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“Where’s Elio?” he pants.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I was in the middle of my meeting, so I wasn’t paying too much attention. The bartender said he left a little while ago.”
“He left youalone?” Dominic’s nostrils flare. He sounds downright furious.
“I’m sure it was a misunderstanding—”
He throws a cautious look over his shoulder, glaring at everyone who dares to make eye contact. His body is rigid, hard as stone and just as immovable.
“What’s going on?” I ask. “You’re freaking me out.”
“We’re leaving.Now.”
“Actually, you’re not going anywhere,” the bartender says gruffly.
My heart twists in my chest when I feel the press of cold, hard metal against my exposed throat. I don’t have time to register being yanked from Dominic’s arms. The bartender grips my hair painfully, knife biting into my skin. In a flash, several of the bar’s patrons make their move, ganging up on Dominic like an army of ants taking down a threat three times their size. They swarm him, pinning him to the bar floor.
“Dominic,” I plead, voice breaking. “Dominic, what’s going on?”
“Quiet,” the bartender hisses in my ear. “Do as we say, and nobody gets hurt, alright?”
“Let her go!” Dominic roars, fighting his captors. They have his arms twisted behind his back, two of the men kneeling on the backs of his calves to pin him in place.
“Signor Renato would like a word with you,” the bartender continues. “If you resist, I’ll be forced to kill you just like I did your man.”
I gasp, trembling so hard I think my legs might give out. “What did you do to Elio?”
“Nothing much. Slipped a little something into his drink before dragging him out back. The idiot put up a good fight, I’ll give him that much. I wouldn’t have slit his throat if he’d cooperated.”
I sob, terror shredding through me. “Elio’s dead?”
“You bastard!” Dominic shouts. “You’re going to pay for this. For all of it!”
“Our capo just wants to talk, Signor Costello. All I ask for is your compliance. I’d rather not kill this woman.”
I’m so consumed with fear that my brain blanks. My body is numb. Right now, pain is the least of my worries. I don’t know what’s going on, but there’s no way I’m going to forgive these people for what they’ve done. Killing Elio, hurting Dominic…
I’ve reached my limit.
Tapping into a rage I didn’t know I was capable of, I move quickly, driving my elbow back into the man’s gut. He reels back, wincing in pain. I use this brief window of distraction to pry the knife out of his hand, mercilessly driving my knee into his groin. No matter how helpless I feel, I refuse to give up without a fight. If I do nothing, this man might hurt me or worse. So, I might as well give him everything I’ve got.
Behind me, Dominic releases a mighty bellow. With power I didn’t think possible to possess, he throws his enemies to the ground with haymaker kicks and punches. We act so suddenly, so brazenly, that none of our foes realize what’s going on before we’re racing out the door.
“After them!” someone shouts.
Dominic holds my hand tight as we run together, escaping into the busy New York Streets.
“What about Elio?” I ask frantically. “We can’t just leave him there. We have to make sure he’s okay!”
I receive no response as we keep on running. We run until my lungs are on fire and my legs start to cramp, but we don’t stop until we’re officially out of SoHo and in the middle of the West Village.
The coast is clear.
For now.
Dominic reaches for his phone and dials a number. “Come on, Johnny. Pick up, pick up, pick up.” I take it as a bad sign when he pulls the device away with a sneer.
I study his back, a dark wet patch seeping through his jacket. I dare to reach out, carefully grazing my fingers over his shoulder. There’s a sticky lump lodged in the back of my throat. When my fingertips come away soaked in red, I know without a shadow of a doubt that his stitches have popped.
