Long hair whips around her hunched shoulders as she shakes her head. “You don’t understand. I have obligations. I promised my father I’d make this marriage work, and I refuse to let him down. I can’t walk away regardless of what happens. My own feelings don’t matter.”
Rage boils in my veins from her erroneous proclamation, and I bury my instinct to scream at the absurdity of her sacrifice. I cup her chin and force her to look at me. “No one —and I mean fucking no one —matters more than you.”
She doesn’t answer. She doesn’t have to. It’s obvious she doesn’t agree. God damn it.
Hiding in the basement and sitting on her recovery bed isn’t how I wanted to tell her. But she needs to know the truth to help me get her out of here. Battling Arturo will be difficult enough. I can’t fight her too. “I know about the agreement. That’s why your dad hired me.”
Her small body jolts with shock, and she twists out of my grip on her sweet face. “My father’s dead. He died when I was twelve.”
She’s angry. Good. I love seeing some fucking fire in her. Even if she’s challenging the wrong enemy. Opposing the wrong war. “I know he did. Right after he promised you to Arturo when you turned eighteen for a debt he owed.”
Outrage heats her face. Blazing red from her neck to her cheeks with indignation. She thinks I’m lying. Fuck. So much to overcome. “It’s not a debt. They created a partnership to strengthen our families.”
“No princess. Bernardo fucked up and owed way more money to Arturo than he could ever repay. So he gave you as his payment instead.”
She jerks her hand from mine. Fucking killing me for her to recoil from my touch. Which I will allow her withdrawal from me for now. While she processes the confession I make to her. In the future, I’ll never let her hide from me. I’ll never let her fear me.
“That’s not true. My father wouldn’t do that.”
Humiliation cracks in her voice, breaking my heart for her. To realize the one person she loved, the one man she trusted, used her. Never earned the faith she so deeply placed within him. Never deserved the sacrifices she makes for him. “He loved you but he was stuck. Otherwise, Arturo would kill him and take you anyway. He thought he had six years to figure something else out. He hired me to protect you if he failed. But he never got the chance either way to save you.”
“Because of his heart attack.”
Hesitant acceptance creeps into her tone. But unlucky me I get to sting her once again with the bitter reality of the situation. “Because Arturo killed him. It wasn’t a heart attack angel. Arturo just made it look that way. He wanted a guarantee so he could get you and the money.”
“What money? You said my father was in debt.”
Confusion swirls in her expression. Probably thinking I’m talking in circles. Too much information to absorb after years of believing an illusion. At least I haven’t broken her completely. Not yet anyway. “Your grandfather created a trust fund–“
An exaggerated cough rattles behind me. Interfering with the rest of the hellish details she’s going to discover. I twist around but don’t stand up. This conversation isn’t finished.
Harrison.
He’s not alone. Three men stand behind him. The trio’s hard expressions boring into me. All of them buzzing with intent, except for Harrison. The closest thing I’ve had to a friend since I’ve been here, he pulses with regret.
“Arturo wants Mrs. Moretti. Now.”
Motherfucker. Where the fuck has that son of a bitch been all this time? Doesn’t give a damn about her all night and now wants her at his beck and call again. “Fine. I’ll bring her.”
“No, I’m supposed to get her.”
My shirt pulls taut against my chest from her fingers fisting the fabric behind me. Terrified because no one’s ever touched her but me. And Arturo.
“Just let me do it. She can’t even fucking walk.”
Arturo’s callous laugh sounds from the hallway, and his meat head whipping boys part like a fucking curtain for him to step forward.
“She doesn’t have to walk. She just has to lay back and spread her legs for me like always.”
The crude remark earns a sob from her and chuckles from his other men. Well, now we’re at god damn fucking impasse because I’ll fucking die before he touches her. Let alone fucks her.
He smirks although a wrought tension pulsates underneath his expression. Neither of us willing to halt the showdown I somehow always knew would happen. Rising slowly from the mattress, I smile too. A pretense of conciliatory attitude as I chin lift him. Bestowing the deference he demands yet doesn’t anticipate. Zero fear darkens his face. No need to be afraid when his armed men surround him.
I’m not fool enough to think I can take them all, but I am crazy enough to cause as much damage as I can before this ends. “I think Mrs. Wilson is preparing her breakfast. Can’t you at least let Viviana eat first?”
My request stuns him, his head jerking back in surprise. Not at all what he was expecting me to say. Feels like a lifetime passes while he studies me. Trying to figure out if I’m playing some kind of game, or I’m just that fucking stupid. Finally he laughs. A snicker at first before the chortle turns into a full on obnoxious cackle. That’s right, fat bastard, enjoy yourself while you can.
His head tips back in repugnant amusement, and the millisecond his eyes drift shut, I bolt. Slamming the door shut and swiping the lock. I’ll only get about ten seconds before they’ll bust through the heavy wood, but that’s plenty of time to kill his sorry ass. Everything fades around me, and I’m coursing with adrenaline. All I hear is my own erratic breathing. All I see is his stupid ugly face. All I feel is relief he’ll never hurt her again.
Frozen with disbelief, he doesn’t move. Just watches me fly toward him. Never expecting to have to defend himself when his paid goons are supposed to protect him at all costs. A single punch to the jaw crumples the dumb ass to the floor. Viviana’s scream echoes from somewhere nearby but I keep racing like a fucking mad man.
Now the force of my boot punishes him. I stomp down on his dick, grinding side to side as his cock shoves into his rotund belly, and his scream of pure anguish is the best fucking sound I’ve ever fucking heard. Only one millionth of the agony he’s caused her but still absolutely glorious in his suffering. His own adrenaline kicks in, and somehow he manages to roll onto his side under the weight of my foot, protecting his already mutilated body.
I drop down next to him and shove my hands around his flapping jowls. “Enjoy hell motherfucker.”
Not sure if he’s even conscious when I twist his neck and snap his spine. Finally dead. But I don’t take time to celebrate his passing. I hop up and jet over to her just as the crack of the ripping hinges shrieks behind us. Tangled in the bedspread, she’s balled into herself, sobbing so hard I can’t comprehend her words. “Come on princess. It’s time to go.”
“What the fuck Bartell?”
I ignore Harrison’s furious voice bellowing behind me, bending to scoop her up. But I don’t get the chance to hold her before I’m yanked backward. Pummeling anything at the end of my fists as I’m tackled. Carpet burns my back as my polo rides up from being dragged away. Fingertips rip my skin from the force of their hold. Five or six guys are on me but I can’t stop fighting. Straining and kicking and punching. Not giving a damn about the threats of Dante’s wrath or what he’s going to do to my crazy ass for killing Arturo.
“Roan?”
Her sweet voice sweeps through my consciousness. The last thing I hear before a blinding light explodes inside my head and everything turns to black.
My head throbs as hard as the metal vibrating under my cheek. Cold and rigid against my burning skin. Silence except for the soft hum of an engine. Confirming I’m on the move. To where and with whom I have no fucking clue. Might as well find out now instead of waiting to be unpleasantly informed. Fighting the fog clouding my mind, I force my eyes open. Not waking up but fucking coming to.
Through a
blurry haze, I strain to make sense of my surroundings. Scuffs and dings mar the dingy white walls. The ceiling reflects the same neglect. With groggy, fumbling hands, I shove up to a sitting position. Surprised as hell to be in the old cargo van the guys use to haul shit. Including bodies. Even more shocked I’m not tied up. Harrison occupies the driver’s seat. Not sure if he thinks I’m dead, or he’s getting ready to kill me. Either way I have to know before I die. “Viviana?”
My voice sounds as strained and weak as I feel. Echoing oddly in the otherwise empty space. Or maybe it’s just the wooziness of my brain that makes my words sound like fucking ringing in a huge cave.
His knowing laugh answers me back. What the fuck does he think is so god damn funny about the woman I love?
“I knew that would be the first fucking thing you said when you woke up.”
“Don’t fuck with me. Where–“
“She’s fine. The guys got Mrs. Wilson down there again, and she made them take Mrs. Moretti to the hospital.”
Where she should have been so fucking long ago. Thank fucking god.
“Dante’s on his way back, and he’s already calling the shots from the jet. Including putting a hit out on you.”
Yeah, I thought so. Fuck. I don’t want to hurt Harrison, but I’ll do whatever I have to do to get back to Viviana. Even if he has to be the one to die.
“But I’m not going to kill you.”
Rarely am I shocked any more, but he definitely surprises me this time with a reprieve I don’t expect. He couldn’t take me out anyway unless I was unconscious. We both know that truth. Although my body wanes with the knowledge I don’t have an imminent battle waiting for me. “Why not?”
He glances back at me, long enough for me to see his eye roll and disgusted expression. “You’re welcome.”
Whatever. “Just fucking tell me. Why are you letting me live?”
Like a fucking toddler first learning to walk, I struggle to my feet and stumble hunched over to the passenger seat. Falling rather than sliding onto the cushion. The bodyguard glances my way again, yet this time his face reveals remorse instead of defiance.
“The first time I met Viviana was the same night she met Arturo for the first time —at their wedding rehearsal. You could tell she was fucking terrified. But she always smiled. Stayed glued to his side as he led her around the restaurant and went through all the introductions. When the dinner wound down and people started leaving, Arturo ended up in the bar.” His head shakes tighter than his stubby fingers clenching the steering wheel. “Drinking bourbon, smoking cigars, playing cards. Left her all alone at their table. She waited there for five fucking hours. Never said a damn thing. Just sat with her hands folded in her lap and kept her eyes down.”
My fist balls against my thigh. An involuntary response I can’t control. What a god damn fucking bastard. I fucking hate the thought of her scared and then fucking lonely because that son of a bitch never cared enough about her or her feelings to make sure she was comfortable.
“When he finally came back, he stood there in the doorway like the asshole he is and snapped his fingers at her. Any other woman probably would have flipped him off and hightailed it in the other direction. But not Viviana. She stood up straight and tall like a fucking queen or something and walked over to him. Wrapped her hand around his arm like he was a hero rather than an arrogant s.o.b. Neither of them said a word the entire time I followed them from the dining room to the SUV.”
Pride pounds in my chest despite my fury. That’s my princess. Unwilling to let Arturo degrade her despite how much he tries.
We turn off the highway onto a gravel road. But Harrison’s not slow or cautious. Flying over the rocks and ruts. Bouncing our asses like rubber balls. Deep in thought about the memory he shares. The disgust he feels matching mine.
“I don’t know why she showed up the next day. Guess she didn’t really have any choice. Arturo seemed in a good mood, but still managed to slap the hell out of her in the limo on the way to the reception. I mean who the fuck smacks his wife, let alone on their wedding day. I knew then her life would be hell, but I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.”
God damn motherfucking Moretti. Didn’t even make it to the fucking honeymoon before the torment started. Remorse floods Harrison’s tone. His own guilt eats at him more than anything I could ever say regardless of how much I want to.
“I mean I had my own wife and two kids, with another one on the way. I couldn’t fuck up their lives to help her, even if I could have. That’s why I was glad when you showed up. It seemed like you could save her.”
I know what he implies. What he really asks me. Might as well level with him since we’re being honest. “I’m not a cop.”
“Maybe not. But you’re not just hired muscle like the rest of us either.” The rocky path thins out, dissipating to a few stones blended among the overgrown brush. He doesn’t seem to notice. Just drives through the long grass. Winter dead blades bending easily from the weight of our load. “I don’t know, and I really don’t want to know.”
“Fair enough.”
Finally he slows, rolling to a stop and jerking the gear shift into park. Both of our gazes remain forward, on the wooded acres in front of us. Thick trees crowd the horizon. Populating the landscape as far as we can see on both sides. With only narrow beams of sunlight breaking through the heavy canopy. “Just go. I’ll tell them it’s done, and I buried you out here like regular. If you never come back, no one will ever know the difference.”
If only it was that easy. I don’t need an escape. I need her. “I can’t. I have to get Viviana.”
“Fuck Bartell.” I ignore his reprimand as well as the side of his fist slamming down on the dash board. The calm demeanor instantly replaced with an irritation I can’t fault him for. But he doesn’t love her like I do. “You’re going to get us all killed. You’re going to get yourself fucking killed.”
The words drag out. Clear and precise, without any ambiguity. To ensure I hear. To confirm I understand. But I do. Completely. More than he understands. “It wouldn’t be living without her. Not when she’s with Dante.”
And not with me. I don’t voice that thought to keep from sounding any more like a pussy ass bitch than I already do. His lips curl and bulge out with a huge sigh. He knows just as much as I do how disgusting Arturo’s brother is.
“Fuck.” Regret pounds in his voice. Disappointment lingers between us. Both of us well aware of the reality of our situation. “I can’t help you.”
Although I’m used to working alone, a little assistance from the inside would’ve been nice. Either way his opposition to my goal doesn’t change anything. I’m coming for her no matter what. “I know.”
“But I won’t stand in your way either. If you make it, I’ll do everything I can to get her to you.”
I nod. Saying thanks seems stupid. He’s not really doing anything. Letting me live I guess. But now we both know I have to beat his ass. Make it appear he put up a struggle, and I overpowered him. “Tell them you shot me and I probably didn’t make it far. That I–“
“Yeah, yeah. I know what to do. Just shut the fuck up and get it over with.”
I don’t say sorry either. We both already are. But for some reason it feels right that we each get some physical punishment. Endure a bit of the penance we deserve for not helping her earlier.
Mute as we climb out of the vehicle. Nothing left to say. Harrison stands rod straight and doesn’t flinch when I draw back my fist. Or utter a word after I punch him in the temple. Incapable of speaking when he’s knocked out cold. Unaware I have the capacity to take him down with just one hit. But the blow’s powerful enough to ensure my getaway after I lug his limp body over to the van and shove him in the back. Ironic for him to be laid out just like I was just a few minutes ago.
My own head feels like shit as I start jogging toward the interstate. Nausea crawls up my throat, and I have to slow to a walk like a fucking pansy ass. Fucking concussion. At l
east the weather cooperates. No chance in hell I’ll fall asleep when I’m fucking freezing in just a thin shirt and jeans. The hike will take me hours at this rate. Which is probably for the best. Gives me plenty of time for me to come up with a new plan.
My fingertips drum on the gear shift. Still impatient and edgy after all this time. I’ve staked out the church for thirty-three long ass fucking days.
Waiting.
Watching.
Wondering.
If she’s ever going to come back.
If Dante murdered her.
If the torture I plan for him would ever be enough to exact revenge on her behalf. When I know good and well it wouldn’t.
The only information I’ve gotten from my limited sources is Viviana hasn’t left the house since she came home from the hospital. Which was her opportunity to escape from that life. Flee from her merciless prison as well as her ruthless brother-in-law. Yet somehow, some reason she didn’t. No one appreciates loyalty more than me, but damn I can’t understand why she continues to stay when any obligation, however mistaken her allegiance was, perished along with Arturo.
Unless Dante won’t allow her to leave. Motherfucker probably holds her prisoner just like his fucking brother. Damn it.
The anxiety in my chest explodes into an inferno when a huge SUV pulls up. Not the sleek black BMW x6 I used to drive her in but an enormous, silver Lexus LX. Fucking Dante’s brand of choice. I usually fucking love being right. But not this time. Not when that stupid bastard controls her now. Or fucking thinks he does. If she really is in the back, then she’s mine.
My heart races like I’ve run a fucking marathon. A beast in a suit climbs out. Relaxed and confident, with a quick, haphazard glance around for any threats. Dumb ass doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing. Which would normally piss me off when the asshole is supposed to be guarding my princess. Although his carelessness is fucking perfect this morning. That much easier for me to end him and grab her.
With a leisurely pace, he strides to the back. Not hurrying as if the boss sits inside when he yanks the handle. Rather someone he must take care of. I’m straining in my seat like that would actually make me see her sooner. But I can’t help it. Please fucking god be her.
192: A Dark Mafia Bodyguard Romance Page 4
