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My face seems to be pretty well intact–surprisingly–but the tender lump on the back of my head tells me someone either kicked me, or I hit a rock while I was down on the ground. Based on my dizzy spells and previous loss of consciousness, I wouldn’t be surprised if I have a concussion.
That being said, I don’t think I’m openly bleeding anywhere. I managed to get out of my first interrogation with all of my fingers and toes–matching nails still intact. I’ll take that as a win.
I look at Ellie, strapped to the chair beside me, to make sure she isn’t hurt. “Are you okay?” I murmur quietly.
Her eyes flick to the guards, but they seem entirely disinterested in my question, so she looks at me. “I’m just s-scared,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “But I’m more concerned about your injuries. They were kicking you so hard–” Her voice hitches, and she sniffles as she takes a moment to collect herself.
Come to think of it, the sight of me getting my ass handed to me was probably twice as terrifying, considering I look so much like Lucca. It probably wasn’t a far stretch for her to imagine him in my place.
“You look like you’ve lost a lot of blood,” she breathes, her eyes round with fear.
“It’s mostly Bratva blood,” I promise, then I glance toward the guards, realizing that it probably sounded like a taunt. But truthfully, I’ve spilled more blood tonight than all the rest of my life combined. And I would do it all over again to save Bianka. I only wish I’d gotten Ellie out too.
Ellie’s eyes follow mine to look at the guards, and she swallows hard, but neither man drops his gaze. Their eyes remain locked on the picture window and the landscape growing more visible by the minute as the sun crests the horizon.
“I just have a few nicks and scratches aside from the bruising,” I assure her. I don’t mention the fact that my ribs are probably broken, and I might have a concussion because Ellie looks freaked out enough already.
My confidence seems enough to reassure her, and her shoulders relax. Then her face grows sad. “I can’t believe we got caught again. We were so close… I’m sorry, Cass. You got caught because of me.”
“Hey, don’t say shit like that,” I scold gently. “I make my own choices in life, and I’m prepared to accept the consequences. Besides, if I left you behind, Lucca would have skinned me alive.”
A startled giggle bursts from Ellie and she cuts it short nervously, but for a moment, I could put her at ease.
“There she is,” I say lightly and rest my head back against the chair gingerly. “Everything will be okay. You’ll see. By the way, watching you run in those shoes might be the single most badass thing I’ve ever seen.”
Ellie flashes me a grin, the color returning to her cheeks. “Thanks, Cass. And… whatever happens, just know how grateful I am for everything.”
Her words ring with devastating finality, and a dark cloud of foreboding looms over me as I fight the prophecy of her words. My attempt at levity hasn’t stopped her from seeing the reality of our situation. One or both of us could very likely die today.
“I could die a thousand deaths and never repay you for helping bring Bianka back to me.” I meet her eyes with deep sincerity, and my stomach wrenches as fresh tears spring to her eyes.
“You make her so happy,” she whispers, a sad smile spreading across her face.
God, I didn’t think anything could be more painful than my throbbing ribs or smarting head, but those words blast a hole straight through me. Because that’s all I’ve ever wanted. To make Bianka happy.
“All the more reason for us to get out of here, right?” I say lightly.
“Silence,” a guard growls, seeming to have finally lost his patience.
He takes a menacing step in my direction, and Ellie cringes away. I press my lips closed for her sake and meet his eyes, refusing to roll over and play dead. Not when he has direct orders not to touch me.
The guard watches me coldly for several minutes before resuming his post. In the silence that follows, overwhelming exhaustion envelops me. I rest my head back against the chair once more, letting my eyes fall closed.
I can’t remember the proper concussion protocol and whether or not I’m allowed to sleep or if I should try to stay awake. But I’m so intensely bone-weary that I can’t seem to stop myself as the numb relief of unconsciousness gradually overtakes me. And though I’m bound to a chair and surrounded by enemies, I manage to sink into a deep, unsettling sleep.
27
BIANKA
The fanfare with which Cassio’s older brother arrives several hours later lifts my eyebrows, and Ilya’s hackles visibly raise. Four Escalades come to a sliding stop along the gravel road. The doors open, heavily armed Italians spilling for with militant coordination, each looking ready to light us up over the slightest infraction.
They’re not like my brother’s men–hardened, muscle-bound warriors who could break a man’s neck with their bare hands. On the whole, they’re still quite intimidating but in a lithe, athletic way, their lethality coming in the form of automatic weapons and cold, emotionless eyes.
I recognize Nicolo Marchetti the moment he steps from his car, though I’ve never actually met him. But he looks impressively like his younger twin brothers–only his eyes hold a terrifying ruthlessness, a violence I’ve never seen in Cassio before. Not even when he killed three guards right in front of me to help me and Ellie escape.
No, Nicolo is the true heir of Lorenzo Marchetti, fully capable of the necessary viciousness that comes with the title. From the way Cassio spoke of him, and how protective and loving he is with Anya and their daughter, I had pictured someone softer, more in line with his brothers.
But the man before me is the farthest thing from it. As his men form a protective shield around him, I shiver at the unquestionable command he yields without raising a finger.
