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And then thoughts of Leo intruded. His words, whispered in the darkness.
Love.
Was it really true?
My guard was down. I was distracted.
I heard the first four men, saw them coming, but I was distracted enough to miss the rest of them. Eight of them, armed with chains and pipes, knives and shanks. I fought back, fueled by desperation, and got at least two of them before I was overpowered, beaten into oblivion.
And each time I woke, another beating.
And another...
And I dreamed. Of my mother, the day she died, a man striding close to her—she slapped him as he grabbed her…
You stupid little bitch.
The scent of mint on her clothes as I tried and failed to pull her out of the water.
* * *
The stink of peppermint fades as I come to consciousness, and for a moment I think I’m in the cells under Redwood. The smell is the same.
But no. When I crack my eyes open, I see nine menacing figures looming over a tenth, who is tightly bound to a chair.
Pain shoots through my shoulders, and I flex my fingers and toes to try to get a sense of my position. My fingers are numb, my feet heavy, dangling up off the floor.
I look back to the circle of men.
That’s Leo in the middle.
Leo. Bloodied, looking back at me. I know him by his tattoos. He’s staring at me. “You want to kill me, fine,” he spits. “But don’t fucking tangle up my corpse with his.” His voice gets louder. “That little bitch over there, he means nothing to me.”
Anger twists in my gut at his words. I don’t understand—did Leolieto me during those moments in his apartment? Those whispered words were all I held onto while these peasants beat me into oblivion.
And now Leo’s eyes move up, over my arms, to the ceiling. I look up instinctively, following his gaze, and see I’m dangling from a hook on the ceiling, the ropes pulling tight enough to cut off blood circulation in my hands.
The man crouching next to Leo laughs as he stands. “I guess you get one last request, Leo. Fine. We’ll dump you separate, if that’s what you want.”
And he gives a nod to another man, who steps forward with a length of bloodied rebar and a crazy grin.
“Get on with it!” Leo barks. The Bernardis think he’s talking to them. But I wonder—
The first blow lands. Another, then another, each one harder than the last. Leo’s bruised and bloody face stares at me, eyes pleading, and something flares up in me.
Leo belongs to me. He’s part of me, and we understand each other. I look up again at the hook, hear again what he said.
That little bitch over there.
It’s a message, a code that only the two of us would understand.
Leo ismine.
I won’t let them take him from me.
I take a deep breath and swing my legs upward, every nerve ending screaming in protest as I plant my feet on the ceiling and feel the blood rush to my head. I ignore the agony. Agony passes. I concentrate on my position instead, setting up for a backflip, just like I did in Romeo’s Room, just like Leo was hinting at when he called me a little bitch just now.
There’s a moment when I think it won’t work. I’m too weak. But then I wrench my bound hands up and free them from the hook, flipping over, the noise of my hard, wobbly landing covered by the cheers of the Bernardi men as one of them punches Leo in the jaw.
