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“So, now you know two things about me,” I said, letting out a shaky breath. “I believe it’s your turn.”
He looked at me like he was weighing something in his mind, then nodded. “I’m morbidly afraid of heights,” he confessed, but surely, he was joking.
“I can’t imagine you afraid of anything.”
He shrugged. “I won’t let fear or anything else stop me from doing what needs to be done, but I sure as hell prefer doing it with my feet on the fucking ground.”
I laughed. Bloody hell, he’d made me laugh. Shackled and awaiting torture in a concrete prison, and he made me laugh.
“Thank you,” I whispered, for I had no doubt why he was doing this.
I made the mistake of looking around, and I swear I could feel the walls moving closer, the ceiling sinking lower. There was no water here; we could die of dehydration in a matter of days. But I had a feeling we would not be so fortunate, nor would our wait be that lengthy.
“How can you be so sure we’ll be okay, Amadeo?” I asked, fully aware of the tremble in my voice.
“Because I won’t let anything happen to you,perla.”The lines of his jaw were fierce, but the conviction didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Do you know who they are?” I asked, feeling no need to explain to whom I was referring.
He was silent for a long moment, then nodded. “The name’s Sinclair. The family owns several corporations in London, but there’s more to them.”
I licked my lips that had gone dry. There was no missing the meaning of what he’d meant by ‘more’.
“I don’t know where it is, Amadeo,” I said, though it couldn’t have come out as more than a whisper. My voice felt strangled, like something had wrapped tightly around my throat.
“I know,perla,” he replied. The fainter movements of his lips meant he was whispering too.
His gaze shot to my left, toward the stairs that led to a door that might or might not have been there, and he shot to his feet, his hands still cuffed behind his back and secured to the post by a length of chain.
My body shook. My teeth clacked together.
I had a feeling there was a door.
And that door had just been opened.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Heidi
There were feet on the stairs. Feet dressed in shiny, black oxford shoes.
Then legs, covered with perfectly tailored black trousers.
A matching suit jacket. Jet black cufflinks. A black tie that nearly blended with the shirt beneath.
And then a face.
The moment I saw it, my breath escaped my lungs like I’d been punched.
The face smiled at me as he stepped down onto the concrete floor.
And the spider legs on his cheek wriggled.
I couldn’t breathe. He’d sucked all the oxygen out of the room, and no matter how hard I tried, my lungs couldn’t get enough. They chased the air over and over again but came up empty.
The spider-man came toward me. I don’t think he even spared a glance at Amadeo. It was like he wore blinders, and I was the only thing in his sights. I could envision the gun he’d held that night, the way he’d smiled at me then.
And just like that night, terror flowed through my veins as he took another step, and then another.
