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Gia takes one step and her leg trembles. I’ve studied her body for the last three minutes, and I know her leg is broken. She can walk on it, but only because there is so much adrenaline pulsing through her veins. Adrenaline is the only thing keeping her moving. And it is almost gone. She won’t be standing much longer.
I rush to her side, my arms finally able to wrap around her body again. I grab onto her waist, and her hands grip my forearms.
Gia is filthy. Covered in layers of dirt and mud. Her face is swollen, and about ten different shades of black and blue. The only thing left of the Gia I saw that day outside the coffee shop is her eyes. Her eyes still blaze with life.
Her hair, once straight and shiny, is now tangled and matted. I don’t know if she will ever be able to get the knots out, except by cutting her hair. I can’t even let my eyes travel over the rest of her body. My anger rages too fast in my chest at the number of cuts, bruises, and broken bones.
I can’t think about what Dante did to her. It will destroy me.
I don’t let Gia see my rage, instead, I still in strong solitude.
“I can walk,” Gia says, her voice so fucking determined.
I chuckle. This is not the time for chuckling. If Dante changes his plans and decides to search these woods, he’ll find us. And I won’t have a choice, but to turn her back over to him.
“No, you can’t.”
I don’t give her a choice. I scoop her up in my arms and start jogging back to my car, hidden under a large oak tree on the edge of the street.
Gia stops fighting once she’s in my arms. She doesn’t have a choice. I try to do anything to keep from looking at her. In just a few minutes, she’ll be mine. Dante will have no chance to get her back. I can look at her all I want then. Do more than look at her.
Having Gia in my arms makes it impossible for me to focus though. All I can do is breathe in her scent. Before she smelt like roses. It still lingers in her hair, but now she reeks of Dante. Musky, sweaty, and manly.
I need to change that.
I bite my bottom lip to keep from growling as my legs move faster to get her away from this devil.
Gia doesn’t move in my arms. She lays her head on my chest, and I know her eyes are open because I can feel them burning into a spot on my chin. Don’t look at her.
I make it to my Fiat, and though I know she would be more comfortable in a backseat where she could lie down on the journey ahead, I’m glad my car doesn’t have a backseat. I need her near me. I need to be able to touch her and keep my eyes on her as we drive. Otherwise, I’ll lose my damn mind.
So that’s where I put her, before hopping in the driver’s seat. My heart pounds half from stress and half from anger. It’s been a long time since I cared so much about a mission working out like this one. It takes everything inside of me not to call Dante and drive straight to him before pulling out my gun and shooting him dead.
How could he ever think it was okay to maim such a beautiful spirit?
“You going to drive or do I need to?” Gia says. She’s slouched in the chair, not even able to hold her head up. There is no way she can drive. Her sly smile and rosy cheeks warm my heart.
He didn’t damage her spirit. It’s very much alive.
I speed out of our spot, slinging Gia against the window as I do.
“Much better,” she says, as she slowly pushes herself off the window into an upright position.
I should drive her straight to the hospital. Her body is beaten so much; she no doubt needs countless surgeries to fix her broken bones.
It won’t be safe.
The hospital would be one of the first places Dante looks. That’s what I keep telling myself anyway. The truth is I’m a selfish bastard who wants Gia all to myself.
“Where are we going?” Gia asks, her voice weaker than before. Everything she does drains another quarter of her energy. She should conserve it. Another sentence or two and she’ll pass out from exhaustion.
“Shh, you should rest. You don’t need to worry about anything. You’re mine, now.”
I expect her to listen. I know she feels safer than she did with Dante. And for the time being at least, she’s right.
She doesn’t listen.
“I’m not anyone’s. I belong to me.”
