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“Do you think they’re empty?” The beginnings of a smile stir his lips, and like me, he folds his arms.
I don’t back down. “So far, they have been. What’s stopping you? Why not get it over with?”
“And what could you be referring to?” he counters, and something stirs low in my belly when he raises an eyebrow. “What is it? What are you in such a hurry for? For me to kill you like I said I would… or is it something else? Are you remembering how hard you came and wanting a little more?”
I am not going to shrink back this time. I will not look away when he hits me with that penetrative stare. “I want this to be over. You keep talking like you’re going to end it. I wish you would.”
“Is this reverse psychology? Do you think you’ll stay alive by pretending you want to die?”
“I don’t want to die,” I assure him, shaking my head slowly. “But if this is living, I would rather it be over now.”
His jaw tightens, and a million emotions pass over his handsome face—anger, confusion, dismay, and so many others—before he releases a soft growl that lifts the hair on the back of my neck. “Don’t push me. You might end up getting your wish.”
“Is that supposed to scare me?” I counter. “Because it doesn’t. Not anymore.”
“And why not?” He’s breathing faster and harder as he places his palms against the table and rises from his chair.
“Because I know you don’t want to kill me.” I rise even though my leg screams its refusal. But I use it, grinding my teeth against it, turning all my helpless rage, fatigue, and despair into armor. “If you did, you would’ve done it by now. And you haven’t contacted anybody about me… anybody who would care, though that’s not a long list of people. So you’re either keeping me because you don’t know what to do with me or because you can’t bring yourself to murder me. Which is it? What are you saving me for?”
He pins me in place with a hard, cold gaze, making my heart stutter. “Do not test me.”
My body flushes with heat as his cologne envelops my senses. “That’s not an answer.”
He sweeps his arm over the table all at once, sending plates, forks, and glasses flying across the room. Then, he reaches out, taking my arm in a brutal grip that makes me grind my teeth and cry out in pain I can’t contain. “Do you want to know what I’m saving you for?” He growls close to my face before turning me in place, forcing me to bend over the table thanks to the hand he presses against the center of my back.
An entire cacophony of conflicting emotions engulfs me like wildfire through dry brush. The fear, anger, and desire, one after another, surge through me too fast for me to hold onto. Panic unleashes in my mind and the dim but very real instinct that demands I fight.
But louder and stronger than that is the heat that bursts to life at his touch, as his rough hands paw at my body and fondle my ass before he reaches around to cup my pussy. I bite down on my clenched fist, hoping to hold back a moan of sheer, helpless want.
“Is this enough of an answer for you?” He takes me by the hips and grinds against me, and I fight back another moan when I feel that impossibly large bulge rubbing against my ass crack. Something akin to joy erupts low in my belly when he starts tugging on my pants.
Until…
We both go still when tires crunch the leaves and sticks outside the cabin. Then, all at once, a million images run through my mind. This could be my salvation, or it could be the end of me. I shoot a panicked look over my shoulder to find Luca staring at the door, his eyes narrowed into dark, deadly slits like an animal that has sensed danger.
“You’re so ready to die, Detective?” He pulls me upright, his gaze still trained on the door as he grips me tight. “This might be your lucky day.”
16
LUCA
I should’ve known this was coming.
“Who could it be?” Emilia’s frantic whisper echoes the question ringing out in my head. Did my father decide against waiting for me to come home? Or maybe it was Dante who ran out of patience. As far as I know, only the family knows this house’s location.
“Don’t move.” I cross the cabin in a few long, quiet strides, stopping beside the front window so I can take a look at our visitor.
Our visitors, as it turns out. Three men dressed in shades of brown and dark green climb out of a black SUV and look around, sizing up their surroundings. Do they think they’re going to blend in wearing those clothes? I don’t recognize any of them, but that doesn’t matter. I didn’t know Emilia’s assassin was sent by my father, either.
My heart jumps into my throat when one of the men reaches into the rear of the vehicle and withdraws a semi-automatic rifle, which he uses to shoot out my tires.
So much for subtlety.
“Luca!” Emilia’s startled cry rings out, and I’ve made my decision before my body starts to move. I could pull my gun from the safe, fire on them, and maybe even get a decent shot or two, but I’m out armed and outnumbered. And that would leave her defenseless.
I rush back to where she crouches beside the kitchen table, then flip it onto its side for us to take cover behind. “How many are there?” she asks before a bullet pierces the front door, and we both duck.
“Three. Semi-automatics.”
