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More blood, more screams. I even gave him a chance to get in a decent slice, leaving my torso unprotected in hopes the pain would rile me up.
He barely managed to break the skin.
I feinted and jabbed like I was on autopilot until it seemed he wore more blood than flesh. He toppled back, slamming his hand against the wall behind him. He dropped the Bowie knife just two seconds before his knees gave out and he followed it to the floor.
I stood in front of him, and it was my turn to stare pleadingly into his eyes.
“Who the fuck sent you?” I repeated for what felt like the hundredth time.
And then he smiled.
He looked at me with the same defiance that had flared in his eyes when he came to earlier after his cold shower.
“You’re too…late,” he choked out between gasping breaths.
“Too late for what?”
I usually didn’t fall for the stupid lines that were generally just lame attempts to delay the inevitable, but something about the pleasure in his tone caught me.
“We’ve got her now—your fucking Luca bitch,” he said, wheezing, “and after he gets what he wants from her hot, little body, he’s going to kill her. Hack her up into—”
All I could see was red as I drove the knife straight into his heart.
Raven’s blood, thick, it coated everything in my dark world. I could see it all over my hands. It was on my hands because I let this happen. Because the bull’s-eye I felt like a hot beam on the back of my head hadn’t been aimed at me. Not directly, at least.
It was pointed right at her.
And I didn’t see it.
“Fuck!” I screamed, yanking out the knife and chucking it across the room.
“Nico, you don’t know. The guy could have been full of shit,” Gabe said, trying to calm me down, but he couldn’t hide the look of horror in his eyes.
But maybe they haven’t gotten to her yet.
I surged to my feet, not sure when I’d sunk to my knees.
I was out of Onyx without a word and in my car so fast, I couldn’t remember climbing the stairs. I was still covered in the thug’s blood.
I threw the car into reverse and squealed out of the parking lot, weaving around every car that got in my way while my heart pounded like a hammer inside my chest.
Less than a minute away, I got stuck behind traffic at a red light, and it took every ounce of restraint I had not to slam right into the bumper in front of me.
My limbs shook and my chest felt tight as image after image of all the vile things that could have happened to her ran through my head. Seconds ticked by. Too many seconds.
I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my contacts for her number. I pressedCall.
If only I could just hear her voice...
The phone just kept ringing until it went to voicemail.
I pushed down on the pedal, swerving around cars. Maybe she didn’t hear her phone. She could have been in the shower.
Fear coursed through my veins. I’d never felt it before, not like this.
I dialed Cesare’s number. He was supposed to be keeping an eye on her hotel, just until we settled the Berlusconi mess.
“Your call has been forwarded to an automated voice message system.”
