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He struggles with something for a minute before blowing out a deep breath. “I promised Nic I wouldn’t say anything. That if she stayed out of danger, then she’d be the one to tell you. But she’s in fucking danger now. Fuck.”
“Spit it out, Santi!” Maso shouts.
“She’s pregnant, man.” Stunned, I stare at my brother, speechless. “Or she might be. The doctor thinks she is, but not very far along. He wants her to go for a blood test in a couple of weeks when it would be more obvious with hormone levels or some shit.”
“When the fuck did you learn this?” I shout, my rage intensifying. “Why the fuck would she tell you and not me?”
“She didn’t tell me. I listened in on her and the doctor yesterday. I didn’t want her lying to you about why she was sick. I never thought she’d be fucking pregnant, so don’t get pissed with me, little brother.”
A goddamned baby.
She’s having my baby.
And she’s in the hands of a madman.
Nothing will stop me from killing them all.
The doorbell ringing draws my attention, and before I can snap the head off of whoever is there, Pace grins and crows, “I called in reinforcements last night,” as he opens the door to reveal Natale and Carlo Morello.
“I heard they didn’t take my warning seriously when I said she was off-limits,” Natale growls as he enters the house with his father. “Time to show them who runs this island, Domino.”
Pushing the new information about Nicola to the back of my mind because I’ll never be able to focus if I keep thinking about it, I Cheshire cat at the kid. “Let’s roll some heads.”
* * *
Nicola
Still dizzy and nauseous,I huddle in a corner of the basement away from the door, where they can’t see me. I know it won’t take Domino long to discover my absence, but we’re at a property I’ve never seen before, so I have no idea if he’ll know where to find me. And that’s terrifying.
The Salvatore’s have already taken everything they could from me; I don’t have anything left. Except my life.
If their plan was to kill me, I can only imagine they would have done so already. So maybe Vincenzo intends to sell me again?
The not knowing is what’s going to do me in.
I can hear raised voices as footsteps stomp around on the floor above me, but I can’t discern what the argument is about. It doesn’t matter, I tell myself. Taking a few cleansing breaths, I try to gain my bearings and peer around the room, searching for a way out. There is a small window on the other side of the room. If I could find something to lift me up, I might be able to shimmy my way out.
As I propel my body up the wall, my eyes roam around the dark space, the only light projecting from the window I plan to break out of. Skulking along the damp wall, I stay away from the stairs, wanting to avoid detection if someone happens to open the door to come for me.
Behind the steps are some rubber bins that won’t hold my weight, but as I get farther back, I find a sturdy cooler and quietly pull it out. Dragging it to the window, I stand atop it, and I’m still not tall enough. Going back to the cubby under the staircase, I look for something else.
Coming up empty, frustration eats at me, and my temper begins to spike. Which is never good, especially in this situation because it’s not just me I have to think about. The possibility of a baby is real, and I can’t risk bringing any harm to it.
Staring at the rubber bins, an idea forms. Taking the lids off each, I nest the containers within each other to create one firmer one and place it upside down on top of the cooler. Stacking the covers on top of that for extra support. I gently stand on the apex, keeping my feet on the edges.
Gazing out the window, I see a fence about two feet away, so it must be the side of the house, making it unlikely that anyone would be watching this area. Yanking on the window lever, it doesn’t budge, even after unlocking it. Taking off the robe I put on this morning, I wrap the material around my fist and tap at the corner of the window.
Lightly at first, making sure no one comes running before slamming my fist straight through. My captors’ arguments don’t stop, so I slide my wrapped hand along the edges until all the glass is gone.
I already know my skin is going to get torn up, but I place the robe along the bottom edge of the window anyways before pulling myself up.
My balance on the bins is precarious as I barely hold my weight up. Wiggling through the tiny frame, I can feel flesh being torn from splintered wood and glass as I work my way free of this hell hole.
With no time for a victory cheer, I remain low and look around me. There are no other windows on this side of the house, so they won’t notice me. Studying the rooftops for cameras, I don’t find any yet.
Grabbing the robe so I can cover myself back up, I ignore the pain of the cuts on my thighs, sides, back, and stomach as I quietly make my way to the front of the house. Peaking around the sidewall, the driveway is long and clear of trees. I’ll get spotted if I run this way.
Trekking back, I hope there’s a way through the neighbor’s yard, or I might be stuck. Approaching the window I escaped through, I peer inside before darting across the opening to ensure nobody has noticed my absence yet.
