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That asshole hit me.
Although based on our interaction, I guess, at least he only hit me.
My reflection in the mirror across the room catches me off-guard and I gasp at my face. The whole left side is crusted with dried blood from the cut on my cheek. Behind the dried blood is a massive bruise and swelling that is quickly forcing my eye shut.
Walking into the bathroom, I grab the towel off of the rod and dampen it to clean the blood from my face. I cannot hold back the wince as I touch my own face, and tears well in my eyes as I delicately try to clean up the dried blood.
Even cleaned up, I look like I got the shit kicked out me.
Although, I guess I did just get the shit kicked out of me.
I pull open a few of the drawers looking for something for this pounding headache.
Heading back into the bedroom, I begin to look for something to help me get out of here – anything. Pulling open drawers is futile, as they are all empty. I regret that I stopped carrying my pocket knife. While it might not be super useful, at least it was something.
Yeah, because it did you a lot of good with Renzo.
The city lights sparkle on the other side of the window and even though the light hurts my eyes, I am immediately drawn to them. I stagger across the room, my body moving as though I am drunk. Stumbling the last couple of steps, I catch myself as my palm presses against the cool glass.
Keeping my hand on the glass, I attempt to regain my balance. I walk along the wall of windows, pacing with my palm lingering on the glass as I try to figure out a way out of here. With how high up I am, the only way out is going to be through the door I came in.
As much as I want to cross the room to check to see if the door is locked, my body will not cooperate. I just want to lay down and sleep for a little while.
Fumbling my way back to the bed, my body nearly collapses into it. My eye lids are heavy as I slowly curl my body into a ball.
BANG BANG BANG!
Gunshots echo from a distance on the other side of the door.
Renzo…
…Is he coming for me?
ChapterForty-Four
Lorenzo
With Carlo at my back, we quickly make our way down the hall picking off any of Karyan’s guys when we see them. By the time we make our way to the main area of the penthouse, we have left a trail of bodies in our wake.
We have eliminated every hired gun in this penthouse and been through every room except the one we watched them move Avalie into.
“Get Ava,” Carlo yells over to me, “I’ll do one more sweep to look for Karyan.”
“Be careful,” I call back to him before opening the door.
Stepping inside, I carefully sweep the room to ensure that the only other person in this room is Avalie laying on the bed. She doesn’t move as I approach her and I immediately think the worst.
Lowering my rifle, I pull my pistol from my waistband as I kneel on the floor beside her and gently brush her hair off of her face. An angry growl grumbles from my chest as I take in her face. If I wasn’t near certain that Carlo or I had already blown the face off of whoever the guy was that did this to her, I would be on a hunting spree.
“Piccola pesca,” I whisper while gently stroking her face, “It’s Lorenzo.”
“Renzo,” my name slurred as it passes over her lips.
Her eyelids flutter, but do not fully open.
“It’s okay,” I continue to stroke her hair.
“I knew you would come for me.”
