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“Wow.” I stand up, straightening out my yoga pants and crossing my arms, “Leave.”
“Gemma, that’s not what I meant.” He sighs, standing up to meet me.
“I do believe I’m not a pawn in his game, so yeah, I’m fucking stupid then. Aren’t I?” Gian doesn’t respond, his hard eyes just drill into me. “Leave.” I point to the door. “I’m done talking.”
He sighs, slipping his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Papa doesn’t want you to leave the house.”
I bark out a laugh. Here’s what he’s really here for. He needs to tell me the terms of my prison sentence.
“What else?” I urge.
“Your phone.” He extends a hand, a silent request for me to hand it over.
I scoff, but comply. Fetching the iPhone from my purse and handing it to him. It’s still off after the last time I checked it.
“Go to work with him on Monday, chill out, and this will all blow over.” He gives me a sympathetic look as he tucks my phone into his pocket.
“Just answer one question?” I ask.
“Shoot.”
“How did you find me?”
He grimaces. “Andrew followed you. He saw you take a car from the airport after Papa dropped you off. He followed you to the hotel.” Gian sighs shoving a hand through his hair. “We didn’t know for sure, and then we saw him come out. Then we put two and two
together.”
“How long were you there, waiting for me?” I question.
“We got there not long after you did.”
I sigh. My brother had been at that hotel the entire time I was there, watching and waiting for me to fuck up.
Clearly this family has trust issues.
“This will all blow over, Gem. Just lay low, okay?”
“Okay,” I nod. “I’ll lay low, I’ll play the part of the good sister, the good daughter. I’ll dress pretty and act nice, but know that I will never forget this. I will never forgive you for this. So every time you see me smiling and playing my part, know that I’m not happy. That I will never truly be happy, because you felt like stripping that away from me.” I widen my arms, exposing myself. “I’m just biding my time now, Gian.” I give him a wicked smile. “Now, please politely get the fuck out of my room.”
EVERY INCH OF MY BODY HURTS.
I should have been better prepared. I underestimated my enemy, and that was stupid on my part. Now I know better.
Dragging my sore body from the hotel is a chore. After Gemma walked out of the room, I was at the mercy of her brothers’ soldiers. They had the upper hand since they had me pinned to the hotel carpet.
They were adamant in teaching me a lesson through punches and kicks. My mind flashed to only a week earlier when I was doing the same thing to some poor asshole in the name of protecting my sister.
Then I thought of Niall buried six feet deep in that metal box. I wondered if I was about to join him there. If I would finally get a bit of rest.
I should have fought back, or tried harder, but I didn’t. I knew if I took their beating, they would leave me there. Because as much as I didn’t want her to, Gemma had made a deal for my life. If I would have fought back, they might have shot me to protect themselves.
Any other day I think I would have taken that risk.
But I have something to live for now.
I push the thoughts of death and peace out of my mind, I have to fight now.
Once I get my sorry ass into my apartment, I bring myself to the bathroom to assess the damage. There's blood dripping from my nose and my lip is split. I can see some bruises beginning to form in between the tattoos on my arms. Gripping the sink, I use my free hand to lift my t-shirt. The action itself is painful, but once I get a view of what’s underneath, I grimace. My ribcage has the beginnings of bruises, deep, dark, and painful. Breathing is excruciating and I feel like I’m about to fall over. I’m guessing I have bruised ribs.
