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She screams from deeper within the forest. Ignoring Dario’s roar of protest, I duck my head and start sprinting again. I hold the gun tightly, ready to fire, kill, or do whatever it takes to keep my woman safe.
I emerge into a clearing in the trees, brighter than the rest of the forest without the foliage blocking the light. My chest tightens. An invisible hand is squeezing my heart, crushing the joy of the future, crushing the perfection of our love. Something terrible is going to happen unless I fix this.
A large Russian man has his arm wrapped around Emma from behind, a pistol pressed against the side of her head. He’s covered in tattoos, like the two men standing behind him, each holding a rifle.
“Should have gagged the bitch,” the Russian manhandling her says.
“No,” one of the men behind him says, laughing gruffly. “This is better. Now we have the leader. Big reward for this.”
I step forward, holding my pistol at my side. Dario’s nowhere to be seen, which is a good thing. When it comes to fighting, we both usually have good instincts. I’ve let mine get clouded. Emma’s eyes are wide with fear, and her breath is coming quickly. I can see that. I shouldn’t have charged in here, but Dario’s out there in the shadows.
“Drop the gun, American,” the manhandling prick says, “or I kill this bitch. I execute her, or maybe I put a bullet in your kneecap and make you watch.”
“Watch what?” the man behind says, laughing in that ugly way. “Good luck getting it up with this one.”
I’m shuddering, attempting to contain the explosions erupting inside of me, detonations over and over.
“Emma, it’s going to be okay,” I tell her.
“I’m sorry,” she whimpers. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“You don’t have to be sorry. Not with me. Never.”
“How sweet.” The leader shakes Emma, causing her to whimper in fear. “Now. Drop. The. Gun.”
With no other choice, I do as he says, but that doesn’t mean these bastards will get away with this. Insulting my woman, threatening her, hurting her… Nobody will ever get away with that.
CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
Emma
The man’s body is way too close, reeking of cigarettes, sweat, and the leather from his jacket. The gun barrel is icy cold and pushed against the side of my head, his voice ugly and guttural as he goes on.
“I could fuck her, yes? You wouldn’t mind? Who is she to you, American?”
Leo moves forward slowly, his hands raised, staring with dark intent in his eyes. He stares at my—oh, irony, there you are—kidnapperlike he’d happily snap his neck.
“She’s nobody,” he snaps, then glances at me.
I read the message in his eyes. Even the argument and my silly attempt at escape aren’t enough to eradicate our connection. He’s only saying this so the Russians don’t see me as important.
“Oh, really?” the kidnapper says. “So you don’t mind if I do this?”
I shift against him as his hand slides down toward my chest.
“No, no, stop,” I pant.
Leo tries to keep a poker face, but when the Russian almost fondles me, he opens his mouth in a primal roar. All the agony at the life these men are trying to steal comes thundering out.
“Don’t lay a fucking finger on her!”
The entire forest seems to tremble under the force of his words, his muscles straining out of his suit.
The Russian laughs. “I do not believe it. Leonardo Esposito withthisthing? This is a confusing turn of events.”
“How did you find us?” Leo growls. “Huh? How thefuckdid you find us?”
Leo creeps closer and closer. Luckily, the man isn’t threatening to touch me anymore. I think he just wanted to confirm I’m valuable. I’ve done so much wrong. I spent hours in my room stewing about the argument, angry at myself, Leo, and the world. Even angry at Rosa for being my best friend and making it impossible to be with the man of my dreams. All I had to do was wait to calm down and wait for the craziness to pass, but no, I fed it. I threw logs on the fire until it raged, and climbing the tree seemed like agoodidea.
