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“Uh-uh.” More blood trailed down Navy’s throat, soaking her skin and the material of her T-shirt that was hanging off her body. Her hands gripped the arm of the chair she was strapped to, her body deathly still.
“Navy,” I croaked out. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”
“It’s not okay!” Miriam shouted, her knuckles turning white from how hard she was gripping the handle. “If I die, then so does she.”
I held my hands up, fully aware that my gun was still clutched in my grip. “I’m not going to kill you.”
She snorted. “You won’t, but he will.” She jerked her wrist, moving the knife across Navy’s skin. More blood spurted out, a steady stream that I knew would soon become gushing redness. I had to get to her. I had to get the blade away from her skin. “She has to be sold!” Miriam shouted.
I glanced back at Navy, trying to silently tell her to get ready. Her chest heaved as she inhaled a breath, her body moving forward the barest of centimeters. She looked to her left, trying to show me what she was going to do, but I had no idea what she was trying to say. I was going off of my instincts, knowing that all it would have taken was one more swipe of the knife and she’d bleed out right in front of me.
“Miriam,” I started, taking another step inside. I was only a few feet away now. “Please just—” I cut myself off as I threw my arm out, knocking the light down. The glass smashed on the floor, a scream echoed around us, but I knew exactly where Miriam was. I lunged for her, our bodies colliding. Sharp pain exploded over my stomach as she sliced at me, but it was superficial, not knocking me down.
I raised my gun, grabbing her around the waist. “Have fun rotting in hell,” I ground out, pressed the barrel to her head, then pulled the trigger. Once, twice…three times.
The room was silent, save for our breaths mingling.
Everything came crashing around me as Miriam’s body thumped against the floor.
It was over. She was safe. Dario was safe. My family…my family were safe.
“Dante,” Navy’s small voice called.
I couldn’t see her in the darkness now, but I felt for her, dropping to my knees. “Sweetheart,” I murmured, finding her face with my hands. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” she whispered.
“It is. If I would have been with you, then—”
She shook her head, cutting me off. “No.” A light flashed inside the room, illuminating us. Her stare bore into mine, holding me captive, just like it had the first night we met. “I shouldn’t have gone out on my own.” I wiped away her tears with my thumb, feeling like I was breaking apart but being put back together by her all at the same time.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m sorry about the gun, I’m sorry about not having it locked away. I’m sorry you’re hurt. I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”
I felt Romeo behind me, moving closer. He bent down, grabbing the knife that was on the floor next to Miriam.
“You saved me,” Navy whispered, grunting as Romeo cut her arms free. He bent down next to me, reaching for her legs, and as soon as she could move, she threw herself into my arms.
And I held her. I held her like I was afraid she’d disappear. I held her as tight as I could. I held her and promised, “I’ll never let you get hurt again.”
She pushed her face into my neck, a sob breaking free. “I love you, D.”
“I love you too, sweetheart.” I slowly stood, taking her with me, not willing to let her go for a single second. “Let’s get our son and go home, yeah?”
“Yeah,” she sighed. “Home. With you. The only place I ever want to be.”
EPILOGUE
NAVY
“Yes,” I ground out, thrusting my hips up to meet his. “Just like that, D. Just. Like. That.”
Dante’s hands gripped mine, holding them above my head as he pounded away inside me. His rhythm didn’t break for one second, not when he kissed my neck and the scar that was left behind, and not when his lips collided with mine, his tongue swiping through my mouth.
I tried not to think about the scar as he lavished me with attention, but it was hard when that was all I saw in the mirror. It had been three weeks since Dante had shot Miriam point-blank. Twenty-one days since my father had helped to find me. And countless hours of nightmares and cold sweats.
The physical wounds would heal, but the mental ones would last longer than anyone could ever imagine.
I tried not to think about the day that Dario and I had been taken. I tried to lead a normal life, but it was hard. Harder than I ever thought possible.
