself to my knees, I feel her touch immediately. Giuliana leans in, her body shaking against mine, and I give up trying to stand. I pull her into my arms, and she allows me to hold her.
“I’m so sorry, Lance. I should’ve known my father would’ve fucked with my life again.” Her sweet voice thrums as pain etches in every word. She’s always been an emotional girl, either angry or even just sensitive to whatever her father had ordered of her.
“Shh, baby girl,” I murmur in her hair, inhaling the sweet scent of her
shampoo. My leg is aching, but thankfully, it doesn’t feel as if the bullet is still lodged in my thigh. At least, I hope it isn’t. And there’s only one way to find out. “I’m here. There’s no way I can ever leave you.”
“You better not,” she warns, curling herself on the floor, pressing her lips to mine, causing every nerve in my body to come alive with electricity. “We need to see if there’s a bullet in your leg.” Her words are mumbled against my lips.
“The first thing we need to focus on is to get this wound sewn up. Then, we need to get out of here, and from the light skimming through the doors, they don’t look overly secure. Look around and see if you can find a faucet, even if it’s rusted, maybe we can get it to work.”
Giuliana takes my words as an order as she moves around in the darkened space. The only light is coming from a broken bulb hanging from the low concrete ceiling.
“There’s nothing we can use in here. I mean . . .” She pivots, holding up a metal object. “We can’t clean the wound with a goddamn screwdriver.” The dejected tone of her voice makes me smile. I’ve been shot a few times before, and I know this is nowhere near as bad as it looks. Unzipping my jeans, I shove them down and take a look at the wound. There’s a lot of blood, but the bullet actually grazed my thigh.
Tugging my shirt from the waistband of my jeans, I ensure the material fits snugly around my leg which will help once we’ve sewed up the gash. I’ll need it to staunch the bleeding. When she kneels beside me once more, her eyes shimmer and her cheeks are wet with tears.
“Hey.” I reach for her, sloping my thumb over the glistening emotion. “I’ll be fine. It’s only a graze. The bullet isn’t in my leg.”
“Lance, I was never with Sergio. I love you. I’ve always loved you.” Her words are a balm to my heart that’s ached without her, and I can’t help pulling her closer for a kiss. Our lips mold to each other, the pain taking a backseat with her mouth on mine.
“Let’s get this wound sewn up,” I tell her with a calm tone, hoping to keep her focus on the positive. Pulling out a small sewing kit I keep in my jacket pocket, I hand it to her. “Thread the needle.” This is the reason I always wear a jacket because, in these pockets, I have everything I need to sew up a wound.
“You’re doing this without anesthetic?” Her eyes are wide, and even in the dim lighting, her sweetness shines brightly.
“Come on, baby girl, I’m tougher than that.” Pulling out my flask which is filled with bourbon, I wink at her, hoping to calm her down. “Besides you should know I never travel without something to drink.” Twisting the cap, I swallow a mouthful of alcohol, then drench the wound in the same burning liquid. “Fuck.”
“Lance,” Giuliana whimpers when she watches me clench my teeth so hard, my jaw aches. Once I’m ready, I plant a kiss on her cheek.
“Do it.”
