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Allegra presses her hand against the raised skin as if her touch alone could heal me. She has no idea that’s exactly what she’s doing. I rest my hand over hers, leaning down and brushing my lips against the shell of her ear.
“You’re beautiful,” I breathe. “You survived. You’re here. And you’re safe.”
She surprises me by throwing her arms around my waist and burying her head in my chest. “This has to be a dream,” I hear her say. “You can’t be real.”
I hold her close, resting one hand on her lower back while the other strokes up and down her spine.
“I thought the same thing about you,” I tell her truthfully.
Allegra loosens her hold and leans back slightly to give me a questioning look. Before I can respond, my phone rings. Allegra squeaks and jumps back while I curse.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” I apologize, hating how jumpy she is. It’s a testament to everything she’s been through. Romeo’s name flashes across the screen, and I know I need to check in for the day. “I have to take this. There’s a huge slice of lasagna in the microwave. Just heat it up for a few minutes, and you should be good to go.”
Reluctantly, I step away from the beautiful, broken angel and silence my phone before it rings again.“Make yourself at home,” I tell her as I gather my things. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”
Allegra nods and waves from the kitchen as I open the front door. I want to kiss her, promise her ridiculous things, and proclaim my love for her, but it’s all too fast.
Instead of doing any of those crazy things, I wave back and smile, counting down the minutes until I can return home to my woman.
CHAPTERFOUR
ALLEGRA
Iroll over and snuggle into the softest, warmest bed I’ve ever slept in.
And then it hits me.
I don’t own a bed.
Panic punctures my lungs, and I struggle to breathe as I try to remember how I got here.Did someone drug me? Knock me out? Did my uncle sell me off to the highest bidder like he’s always threatening?
My stomach churns violently at the thought, and I sit up, hoping to get a better idea of the threat I’m dealing with. Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, bits and pieces of the last few hours filter into my mind.
I was running, running, running, looking for somewhere safe to hide, and then…
Armando.
He held me in his arms, his warmth and strength radiating from him as he carried me inside. Closing my eyes, I remember his gentle touch and kind words as he talked me through the most traumatic moments of my life.
More of the day plays out in my head. Armando convinced me to stay with him. I took a hot shower, and then he fed me. We shared a moment in the kitchen. I lift my hand to my neck and run my fingers over the marred skin.
Armando saw my brutal scar and showed me his. He’ll never understand how much that meant to me. He looked at the ugliest part of me and didn’t back down. The man doesn’t even know me, yet he revealed a vulnerable part of himself to comfort me.
I have no idea why Armando is being so patient and kind. I leaped into his arms and clung to him like a spider monkey, but he can’t be doing all of this out of some misplaced obligation, right? Most people would have shrugged me off or, if they were half-decent, given me a ride to the nearest shelter.
Wiping away my tears, though? Offering a room in their home? Providing a hot shower and an amazing meal? That’s too much. Too good to be true.
What if he’s working for my uncle?
Fear spikes through my veins, causing me to jump off the bed. I stand, frozen in place, listening to everything around me. My skin prickles with awareness as I catalog every sound, from the clock ticking to the dishwasher running downstairs.
Could the kind, understanding man from the coffee shop be fooling me? Could he be trying to make me comfortable enough to let my guard down, only to toss me in the back of his car and drop me off with my uncle?
But he’s already had the opportunity if that’s what he wanted. I fell asleep on the ride to Armando’s house, so wouldn’t it have made more sense to get rid of me then?
My head spins with possibilities and doubts. There’s one sure way to know if I can trust Armando.
I slowly make my way to the door, resting my hand on the knob. I remember Armando telling me I could lock him out. In my experience, doors lock from theoutside, keeping whoever is inside trapped. Namely, me. Is this just another cage I’ve walked into?
