Saving Her: A Dark Mafia Duet

by Eden Summers

  “You promise?”

  “Of course I do. I’d never put you in harm’s way. You know that.” I grab his hands. “Go. Get some food. Take a look around.”

  “But—”

  “It’s time to listen, Tobias. This is important. Remember what I said about getting back home?”

  He nods, his face pinched with understanding.

  “Good.” I squeeze his fingers. “We need to get the others. And to do that I have to talk to Luca.”

  He sinks his teeth into his lower lip as if fighting off the need to disobey.

  “It’s only a few minutes,” I repeat. “Find me something to eat.”

  “Come on, kiddo.” Sebastian’s voice is filled with reluctance. “Neither one of us want to leave her, so let’s do it together.”

  I ignore the ache in my heart and lean forward to whisper in Toby’s ear. “Don’t answer any questions. Don’t tell them anything.”

  He wraps his arms around me, clinging tight as if we’re about to be separated for months instead of moments. “I’ll be smart.”

  “I know you will.” I pull back and give him a quick kiss on the forehead. “Go.”

  He holds his head high as he walks toward the strangers, Keira reaching out a hand he refuses to take.

  That little boy has a wealth of fortitude. With his upbringing, he had no choice. Violence has been an everyday occurrence. He was raised on a steady diet of brutality.

  He hasn’t even cried over his father’s death—there have only been a million sniffles to hold the emotion at bay. He will break, though. Once he feels safe he’ll temporarily slip into the child he’s meant to be, letting the heartache free before he becomes the product of his emotionless father all over again.

  “We’ll be back soon.” Sebastian starts for the door. “And we’re not going far.”

  They leave together, each member of the trio taking turns in glancing over their shoulder with uncertainty before Luca closes the door behind them, trapping me in the room with him.

  I try not to falter. To panic at the isolation with this formidable man.

  “It’s not a good idea to lie.” He turns to face me, his eyes squinted in judgment. “So let’s pretend it didn’t happen.”

  “Excuse me?” I swallow over the building tension. This man is nothing in comparison to Luther, or even Chris or Robert. But he’s devoid of innocence, too. There’s something about him that niggles at my self-preservation.

  “We both know that kid isn’t diabetic.”

  I hold his stare, neither confirming nor denying his keen assessment.

  “He hasn’t had food or water for a damn long time,” he drawls, “I’m sure he’d be showing symptoms by now.”

  Still I don’t respond.

  “But I get it.” He approaches in a lazy stride. Cool. Confident. Blood still painted down one cheek. The gash on the side of his head still glistening. “You’re scared. You’re grasping at straws to get your friends to safety.”

  “My family,” I correct.

  He inclines his head with a wince. “Yes. Your family. Those women. I’d do whatever it takes, too. But lying isn’t going to help you. If you lead Torian into a bloodbath based on bullshit you’re not going to like how he retaliates.”

  I step back at the warning. “You’re threatening me?”

  “I’m protecting you,” he snarls. “You won’t get what you want if you base your plea on lies. I told you I would take care of it.”

  “Yes, you told me you’d take care of it, with no understanding of the situation you’re facing or the looming deadline. If we’re going to be telling each other the truth, the least you can do is admit you were fobbing me off.”

  “No, I wasn’t. I was only attempting to clean up one fucking mess before I took on another.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes shut.

  For a moment, I’m struck by his show of vulnerability.

  He’s hurting.

  I haven’t seen weakness from a man since I was taken by Luther long ago. It’s always been strong men with stronger fists. And yes, this man remains strong, but there’s a sense of honesty about him, too.

  “I made a promise,” he grates. “I don’t do that lightly.”

  “You’ve made many promises. Including setting me free.”

  His eyes open slightly, narrowed slits staring back at me. “You are free.”

  My yearning to believe him hasn’t lessened. Neither has the determination not to trust him.

  “I’ll help those women,” he continues. “Have faith I can get them out.”

  “You won’t make it through the front gates without me.”

  “Then I’m happy for you to provide the necessary insight that helps us to get in another way.”

  “Us?” I ignore yet another refusal to let me leave and focus on obtaining more information about his plan.

  “I’m not stupid enough to go on my own. Your brother will want to help, and Hunter is always looking for a bit of fun.”

  Fun? Fun.

  “Wrong choice of words.” He drops his hand from his nose and holds it up to me in placation. “I meant Hunter enjoys retribution. Especially against those who deserve a lot of it. Your tormentors will pay for what they’ve done.”

  “I don’t care about revenge. All I want are my sis—”

  There’s a tentative knock at the door.

  “Yeah?” Luca snaps.

  The barrier to the rest of the world opens, Tobias’s little face coming into view. He rushes toward me, keeping his distance from Luca as he passes to hold up a cookie.

  “This is for you,” he offers. “They said you need to eat.”

  “Thank you.” I grasp the offering but can’t stomach taking a bite, not with the lives of four people riding on my negotiating skills.

  “Penny?” Tobias cringes and twists his legs together. “I really need to use the bathroom now.”

  Shit.

  I glance at Luca in question.

  “It’s right in here, little buddy.” He jerks his head at the ajar door across the other side of the room, then quickly squeezes his eyes shut again, wincing. “Walk through the robe to the door at the end.”

  Tobias peers up at me, waiting for approval.

  “It’s okay.” I want to go with him, to lessen his fear, but I’m not finished with Luca. Not by a long shot. “Freshen up while you’re in there. Wash your face and hands.”

  He nods, keeping an eye on the stranger as he walks to the door before disappearing inside.

  The conversation doesn’t fall back into place once we’re alone.

  Luca’s eyes remain partially squinted, his face pinched with discomfort.

  Despite being uncertain about where to lay my trust, I don’t like seeing him in pain.

  “Do you need a doctor?”

  “I’ll be fine. It’s nothing but a headache.”

  “It’s not fine. Not when you expect me to entrust you with the lives of the people I love.”

  His nostrils flare. “You know what? The slightest bit of appreciation would go a long fucking way to ease the throb in my head. All I’ve done is try to help you and you keep spitting it back in my face.”

  I straighten, the tiniest fissure of regret breaking through my defenses.

  He’s right. I’ve shown very little thanks for what he’s done. But that’s because his promises of freedom don’t feel real. The death of my captors seems like a dream.

  Shock hasn’t allowed for anything positive to sink in. Not relief or happiness.

  Definitely not the appreciation he craves.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m not ungrateful. I’m just…”

  “Forget it.” He huffs out a sigh. “I’ve got a spare shirt if you want to get out of your stained clothes.” His attention treks my body, the scrutiny far more subtle than what I’m used to. There’s no desire. No threat. “Or Keira might have something you can borrow.”

  “I don’t want anything from her.�
� Not clothes. Not placations. “I’ll make do with what I have.”

  “You can’t go back to Naxos in bloodstained clothes.”

  I straighten. “Go back?”

  “That’s what you want, isn’t it?” He raises a brow. “And apparently I can’t get through the gates without you.”

  The appreciation he’s been searching for finally hits me, the buzz filtering through my limbs. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. Torian has to—”

  “Penny.” Tobias’s frantic voice calls from the bathroom. “Penny.”

  My heart drops, the cookie falling from my fingers.

  I run, scrambling toward the plea for help, only to have Luca beat me to the door as he pulls a gun from the back of his waistband. I make it to the bathroom a step behind him to find Toby standing at the bathroom counter, looking at the side of his shirt.

  His eyes bug at the sight of us, his focus turning to the gun, his mouth dropping open as if he’s about to scream.

  “What’s wrong?” I push past Luca and place a hand on his arm to encourage him to lower the weapon. “What happened?”

  Tobias shrinks into me.

  “It’s okay.” I crouch before him and grab his waist, clinging tight to gain his attention. “Luca thought you were in trouble. He came racing in here to help. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “There’s blood.” He twists his shirt to show me the stain on the side of the material. “I think I’m hurt.”

  My pulse spikes.

  I’ve been hit so many times during the height of an adrenaline rush that I know what it’s like not to feel injuries until the intensity wears off.

  If he’s hurt and I didn’t know… If he’s dying and I didn’t think to check him…

  I stand, grabbing his shirt to yank it over his head, then mount a full-scale search of his body, frantically scanning him everywhere. Arms. Stomach. Back. Skull.

  I can’t find any cuts or marks. There’s nothing. Only pure, delicate skin. But I keep searching, making him spin around one more time to triple check.

  “I don’t think he’s injured.” Luca approaches, his gun thankfully returned to the back of his jeans. “Even if he was, I’m sure he’d survive. You’re a tough kid, aren’t you, Tobias? Brave, too.”

  Toby straightens with the compliment, his tiny muscles moving under my touch. He nods, quick and sharp, the slightest sense of pride ebbing from him.

  “Why don’t you get him to take a shower or a bath?” Luca asks. “It might help. I can get him a clean T-shirt to wear afterward. Obviously it will swim on him, but it’s better than walking around in stained clothes.”

  More pained beats pummel my chest. I don’t like how his kindness affects me. The tiny fingers of comfort latch around my chest, threatening to squeeze me to death. It takes all my strength to ignore my doubt. For Toby’s sake.

  “What do you say?” I cup his cheek. “Do you think a relaxing bath will make you feel better? You’ve been awake for a long time and the water might help you wind down so you can rest for a few hours.”

  He stares at me with indecision, then shoots a nervous glance at the bulking man blocking the doorway.

  “Don’t worry, little guy. I’ll leave.” Luca steps back from the door and awkwardly bumps into the frame as he retreats.

  I narrow my gaze, watching as he fumbles then sways on his feet before disappearing from view. Something is wrong with him. Very wrong.

  “Toby, start getting undressed. I’ll be back to run the water in a second.” I follow after Luca, my stride long as I catch up to him in the bedroom. “Wait.” I grab his arm when he doesn’t stop and let go just as fast. My grip on his muscled bicep was a stark reminder of the threat he provides. Of his dangerous abilities.

  He turns to look at me, and stumbles. His face is pale, a glimmer of sweat breaking across his brow.

  Before I know it I’m latching onto him again, this time trying to keep him upright, the knitted muscle beneath my hands hard and unyielding.

  “What’s wrong?” I struggle to keep him standing. “Luca?”

  He stares straight through me, his forehead creased. “Shit.”

  “I’ll get help.” I make for the door only to be stopped by rough hands gripping my upper arms. I freeze, my panic instantaneous.

  I brace for violation. All the horrors Luther bestowed upon me lay out like a smorgasbord as I wait for Luca to make his choice.

  “I’m fine. I just moved too quick.” He releases me and fumbles forward to the bed, allowing me to breathe again.

  I don’t budge as he slumps onto the mattress, his head hanging, the wisps of his blood-matted hair falling to shroud his eyes.

  Bile coats the back of my throat, the nausea coming thick and fast. I didn’t realize how much faith I had in him until those hands gripped me tightly. There wasn’t trust, but there must’ve been something else. Something to make me completely blindsided by his aggressive touch.

  “I scared you.” He massages the uninjured side of his head. “Fuck… I shouldn’t have grabbed you.”

  I remain immobile while I pull myself together.

  “Go check on the kid,” he mutters. “I’ll be out of here in a minute.”

  I should take his advice. I need distance to think.

  It’s his pain and the looming threat of losing the only person I may be able to rely on that makes me stay.

  “You need to see a doctor,” I murmur.

  “I’ll bounce back in a minute.”

  I don’t believe him. Now I’m paying attention I can see his discomfort increase whenever he moves or speaks. It’s only slight, yet always there, following everything he does.

  He raises his head, looking up at me through thick lashes. Those eyes are dark, their depth punishing. But it’s his dilated pupils that cause me concern.

  I suck in a breath. “You’ve got a concussion.”

  “Yeah.” He shrugs. “I’ve had worse.”

  The instinct to take him at his word is strong. I want to have faith in him. And I itch to reject the slight glimmer of trust at the same time.

  “If you’re not going to see a doctor, you should at least clean your wound.”

  “No. I’m—”

  “A stubborn man who doesn’t want to destroy his tough-guy status after surviving a bullet to the skull?”

  He huffs out a chuckle. “My tough-guy status is the last thing I’m worried about.” He speaks in a lazy drawl, yet the pointedness in his gaze insinuates I’m the focus of his current concern. That I’m all he’s worried about. “Besides, I can’t get a proper look at the side of my head. I don’t even know what I’m up against.”

  Is he fishing for connection? For trust?

  I suck my lower lip between my teeth, staring at him, trying to see the deception I’m sure he must have hidden. Men don’t help women. They use. Hurt. Abuse.

  Goddammit.

  Why can’t my life be easy for once? I don’t want to keep questioning everything. Everyone. I just want nothingness.

  No thoughts. No fear. No pain.

  No struggle to get my sisters to safety.

  “I can take a look. If that’s what you want.” I shuffle forward, tempting fate, testing this flimsy layer of protection he’s shrouded me in. If this is all an act I’d prefer to know now, not later. Not once I’ve lost myself too far down the torturous path of trust.

  He raises his chin, blinking up at me. Silent. Contemplative.

  My heart flutters under his attention, my insides quavering. I’m scared, my fear tightly bottled. It’s more than that, too. I tremble for reasons unknown.

  The closer I get, the harder it is to think through the tormented sea swirling inside me. He’s a trap. The temptation of his help lays in wait beneath the steel claws of his intentions.

  I reach out, my approach tentative.

  “Take care of the kid first.” He tilts his head away. “He’s waiting on you to run the bath.”

  I’m confused by his r
ejection, my arm hovering in the space between us, my fingers an inch from his hair.

  “Go on. Look after Toby.” He pushes from the bed, his hulking frame dwarfing me. “I’ll find him a shirt to wear.”

  I retreat with uncertainty.

  At least I understood the threat from Luther. I knew him so well I could anticipate his next move.

  Luca is different. I can’t foresee anything with him. Not his words or his actions. I can’t even understand his claim to want to help me.

  I backtrack, turning away from him to walk through the robe, then into the bathroom where Tobias is naked and standing in wait.

  I ignore my confusion as I stalk to the bath and turn on the taps, making the water gush like a waterfall.

  “Is he a nice man?” Tobias walks to my side. “Because I thought he was, then Dad said he wasn’t. Now I don’t know what to think because he still seems nice.”

  I kneel before the bath and swirl the water, buying myself time to answer.

  I don’t know what to say.

  My heart wants to trust the man who protected us with vicious determination. It’s my head that reminds me I’ve fallen victim to the lies of a predator once before.

  “He seems genuine.” I continue mixing the water. “Don’t you think?”

  He shrugs and steps into the bath. “I want to like him. But I heard some of the things he said to Dad before he…” There’s another shrug, his sorrow building behind those innocent eyes.

  I hate that he’s hurting. And I detest that a monster’s murder is the cause of his pain.

  “Sweetheart, I know it’s hard to think about your dad being gone. He was your family. But we’re going to get through this. I’ll make sure of it.”

  He sits in the building water and pulls his bended legs to his chest. “He hurt you.”

  I stiffen, unsure how to react. He’s never mentioned the reality of my situation before. Not once.

  “He hurt you, and Chloe, and the others all the time.”

  “Yes, he did,” I whisper.

  “Why?” His brows knit. “Why did he do that?”

  Grief hits me. Grief at the life stolen from me, at the years I lost, at the scars I know will never heal, and how this little boy witnessed it all.

  “Your father was…” My throat tightens.