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Dimitri's screams follow me outside. It doesn't make up for what he's done to Cara, but it helps soothe my soul a little.
Chapter 17
Cara
There's a beeping sound. I can't work out where it's coming from, but every little beep sends a spike of pain through my head. I'm afraid to open my eyes. The last time I was conscious, the shaved head man was threatening to throw my body off the dock. What if I died and this is some twisted version of Hell where I spend forever being tortured by irritating noises?
"Cara," a voice breathes, and a large hand squeezes mine. My pulse rate slows. I know that voice. It belongs to the man I've fallen for. Maybe I went to heaven instead and my afterlifeinvolves a memory loop featuring a hot, muscled guy with very talented fingers, a sexy mouth, and a massive--
"Cara!" The voice is a lot more insistent now. "Wake up,amore mio, please wake up." He sounds a bit desperate and my heart twinges with pain. I want to open my eyes, I really do, but the pressure in my head is too great, so I move my fingers instead. Just a brief flex, but it's enough to show him I'm aware of his presence.
"Ohgrazie a Dio," he mutters, wrapping his other hand around mine too.
I'm safe.
???
The next time the cloudy veil of murk in my head lifts, the pain in my head has receded somewhat and I force my eyelids open. Bright sunlight filters through the blinds. It has to be at least midday, maybe later. How long have I been here? I assume it's a hospital, but equally, it could be a fancy hotel room judging by the luxurious furnishings.
Christiano is asleep in an adjacent chair, his long legs stretched out, dark circles under his eyes. He looks so much younger and less aggressive when he sleeps. I take the opportunity to trace the lines of his jaw with my eyes. The scruff there tells me he's not shaved for a while and the rumpled shirthe wears is not clean, but I can smell the faint notes of the delicious scent that is purely him, all male.
He's so beautiful. I have no clue what he sees in me. I am truly ordinary; nothing special at all. I'm the kind of girl men fuck and then leave for someone better; someone prettier, less awkward, and usually richer. I'm the quintessential good-time girl, not the kind of girl you take home to your parents. Not with my blue hair and pierced eyebrow.
Maybe he's here because he feels guilty. After all, it's his fault I was kidnapped. The scary guy with the shaved head told me I was taken because Christiano was seen with me, and they assumed I was his girlfriend.
Idiots.
Sure, he feels responsible for me because I'm Thalia's friend, but not because I'm me. He's probably only here because Thalia would be mad if he didn't make sure I was alright before he left.
Anyway, none of that's important. I can't get involved with Christiano, even if he wanted me. His life is so far removed from mine it's laughable. I know he said I was his now and he planned to take care of me, but men say stupid shit like that all the time. Words are cheap. Being with him is too dangerous. I was lucky this time. Somehow, someone rescued me and I'm away from the monsters who planned bad things, but who's to say it won't happen again?
My head whirls as I ponder what the fuck I'm supposed to do next. Then I remember Hamish is all alone in my apartment while I've been stuck in here.
"Hamish!" It's not until Christiano's eyes snap open and he smiles with relief that I realize I yelled this out loud.
"Amore mio, the cat is fine."
"He is?"
"I asked your neighbor to go in and feed him."
I breathe a sigh of relief. Maisie loves Hamish almost as much as I do. She'll sit with him for hours and rub his belly while feeding him treats. He knows exactly how to play her.
"How are you feeling,tesoro?"
"Like shit. My head hurts. What happened?"
He moves closer and takes my hand. I want to pull away but like always, he's the sun in my universe and I'm drawn to him. It's insane. Any sensible girl would run away screaming after being kidnapped because of who he is. Sadly, I'm certifiable, it seems.
"We rescued you and I brought you here. The doctor says you got here in time, and they managed to stabilize you before the head injury caused any permanent damage." The way his fists squeeze my hand tells me he's fighting back his emotions, but I'm too caught up on the 'rescue' bit.
"How long have I been here? How did you rescue me? What happened to the men who took me?" I have so manyquestions. It all seems too unreal, like I've fallen into a movie plot.
"Two days. Romano tracked the van they used and some information I received confirmed your location. We went in, shot a few people, and found you."
"You make it sound like a picnic in the park," I comment. I feel certain he's leaving a lot out, but I don't have the energy to push for more. Although, I do feel compelled to ask, "What happened to the guy with the shaved head?"
"Dead."
