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Nineteen
Cole
Ascream echoed through the warehouse, turning my blood to ice.
Adele.
Paused just outside the door that led to the walkway around the upper level of the warehouse, I forced myself to stay still long enough to listen. Another scream ripped through the air, and I twisted the knob, easing the door open.
On the walkway stood a sniper, holding his gun at rest, watching the events below him unfold like he was an audience member at some sick kind of theater. Using his distraction to my advantage, I slipped into the shadows behind him.
Voices drifted up from the main floor, but I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. I recognized Giorgio, as much from the cruel, taunting tone as much as the actual timbre of his voice. Another man, who must have been Pierce stood beside him.
And Adele. Not begging or pleading for mercy as anyone else in her position might have done, but strong and fierce.
That’s my girl. Just hold on a little while longer, baby. Daddy’s coming.
Adele
The twin gashes along my forearms burned and throbbed with every beat of my heart. And with every drip of my blood onto the concrete floor, it became more and more obvious Cole wasn’t coming for me.
I was on my own.
My wrists and ankles were zip tied to the chair, giving me zero wiggle room or leverage. I’d tested the bonds during a brief reprieve when my captors had turned their backs on me, but the plastic dug into my skin, rubbing it raw. The chair itself was metal, so the likelihood of breaking it and at least gaining some use of my limbs seemed unlikely.
Merde.
Just as Giorgio turned back to me, the tip of his blade glittering crimson with my blood, there was a soft pop from somewhere in the warehouse and he lurched backward, the knife clattering to the floor. Clutching his shoulder with the opposite hand, he let loose a string of curses, his head jerking up to glare at something over my head.
“Where are you, Porter? Show yourself, you fucking coward!”
Cole? My heart leapt at the sound of his name, then slammed against my ribcage as fear coursed through me. “Cole! Run!”
As if I’d set off some kind of trigger, gunfire exploded above our heads. Giorgio and Pierce circled me, guns raised as they scanned the chaos up on the walkway. When Pierce stepped behind me, I rocked myself backward, crashing into him and toppling us both to the ground. His gun skittered across the concrete, too far away for me to even attempt to reach. But as long as he didn’t have it, I assured myself I at least had a fighting chance.
Giorgio spun around, the barrel of his gun leveled at my chest. I froze, fear holding me in place more effectively than any restraint.
“Let her go, Bianchi.”
Like an avenging angel, Cole’s command rang out in the sudden, eerie silence. I hadn’t even noticed that the gunfire had stopped. Beneath me, Pierce was still and silent as well. Dead, somehow, if there was any sort of justice in the world.
“Tell you what.” Giorgio raised his voice, addressing Cole, but his gaze never left me. “Come and face me like a man, and I’ll let the whore go.”
“Don’t do it!” I screamed, pain exploding in my head as Giorgio’s designer shoe connected with my skull.
Another shot rang out, but I couldn’t tell where it came from or what it had hit.
Until I saw Giorgio’s eyes grow wide and the red stain blossoming across his chest. He fell to his knees beside me, and from the shadows stepped Cole, holding a sniper rifle as he approached.
With a kick he sent Giorgio forward. Confused, terrified eyes locked on mine, he let out one final, gurgling breath as the life drained from his face.
“Ah, sweetheart. I broke my promise.”
Tearing my eyes away from Giorgio, I stared up at Cole. “What?”
The corner of his mouth tilted up in a smirk. “I promised if he hurt you, he would die begging you for mercy. I really wanted to give you that.”
“Oh.” I let out a strangled laugh. “I forgive you. Could you, perhaps, get me out of this chair though?”
