Saving Her: A Dark Mafia Duet

by Eden Summers

I should be scared. I’ve seen that look before. I’ve had it bear down on me from men who left scars that will never heal. But the fear doesn’t breach the betrayal spurring my pulse harder. What Hunter could do to me is nothing in comparison to what Luca has already done.

  That pain is far greater. Ten times deeper.

  “I’m sorry.” I shift into drive and press my foot down, screeching the tires as the car propels forward.

  I ignore the thunder of Hunter’s fist against the side of the car. I push back the internal voice telling me to stop. I drown out the fear of the outside world that barrels down on me and drive, and drive, and drive, passing unfamiliar streets and houses.

  Each mile spurs my pulse higher, makes my thoughts more punishing.

  I need to get out of here.

  Out of Portland.

  Out of Oregon.

  All I need now is money… and I know just how to get it.

  13

  Luca

  “Do you use the dating app often?” The blonde seated before me leans forward, her tits plumped, her ruby lips set in a coy curve.

  “No. Never.” I look away, focusing on anything but her cleavage as the waitress places our drinks on the table—mine a beer, hers some colorful cocktail covered in fruit.

  “You’re not much of a talker, are you?” Her knee brushes mine under the table. Once. Twice.

  I don’t enjoy the connection.

  “Not usually.” I swipe at my beer and throw back a gulp. “Small talk isn’t my thing.”

  “We don’t have to talk. Why don’t we skip dinner and get out of here?”

  I take another mouthful. Continue to avert my gaze.

  I should be jumping at the chance to get laid. That’s why I’m here. I can’t keep walking around the house drowning in lust, my dick constantly at attention.

  Penny worked her way so far under my skin I can’t catch a fucking breath through my need to have her.

  Banging out the obsession with another woman is the only option. Yet, here I am, sitting before a sure thing, stalling for reasons unknown.

  “Okay. I guess we’re staying.” The woman sips from her straw. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

  “You first.” I hate this. Not just the small talk—the fucking pathetic hesitation.

  I should take this woman to the restrooms. Fuck Penny from my system in a filthy bathroom stall. Then get home.

  I should.

  I just can’t bring myself to do it. Not yet. I need to wait until the hum of liquor dulls the doubt.

  “Tell me where you work.” I throw back another gulp and force myself to meet her gaze. “What do you do for a living, Rebecca?”

  “Rachel,” she corrects.

  Shit.

  I’m screwing this up. She’ll cut and run soon, and I’ll be left to head home and jerk off in the shower every five fucking minutes just to dull the edge while my obsession sleeps in a nearby room.

  “Sorry.” I raise my beer and glance over my shoulder, wordlessly letting the waitress know I need another drink. “Tell me, Rachel. What do you do for work?”

  She’s a stunner. Light blue eyes. Short, pixie hair. Blinding smile.

  She’s bright and chipper. The opposite of my current obsession, which is why I swiped right. There can’t be anything to remind me of where I want to be.

  “There’s nothing super exciting to tell.” She sits taller, her knee continuing to rub mine. “I’m a medical receptionist at a clinic a few blocks from here. It isn’t a career as such, but it pays the bills. What about you?”

  I think about the possible answers I could give. All the crime and destruction. The blood and death. It’s a temporary distraction for two point five seconds before my mind scampers back to Penny.

  I never should’ve left her. Not when we hadn’t discussed the situation first. She could be scared without me. Fucking petrified. But I’d been desperate. Thoughts of that kiss lash brutal blows at my restraint. I’ve been beside myself. Itching to get out of my own skin, all because of my need to have her.

  “You look like a security guard.” The woman fills the silence. “I can see the outline of your muscles through your shirt.”

  Christ.

  I can’t even deal with the flirtation. How the hell will I react to her naked?

  This was meant to be a hookup. A quick fuck. But I’m the one who couldn’t bring myself to meet at a hotel, instead suggesting a dinner date. As if being with someone behind Penny’s back was more excusable if I bought the woman a meal first.

  Still feels like cheating.

  How can it not when she’s been everything to me for weeks?

  I want her. I’m obsessed with her.

  But that ship is never going to sail.

  Never. Going to. Sail.

  I need to remember that. Fucking tattoo it on my wrist.

  I snatch at the beer the waitress places before me and knock it back in one long pull before slamming it down. “Let’s get out of here?”

  The blonde’s face lights up. “Perfect.”

  I stand, grab my wallet from my jacket pocket, and throw a few bills to the table. Once I get my rocks off I’ll be fine. A new fucking man.

  The isolation has been killing me. Messing with my head. I’d be bat shit over any woman I’d been trapped with for that long. Anyone would.

  And lord knows it doesn’t help that Penny is so easy to be around. Or that she’s admirably strong. Or so fucking gorgeous.

  Being stuck in that house was a ticking time bomb, the impending explosion even more catastrophic after Decker returned home.

  Nothing good could come from succumbing to my libido.

  Penny doesn’t need the confusion. And I don’t need to be riddled with bullets by her brother.

  Fucking Rebecca is a win–win.

  It just feels like a loss, that’s all.

  I trudge from the bar and head for my car parked out the front. The tap of heels behind me is far from a turn-on. Doesn’t matter though. I’m still haunted by the residual hard-on I’ve been carrying for weeks.

  There ain’t nothin’ going to break my cock’s enthusiasm.

  “Slow down, honey,” the woman purrs. “I can’t walk that fast.”

  I pause a few feet from my vehicle as my cell vibrates from my jacket pocket like a sign to abort this mission. I pull out the device and stare at Hunt’s name on the screen.

  I shouldn’t answer. He’s the type to call just for the sake of interrupting a fuck session. I wouldn’t be surprised if his sole purpose was to laugh at my expense.

  But Penny…

  If something is wrong I can’t ignore it.

  “I need to take this.” I glance at my soon-to-be bed buddy and take a few steps away. “I won’t be long.”

  “Sure thing.”

  I connect the call, turning my back to her as I bark, “What?”

  “We’ve got a problem,” Hunt mutters. “A big one.”

  I keep walking, making sure I’m out of hearing distance. “What sort of problem?”

  “Your bitch stole my Chevy.”

  “Very funny.” I remotely unlock my car, letting the woman climb in. “What do you want, Hunt?”

  “I’m serious. She snatched my keys from the kitchen counter and took off in my fucking car. I don’t know where she is.”

  I hold my breath, waiting for the punchline. There’s gotta be a fucking punchline, because if there isn’t—

  “Luca?” he snaps. “Are you listening to me?”

  “You better be fucking joking.” I clench my cell. “Either way, I’m going to kick your ass for—”

  “I’m not goddamn joking, you stupid son of a bitch. She lost her shit and took off. You need to get back here. Now.”

  The line disconnects; my mental function, too.

  It takes seconds for me to snap out of the shock, then I’m running for my car, skirting the hood to fling open the driver’s door.

  “You need to get out.” I slide int
o my seat and start the ignition. “Now.”

  “Excuse me?” The blonde stares at me, unmoving. “What’s going on?”

  “You need to get the fuck out of my car,” I snarl. “Now.”

  She balks, her face growing pale as I rev the engine.

  “Now,” I roar.

  She scrambles, frantically unfastening her belt to climb out and slam the door shut. “You’re a dick.” She speaks into the closed passenger window. “I hope you—”

  I shift into gear, pulling the fuck out of there.

  Buildings and traffic blur as I drive.

  I cut corners, overtake on busy streets, and swerve in and out of traffic. I don’t dare to think about what could be happening to Penny until I speed into my driveway, slam on the brakes and launch from the car.

  “What the fuck?” I storm toward Hunter and Sarah on the front lawn, the moon’s glow illuminating Sarah’s concern and Hunt’s livid anger. “What did you do?”

  “I didn’t do shit. She was fine.” He squares his shoulders as I approach. “One minute she’s in her room, the next the fucking klepto is stealing my keys.”

  “Who else have you called? Which way did she go? Have you checked your car’s GPS?” I bark questions at him, my palms sweating.

  He raises a brow, his look condescending. “You think I’d have any sort of tracking device on my Chevy with the shit I do on the daily?”

  “Fuck.” I pace. “Then what have you done? Who have you spoken to?”

  “I rang Deck. He’s freaked. Torian said he’d make some calls. Both are on their way here so you should probably hide. Her brother is going to kill you.”

  “Me?” I glare. “I looked after her flawlessly for weeks. Then she spent two seconds with you and decided to run.”

  “It wasn’t us she was running from.” Sarah speaks up. “It was you.”

  “What the fuck does that mean? What the hell did I do?”

  “Who gives a shit?” Hunter asks. “She took my car. My ninety fucking thousand-dollar car.”

  I stop pacing and lunge for him, grabbing the front of his shirt. “She’s missing, and all you care about is your fucking car?”

  He bares his teeth, his eyes narrowed. “That car is fully customed, asshole.”

  “Your face is going to be fully customed soon, motherfucker.” I shove at his chest and back away before I kill him. “Which way did she go?”

  “Why don’t you give her a few minutes?” Sarah follows after me. “She might calm down and come home on her own.”

  “Calm down from what?”

  She cringes. “She was asking questions about where you were. Hunter told her the truth.”

  “The truth?” After weeks with minimal headaches, my brain pounds with an energetic migraine. “What did he tell her?”

  “That you went out to get laid.”

  Her answer hits me like a sucker punch.

  Penny knows. She knows, and she ran.

  “Forgive me for not being aware it was a huge fucking secret.” Hunter gives me the bird. “A little insight would’ve gone a long way.”

  I’m going to kill him. Slowly. Painfully.

  “Decker’s here.” Sarah jerks her chin toward the road as a car pulls into the curb.

  In seconds, Penny’s brother is running toward us. “Where is she?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m going to start searching.” I make for the driveway, unwilling to stand here with my dick in my hand. “Don’t go anywhere.” I shove a finger in Hunter’s direction. “Call me as soon as you hear anything.”

  “How come I get stuck here?”

  “Because you’ve got no fucking ride, you piece of shit.”

  I climb into my car, gun the engine, and start circling blocks. One after another, after another.

  Apart from making the decision to run, Penny’s a smart woman. She wouldn’t have gone far. I’m pinning my hopes on her remaining close to familiar territory.

  But the more blocks I circle, the more I panic.

  She could be anywhere. Without a phone. Without money. Without a fucking safe haven.

  “Fuck.” I smash my palms against the wheel. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

  This is my fault.

  If I hadn’t let her kiss me… If I’d been able to keep my fucking dick in line…

  “Where the hell are you, Penny?”

  I drive faster, scanning darkened sidewalks and house yards.

  If something happens to her I’ll never forgive myself.

  Never. Fucking. Forgive.

  My phone rings. This time, it’s Decker.

  “What?” I answer.

  “I just got a call from Torian. He thinks he found her.”

  “Where? Is she okay?”

  “I don’t know. Just get back to the house. He said he’d meet us here.”

  14

  Penny

  I’m lost.

  I don’t know what side of the city I’m on. I have no clue which direction leads home.

  Home.

  God.

  That’s not what Luca’s house is. Not anymore. Not when visions of what he’s currently doing assault my mind with every blink.

  I should never have relied on him in the first place.

  Now I’ve lost Abi and Chloe. Tobias is no longer in my care. And my protector is gone, choosing to share his body with a stranger.

  I’m stupid not to have figured it out earlier. I’d been floating in a dream-like state as we’d kissed, my lips gently pressed to his, while he drew back in revulsion.

  He couldn’t get away fast enough.

  I pull over and shift the car into park on a quiet industrial road, barely able to see through the blur in my vision.

  I’m not going to cry again. Those days of tears didn’t help anyway.

  Grief still weighs me down. My past hasn’t changed.

  But the pain from Luca intensifies.

  I’d wanted him to like me. I’d carelessly thought he had. That his protection was more than a job. That he wasn’t like the other men who were only interested in sex.

  Boy, was I wrong.

  “Goddammit.” I pound my fist against my thigh and scream. The piercing sound fills my ears. My head. I keep belting my heart out until there’s no voice left to give. Until my lungs are dry and my throat is hoarse.

  Then I slump into the leather seat, and become illuminated by the bright lights of a car pulling up behind me.

  Shit.

  They found me. Already. I haven’t even successfully left the city, let alone the state.

  Seems I can’t do anything right.

  I sit up straight, tilt away the rear-view mirror and its blinding reflection, and wait for retaliation. In my peripheral vision, I see a figure approaching the side of the car. A masculine frame that’s big and bulky.

  I square my shoulders against the threat. I won’t let him daunt me. If I want to see Tobias again, I need to get over my outburst and become smarter than the unpredictable person I’ve been.

  When a shadow creeps over the side of my face I drag in a breath and wait for Hunter’s demand to get out of his car. Or a growled order from Luca.

  I don’t get either.

  There’s only an ominous tap, tap, tap against the glass.

  If they expect me to apologize they’ve got another thing coming. I don’t care if I stole a car.

  I jerk my head toward the window, glaring, only to be met with shadowed eyes staring back at me from beneath a thick ski mask. The tap, tap, tap repeats, the noise coming from the barrel of a gun against the glass.

  Oh, God.

  All the air escapes my lungs on a heave.

  Everything stops.

  Time.

  Movement.

  My heart.

  I plant my foot on the accelerator, the car roaring to life without movement.

  Oh, shit.

  I fight to put the gearstick in drive as a mighty boom thunders beside me. A circle of splintered glass appears on my window,
the integrity still intact.

  Holy fuck. He’s shooting at me. At bulletproof glass.

  I shove the gearstick into place and slam my foot harder, my hands shaking as the wheels spin. I escape in what feels like slow motion, the tink, tink, tinks of sound against the car frame continuous until the back of the vehicle jostles, a tire seeming to take a bullet.

  “Please, please, please let me get out of here.”

  I keep my head low and speed through the night. I turn left. Turn right. Turn left. I become more lost in the labyrinth of streets until I finally reach a busy road and get stuck in traffic, heading God knows where, fleeing God knows who.

  I wind down my window, unable to see through the bullet impacts, and hyperventilate.

  I never should’ve left the house.

  I never should’ve left Luca. Now all I can think about is returning to him, to his protection, but I don’t know how.

  I have no phone. And the arduous jostle from the back of the vehicle is getting worse.

  If I pull over the shooter could find me. If I don’t stop I have no clue what will happen to the car.

  A siren squeals behind me. Blue and red illuminate the interior. The police.

  For a second, there’s relief. Sweet, overwhelming relief.

  Then reality hits like a nightmare.

  I don’t have a license or identification. As far as the authorities are concerned, I’m dead. A ghost. And I want to stay that way.

  “Oh, my goddamn shit, please help me get out of this.” My pulse pounds everywhere—throat, wrists, temples. I break out in a cold sweat, my fear of yet another imprisonment making it impossible to breathe.

  I don’t want to go back to a cage. I can’t attempt a high-speed escape, either. Not on three functioning tires. I wouldn’t even know how with four solid treads and a record-breaking sports car.

  I reluctantly pull over, the police car mimicking my movements, a male officer lazily climbing from his vehicle.

  I can imagine what he’s seeing—the flat tire, the dents left from bullets.

  “Evenin’, ma’am.” He stops next to my window, one hand calmly resting at his side, the other placed on his holster. “Do you know why I pulled you over?”

  I squint against the brightness of his flashlight, unable to speak.