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Stupid, stupid, how could I have been so damn stupid?
I grab the steering wheel and yank with all my might. We slide across the road. He smacks me again. But it doesn’t have as much strength as the last one. I take a chance and try to open the door. Fuck, it’s locked. He grabs me by the hair and slams my head into the window so hard I expect the glass to break. Maybe it did and I can’t hear it over the ringing in my ears.
Taking a hard turn, he’s racing down a side road. It isn’t a real road, it’s bumpy and my head hits the window again.
Slamming on the brakes, I’m barely aware we’ve stopped before my door is open. He drags me out and throws me onto the ground. “Who the fuck are you to look through me with your fat ass? You didn’t know my name when I’ve talked to you two times in class! Do you think you’re better than me, bitch?”
He’s going to kill me. Hearing his rage, I have no doubt in my mind. I fight frantically. “My father is mafia!” I scream. “He’ll have your balls!”
I scream until my throat is aching. “The Outfit in Chicago! They have men everywhere and they will find you and kill you. I promise you! I texted my roommate your name—that I was going with you.”
He stops, thank god he’s stopped. I go with the scariest name I can come up with, a name that if he searches for it, will scare him. “Tony Sabatini! Look him up. If all you did was rough me up, he’ll let you live. But if you rape me or even try and kill me, he will come for you and he will never let you live. How many people were in the coffee shop and saw me leave with you?! He won’t go to the police, he’ll hunt you down and kill you with his bare hands.”
Pacing, he swears. I watch him pull out his phone. I know he’s doing a search. “Fuck.” He groans.
“Leave and I’ll tell him I got jumped for my car. I’ll never say your name. I swear it.” I groan. My hand finds the blood dripping down from a cut on my head. Oh god, there’s more blood dripping down my cheek on the other side of my face. Everything hurts.
A thump and my stuff lands on the ground beside me. Then he’s gone, peeling out down the long road. I roll onto my stomach. Everything hurts. Every fucking thing hurts. I pull my phone out of my pocket and try to call Sergei. No answer. Shit.
My phone is glowing, I know who I want to call. It didn’t matter I gave Keith Tony Sabatini’s name as my father. It didn’t matter both Tony and Dominic told me to call them if I ever needed anything, or that I have no doubt if I called them they would come. It isn’t Tony or Dominic Sabatini I want to come.
I remember him saying it, making me promise—If you need anything, day or night, call me and I will be whatever you need. I believed in him even as I battled back tears. I believe in him now. It didn’t matter he was more than two hours away, and fucking hell, it was almost midnight. I find his number and hit send. One ring and he answers. “Celia, are you all right?”
“Milos.” I begin crying, relieved he answered, grateful he sounded concerned. “I messed up. A guy, he took me out to the country, he was going to—help me. Please.”
“It will be all right, Celia. I am coming. I will be right there. Do not hang up. I need to make another call on my other phone. I am on my way. Do not hang up.” It’s an order.
“Okay,” I mumble. Fuck, my face aches. I can hear Milos speaking rapid-fire Russian. Too fast for two semesters of Russian to catch on to what he is saying, and besides, my head hurts too much to focus.
“Celia, I am on my way. Talk to me,kotyonok.Who is the dead man who hurt you?”
Anger fuels me, fuck Keith. My promise to him was a lie even as I said it. “Keith March. He’s in my pathobiology course. He told me his family has a miniature horse breeding farm. I’m sorry. I was stupid. So stupid.”
“Do not speak like that about yourself. It was not a failing to want to believe the best in someone. This Keith March, he is the stupid one. Not you,kotyonok.What have I told you about speaking badly about yourself? Do not think because you are in pain I will allow it.” He warns me.
Letting my head meet the dirt road, I can’t help smiling. Only Milos could make a warning sound appealing. “It will take forever for you to get here. I’m sorry I called you.”
“I’ll be there in under an hour. Keep talking to me, do not go quiet,” he commands.
“How can it be so fast?” I wonder aloud. It’s a two-hour drive from Chicago.
“I am getting into my helicopter now. Peter is a proficient pilot. He can fly both an airplane and a helicopter.”
“You own a helicopter?” Holy crap, he is rich.
“As well as a private plane. The helicopter is quicker and there is no need for a runway.” I can hear him shrug it off.
Very rich. I blink and watch the blood pool beneath me. God, I am so freaking tired. I try to yawn but fuck, it hurts so bad.
“Celia, keep talking. I need you to keep talking to me. Why were you out alone late?”
The answer is too long, it won’t come. I hear the blades of the helicopter and wonder if he can hear me. “I’m tired, Milos.”
“I know,kotyonok. Still, I need you to keep talking in case you are injured. I am bringing a doctor with me so he can evaluate you. He is saying you cannot fall asleep, you likely have a concussion.” His voice is strained.
I sigh. “Yes, I think so. My head hurts so bad. And there’s blood from a cut on my head. More blood on my face, but it hurts too much to figure out where it’s coming from.”
It’s the last thing I remember. Suddenly there’s a bright light above me along with the whirling blades of a helicopter.
