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Hours passedas I tried desperately to fight the exhaustion, the bone-deep pain ravaging my body. Alessia was curled up beside me, her head in my lap as she slept fitfully. I ran my hand over her hair, trying to soothe her nightmares.
No one had visited us again. I was thirsty, tired, and there wasn’t a part of my body that didn’t ache—maybe from the bullet wound in my shoulder or maybe from the concussion I was sure I’d received. Either way, the fight to remain conscious had been a brutal one I was surprised to have won. Although, I couldn’t be sure that I hadn’t dozed off a couple of times.
Earlier, I’d been grateful for the light but now, my eyes were strained and bleary.
I’d mentally scanned every inch of the room for something that might help me get us out of here. But there was nothing.
There was one option… but just the idea of using Alessia as bait made me want to vomit.
As if she heard my dark thoughts, she began to stir.
“Tristan?” Panic saturated her voice as she sat up, blinking at me.
“I’m here, Principessa, I’m right here.”
A faint smile graced her lips. “What’s wrong?” Her brows pinched, and I huffed out a little sigh of resignation.
“I have a plan, but you’re not going to like it.”
“We’ve got to do something,” she said. “Whatever it is, I can handle it.”
Conviction clung to her features and I don’t think I’d ever seen Alessia look more determined.
“Okay,” I said. “This is what I need you to do.”
CHAPTER5
ALESSIA
My heart beat furiously in my chest as I inhaled a deep breath.
I could do this.
I could totally do this.
Tristan gave me a small nod and I bellowed, “Help, help. Somebody help me. Oh God.”
I glanced back at Tristan who was now lying prone, his eyes closed and expression lax. It was a convincing act, so convincing that I wanted to tell him to wake up.
“Help me, oh God, help—”
The door swung open and two men appeared. I didn’t recognize them as the men from earlier.
“Help him,” I shrieked. “Somebody help him.”
“Shit,” one of the guy’s murmured. “Grab the girl while you see to him.”
“Nah, leave him. He’s—”
“Fuck.”
Tristan started convulsing on the floor.
“Help him, please. You have to help him.” I tried to go to him but the guy banded his arm around my waist, pulling me into him.
“Easy, easy,” he said as I kicked and screamed, thrashing in his arms.
“Seriously Grant, just put a bullet through his head and be done with it. The boss wants us—”
