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People scream and run to the exits, trying to get away. I take Serenity and run to the back. We had a plan in case something went wrong. As we start running, I hear a shot ring out, and I cover my wife up.
White hot pain radiates through my arm, but I pay it no attention. I open the exit and see the black SUV parked with the engine running. I pull out my gun and cock it, just in case. One of my men opens the car door, shoves Serenity in, and I get in right behind her.
“Go! Go! Go!” I shout to the driver, slamming my hand on the back of his seat.
Serenity cries out as she looks at the arm I’m clutching. Blood oozes between my fingers and starts coating the gun in my hand. She takes the gun by the barrel and puts it on the ground, then tugs at my suit jacket, trying to get it off me. The car swings back and forth as we get onto the highway and drive to the safe house.
I had a place built out in the desert in case something happened, and this is one of those cases. I thought we were safe at the casino, but the Donnelleys are stupider than I thought. They made a statement tonight by doing this. They’re saying that I ain’t shit, and they can walk up and shoot my wife if they want.
Anger rages through me so much that I don’t even feel the pain in my arm. I look at Serenity, who looks at me with such fear, then looks at my wound. She tugs at her dress, ripping part of it off and tying the material around my arm.
That’s when I notice her hands are covered in blood.
I’m so disappointed in myself. Why did I take her out? I let my arrogance put my wife in jeopardy. That’s it. She’s staying at the safe house until this is over. There’s no fucking way we’re doing this again.
I hear Serenity sniffle as we drive off into the night. The adrenaline slowly ebbs away, and the silence brings everything down. The engine's rumble is the only noise in the car, except for Serenity crying. I pull her into my arms, ignoring the pinch of pain.
“Shh...” I run my hand through her hair and down her back as she clings to me, her tears soaking my dress shirt.
At one point, we exit the SUV, get into another cheaper car, and drive the rest of the way. One man will dump the vehicle, and the other will drive us to the house. The clink of little rocks hitting the car as he goes down the driveway echoes, and I watch the dust pass us by.
When we get to the house, I tell the driver to leave us, and I’ll contact him shortly. I wrap my jacket around Serenity and punch in the code for the house. It’s not as big as the mansion, but it's not like a cabin. It has a main floor and then a basement. The walls are thick, and the windows are bulletproof.
The light automatically turns on as we enter. Serenity looks around, not sure what to expect.
“We’re safe here, Serenity.” I groan as I reach to the top shelf next to the door and pull out the first aid kit.
The next room over is the kitchen, and I set the box down on the counter and then start taking off my shirt. I struggle with it, and with an exasperated breath, Serenity says, “Let me.”
She leaves me no room to protest; she just rips off my shirt and opens the box. She’s gone from fear and sadness to anger. Despite that, her touch is still gentle. She wipes away the blood and pours alcohol onto a cloth before pressing it over the wound.
I hiss as the sharp pain hits me, but I just breathe and keep myself calm.
It was only a scratch. The bullet just sliced through my arm. Nothing is embedded. Thank fuck, because I don’t know if Serenity could remain gentle if she had to dig out a bullet. After the wound is dressed, I put my shirt back on and search the kitchen for some whiskey.
I’ll call Rico later. Right now, I need a drink. I pour both of us a glass, and we down them before I pour another. Serenity looks like she’s losing it a bit. She’s pacing, eyes wide, searching for… something.
I go to give her a hug when she snaps at me.
“Why did you marry me?” she shouts her question at me, rage bubbling over. She grabs at my bloody shirt and then quickly releases it like she’s afraid she hurt me.
I grab her balled-up fists and place them on my chest.
I don’t know why that’s her question, but I answer it honestly.
“The original plan was because the Donnelleys, the men who shot at us, were after you. I needed to ensure they knew who you belonged to and a wedding was the best choice. But—” I stop myself from speaking. From admitting the real reason I married her.
“But what?” Tears stream down her cheeks, and she pushes me slightly. “But fucking what, Dante? Tell me.”
“But I wanted you to be mine. Regardless of what the Donnelleys will or won’t do. I wanted—needed—you to be mine.”
She gasps, and I release her hands. She takes a few steps back, and there’s nothing more I want to do than wrap my arms around her. I feel her slipping from me, but I can’t put her back into a cage. She doesn’t belong there.
She cups her face and takes a few ragged breaths.
“This is a disaster,” she says through her fingers.
Serenity runs her hands through her hair and starts to nod like she’s agreed to something or accepted my answer.
