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He surprises me again when a smile starts to stir. “I guess that’s where you learned all those tricks you used on me that night.”
Damn my temper. Before I can stop myself, I blurt out, “Fuck you, you piece of shit.”
My reward? An explosion across the side of my face. I didn’t even see his hand until it was maybe a split second from making contact with my cheek. My head snaps to the side, the back of it hitting the bed frame, stars dancing in front of my eyes. “And we were getting along so well, too, Deanna.” He takes me by the ankles and pulls hard, sliding me closer to him. Now I can use my shoes to my advantage, and I kick him as hard as I can, aiming for nothing in particular. I only want to make contact, and I do.
But not for long. He stands, holding my ankles in the air, spreading my legs wide. “Come on, Deanna,” he laughs as I struggle against him. “Is this any way to treat an old friend? All the fun we had that night. You can’t pretend I didn’t make your knees shake.”
“I’m not Deanna!”
Whoops. I didn’t mean for that to come out, but it did, and at least it shocked him into going still for a second. “What?”
“I’m not Deanna.” My heart’s pounding in my ears and oh, God, he is so close to seriously hurting me. How is this happening? How am I supposed to let this happen?
At least his grip loosens a little. My feet aren’t going numb anymore. It takes every scrap of self-control I possess to stay still rather than kick him again. I might still be able to get him to let his guard down. Where are his keys? Jacket pocket. If I can get a good hit, maybe his chest or even his neck, I might be able to stun him long enough to grab his jacket and make a run for it. If he’s bleeding all over the place, he might not be able to chase me right away.
“Who are you, then?” he asks with a wry chuckle. “Come on. Entertain me. Who are you really?”
“My name is Delilah,” I admit. “Deanna is my twin sister. That’s why I don’t know you.”
“Yeah, right.”
“It’s true. She’s the one who became an escort to make money.” Even now, the irony isn’t lost on me. “I did everything I could for years to make sure she never had to do that kind of thing, but she walked into it anyway.”
“What’s that mean?” I can’t tell if he believes me or if he just wants to see where this is going. Another way to amuse himself while I’m at his mercy.
“It means I’d make her hide under the bed when one of our parents’ so-called friends stumbled into our room,” I whisper. There are tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat but I can’t help it. “I was always the stronger one. She was the one who would have to hide under the covers when there was a thunderstorm. She would burst into tears at the littlest thing. She trusted people too easily. I was always the one who had to protect her.”
I take a deep breath and hope this doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass. “That’s why I’m pretending to be her now. Because otherwise, the Bruno family would have used her in one of their businesses. She can’t do that again. She barely made it out the last time she did that kind of work. So I pretended to be her.”
I don’t know if he believes me or not. His forehead creases, his eyebrows knitting together. “That can’t be true.”
“But it is. You’re the only other one who knows.” I force a tight grin. “Congratulations.”
“And you’re saying Bruno doesn’t know he’s got the wrong girl?”
He smiles when I scoff. “Please. He probably wouldn’t understand even if I told him. He could never comprehend loving somebody so much, you would do anything to keep them safe. If she found out somebody basically sold her to the family, it would break her. She might never come back from something like that. Now you tell me. Do you think somebody like Luca Bruno would ever understand? He would never believe me, because he would never believe somebody had it in them to make a sacrifice like that.”
The worst part is, I want to believe what I’m saying. I really wish I did. This whole nightmare situation might be easier to deal with if I believed Luca is the monster I used to think he was.
But I’ve seen too much of him. The pain in his eyes when he talked about his family. I saw the empathy in him, too, when I told him my story—rather, what I could afford to tell him. He isn’t some cold, heartless monster.
But that doesn’t mean he cares about me, either. I’ve got to remember that.
Meanwhile, my kidnapper—who never bothered telling me his name, not that I asked—nods slowly. “You’re probably right. He’s a stupid bastard, too. One thing my boss always says.”
“What does your boss say?” I make sure to sound as light and playful as I can. Let him think we’re on the same side.
“That he doesn’t have half the brains his old man did, which is a shame since good old Dominic was a weak asshole to begin with. He may as well have sat back and let the family roll over him and take everything he had. He didn’t do a damn thing to stop Mr. Bernardi.” The way he says the man’s name, I could be forgiven for thinking he was talking about a saint or a god.
I force a snicker. “Yeah, he just sort of let things happen, I guess. I never heard much about that, but I heard enough.”
“That’s just not how it’s done in this world.” Damn it, his hands are tightening again, squeezing my ankles. And that light in his eyes. I don’t like it, it’s like he has a fever, they’re too bright, too shiny. “You’ve gotta strike first. You’ve got to be on top of things. You can’t sit around and wait for things to happen. You need to make them happen.”
“I completely agree.”
“That was why I couldn’t let you go when I saw you tonight. Deanna, Delilah, it doesn’t matter. I saw an opportunity and I took it.” He’s breathing harder. Faster. He’s losing control.
It’s now or never.
