Page 55 of Run To Rome


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Chapter 12

Ben woke in his clothes, with a crick in his neck, and a sore jaw. Nothing new since he was used to sleeping in odd places and had been known to get into trouble at the bars on occasion. This morning, it was his surroundings that threw him off completely. Cheap hotels and country campsites didn’t have plush velvet chairs and four poster beds.

It only took a moment for the nightmare to come crashing back. He tensed, but refrained from making any sudden movements. A slow stretch in the chair he’d occupied for the night allowed him to take stock of the room with a careful sweep of his gaze. Rachel slept soundly on the bed nearby, and their watchdog Zucchi still sat at the door.

Through a part in the curtains, he saw dawn had broken across the water. The sun peaked over the snow tipped eastward mountains that made up part of the alpine region surrounding Lake Como. It was absolutely breathtaking, and he wondered if Halli could see it from wherever she was at this moment. Worry stirred in his gut. Was she safe out there all alone, or possibly still with the mysterious stranger helping her?

He hoped he’d get to meet the man some day and thank him. But not today. God, he wished there were some way to warn Halli before she went to the consulate in Milan.

A snore erupted from the bruised face of the guard at the door. He shifted in his chair, snorted once more, then silence returned. Ben listened carefully. It seemed the rest of the house slept along with the guard so he sat up to reevaluate the balcony he’d assessed the day before. The one story drop might be a problem for Rachel, but it couldn’t be helped. This might be their only chance to escape.

Movement in the courtyard below caught his attention. He leaned forward and nudged aside the curtain for a better look. The Italian woman from the night before stood on a small cobblestoned area of a corner garden. Eva balanced on one leg in a difficult yoga move his last girlfriend had attempted a time or two. Spandex clad curves flowed lithely from one pose to the next, her control of movement remarkable.

Damn. She posed a problem out there. As if sensing his scrutiny, her head lifted toward the second story window. Ben ducked back behind the curtains and shifted toward the door. Forget the woman for a moment, he had to concentrate on disabling Zucchi. Better yet if he could secure the gun hanging limply from the man’s lap.

He looked around for something to use as a weapon. Something quiet, but effect—

His gaze swung back to the sleeping guard and focused on the weapon. His heart began to pound. Could he really go and just pluck it from his grasp? And would the guy stay quiet with a gun in his face? Hopefully. He wouldn’t want to have to make the decision to pull the trigger.

One smooth movement brought him to his feet. He allowed no time to think before crossing to Zucchi’s side and snatching the gun. The guard came awake with a start, but Ben pressed the barrel hard against his cheek. “Shh.”

Zucchi’s dark eyes widened, but he didn’t make a sound.

“One word and I’ll blow your head off. Capiche?” Good God, he even nailed the Godfather accent. The guy nodded. Ben stepped back and jerked his head toward the bed where Rachel slept. “Up. Move slow and don’t make a sound.”

Once they were near the bed, he shoved Zucchi to the chair. Without taking his eyes off the man, he leaned over and gently shook his sister. “Rachel, wake up.”

She groaned softly and he felt her shift away. She wasn’t a morning person and didn’t usually become coherent until after a couple cups of coffee. After one swift glance, he returned his gaze to Zucchi before shaking a little harder.

“Rach, wake up.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw her roll over, blink a few times, then she jolted upward with a gasp.

“Shh,”, he warned. “Come on, let’s go. We’re getting out of here.”

She scrambled off the bed, in no need of liquid stimulants this morning. “I’m all for that. What about him?”

They both looked at Zucchi, glaring at them above his bruised, swollen nose.

“Tie him up,” Ben told his sister. Then he caught the guy’s eye. “You even think about touching her, buddy, you’ll be singing soprano for life. If you live that long.”

Rachel moved toward the curtains.

“Stay away from the windows,” Ben ordered. “That woman was out there. I don’t want her to see we’re awake.”

“I need the sashes to tie him up.” Rachel removed the restraints and gave a quick peek out the window. “Looks clear.”

Ben kept the gun trained on Zucchi’s lap as she approached the chair. He hated having Rachel do the hands on work, but she had no experience at all with guns.

While she tied the man’s hands to the arm chairs, Ben felt behind him for a pillow. “Tight as you can, sis, and hurry up.”

The pillow slid from its case when he upended it, and he tossed the material to Rachel when she was done. “Gag him.”

Confident he had a little breathing space, Ben eased ove

r to the window. The courtyard did appear deserted. Did they chance their escape that way, or try the hall? He turned back to Rachel to see her unlacing one of her shoes. “What are you doing?”

“Tying his feet so he can’t kick something and make noise after we leave.”

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