by Lexi Cross
He could slit his throat and watch his blood pour from the wound until he was pale and lifeless. He could smash his skull, making him feel every blow until he felt nothing ever again. He could point his gun at his forehead and make him beg. That idea in particular was appealing. Make him pay for what he’d done to them with his pride. It didn’t really matter how Matteo died. Only that he did. Ryder had never wanted to kill someone so badly in all his life.
He grabbed his phone and dialed Pia’s number. At this point, what did it matter? Everyone knew what they’d been trying to hide. Ryder was already on his way to save her and kill her father. But he wanted to know if she was okay. He wanted to tell her he was coming so she could be ready and waiting. But most of all, he wanted to hear her voice.
That sweet lilt, that prissy tone. He wanted to see her cock her head and put her hand on her hip in some display of dramatic outrage. He wanted to feel her tiny body in his arms and her fingers running through his hair. The first chance he got, he was going to throw her down and take her. He needed to feel her tight body wrapped around his.
The phone rang and rang. Her voice mail came on. “You’ve reached Pia, you lucky thing. Leave a message, and if I feel like it, I’ll call you back.” She ended her recording with a kissing sound. He called back just to listen to her voice mail greeting one more time.
He called her other phone, the disposable one that might still be secret. She didn’t answer that one either, and this one didn’t have a voice recording.
He threw his phone back down. He hadn’t really expected her to answer, but he’d been hoping for it. His heart, stomach, and mind needed to know that she was okay. Or that she was alive at least. Once he knew that, he could breathe again. Until then, he was existing in the space between knowing and not knowing, where only anxiety lived.
***
“Wake up.”
Pia stirred at the sound of her father’s voice. He shook her shoulder roughly, making her head jump and flop until she sat up.
“Stop it,” she said groggily. “I’m awake.”
“Get up. The doctor’s here.”
“The what?” She rubbed her eyes. Her mouth was sticky and tasted disgusting. She needed water and to brush her teeth. She needed a shower, too. She felt dirty all over. And now she was starving, not having eaten all day.
“The doctor is here to see you.”
“I’m fine,” she said, pushing the covers back and kicking her feet over the side. “I don’t need a doctor.”
Her father reached out and yanked her to her feet. He shoved her forward, toward an older man standing there, watching with a stern look on his face. She’d never seen this man before. He wasn’t dressed like a doctor. No long white coat or anything. He wore jeans and a button-down shirt and didn’t look professional at all aside from the briefcase at his side.
“He’s here to take care of your…situation.”
“My what?” Her voice came out as a squeak.
“Just get this over with, Pia. Then maybe I’ll be able to stand to look at you again.” Her father turned from her and shut the door hard behind him, leaving her alone with the doctor.
“I feel okay,” Pia said. “I don’t know why he called you. It’s just morning sickness. No big deal.”
The doctor set his leather briefcase on her dresser and opened it, then took out a small pill bottle. He pushed and turned to remove the lid, then poured out two round yellow pills. He put the bottle back, and stretched out his hand to her, presenting the pills to her as a gift.
“What are those?” she asked.
“This is what I came for. They will make you feel better.”
She took a step back. Something about this did not feel right. “I feel fine.”
“You’ll feel even better after you take them.”
She shook her head. “No, thanks.”
The doctor gave her a frustrated look. “Your father sent me to you to take care of this. And I fully intend to.”
“Take care of this?” She put her hand instinctively to her belly. “What are those pills?”
“They will remedy your situation.”
“Why does everyone keep saying that? You mean they’ll kill my baby, is that it?”
“Yes.”
“No.” She backed farther away. “I’m not going to do that.”
“You don’t have a choice.”
“You’re a doctor! You can’t force me to do this. I don’t want to kill my baby. Didn’t you take an oath to only help people?”
He glared at her and his lip twitched up in a snarl. “That doesn’t apply when a mob boss asks you for a favor. And I’d rather not have to answer to him and tell him why I was unable to do it. Now take the pills.”
“I won’t! You can’t make me.”
“Now, that’s where you’re wrong.”
She watched in horror as he opened the briefcase again. He set the pills carefully beside it on the dresser. Then he took out a syringe and a glass bottle. He filled the syringe with the liquid and closed the briefcase.
Pia backed up to the door. She turned the knob, intending to run as fast and as far as she could before they caught her and brought her back. But the knob wouldn’t turn. She faced the door and used both hands. It wouldn’t budge.
She banged on the door, tears now streaming down her face. “Let me out!” She screamed at the camera, “You can’t do this to me!”
“Pia.” The doctor stood calmly across her room, holding the syringe in one hand and the pills in the other. “You can make this much easier on yourself if you just take the pills. I don’t want to have to force you.”
“Then don’t.” She forced herself to calm and made her voice softer, trying to be persuasive. “I know you may think my father is powerful, but he’s just a man. Do you really want to live the rest of your life with murder on your hands? Knowing that you forced an innocent girl to kill a baby she dearly loved and wanted more than anything? Do you really want to face the guilt from that?”
“It’s nothing I haven’t done before,” he said coldly.
She was sickened at his words and careless tone and expression. She had to think quickly. There had to be a way to convince him. She walked closer to him and dropped her voice to just above a whisper. “Look.” She glanced toward the camera in the wall and turned so that they couldn’t read her lips. “We can pretend like I took the pills. My father won’t blame you. You’ll get paid and whatever. He’ll think it’s done and that’ll be that. When nothing happens, I’ll just say the pills didn’t work. Or I’ll tell him I spit them out or something. Just don’t make me do this. My father is mean and crazy. He’s trying to marry me off to some mob guy I don’t even know. Help me. Please.”
They looked at each other for a long time. This had to work. Had to. If she couldn’t convince him, it was all over. He’d overpower her easily. She wasn’t that strong and she was weak from throwing up and not eating. They hadn’t brought her food today yet. Were they now trying to make her weak? Was this just part of her father’s game? Starve her and torture her into doing what he wanted? When she had the thought, her chest went cold. That was probably exactly what he was doing.
How long had it been since she ate? A day? More? She cursed herself for skipping meals when she had had the chance to eat. Who knew when she would be fed again? Maybe they’d just let her starve to death. Maybe he thought it would kill the baby. And it likely would do something awful to it. It couldn’t be a good thing, right? Growing babies needed nutrition. They were both in trouble if she didn’t eat something soon.
But that was the least of her worries in this moment. If he made her take those pills, it wouldn’t matter what she ate or didn’t eat. The baby would be gone. Her throat burned and went thick. She couldn’t let that happen.
She almost laughed at the idea that she’d considered even for a moment that she could give up the baby and marry Paolo. The second her baby was in danger, it was clear that she would never be able to do that.
There was so much love in her for this baby and its father, and it ignited the motherly instincts she didn’t even know she had. Forget the money. There was no way that would be an option because giving up her baby was not an option.
The only thing now was to survive. She would not go down without a fight. She may not have much, but she would give it all she had. Would do anything she could to protect her baby. She’d die trying if she had to.
The doctor held up the syringe and took a step toward her.
Chapter 19
Ryder turned into Matteo’s neighborhood. His stomach still wouldn’t settle. The fear, the anxiety, the anger, all warred within him. Good thing he hadn’t eaten much. He already wasted too many pain pills by puking them back up. He parked his car several streets away and popped a few more pills before getting out.
He pulled out his guns and climbed up the hill to his spot. This hill, he knew well. On many occasions, he perched up here, waiting to kill someone that Matteo had coming to the house. It was easier in some situations to do it that way. Invite them over for a meeting or to make a deal or whatever, then Ryder would pick them off from his hidden spot before they even reached the house.
That’s why Ryder was shocked to find no one on the hill when he reached the top. Was Matteo that big of an idiot? Or did he just underestimate Ryder that much? He didn’t stop to consider how easy it would be for Ryder to sit up here and take them all out one by one? After all the training Matteo paid for Ryder to get, after all the years of practice and being in awe of Ryder’s impeccable record. He didn’t think that maybe Ryder would use that against him? Or maybe he was just that cocky to think they’d be able to outsmart him or avoid being killed by him.
Ryder positioned himself at the top of the hill, lying on his stomach to take aim. From here, he could see the whole house, in all of its huge splendor. The grounds stretching out around it, the stables off to the side. He watched for a long time, hoping that Pia would come out just so he could see her. He thought he knew which windows were her bedroom, but wasn’t sure. Curtains covered most of the windows on the upper floor and from this distance, he couldn’t make out the differences in the fabric to be able to pick out her pink-flowered ones.
He forced his gaze from where he thought Pia’s room was and put his mind into hitman mode. He assessed the people he saw. Two guards at the back of the house and two at the front, all pacing to cover the grounds all around the house. He watched them for several minutes, until he felt sure he knew their paths.
He’d have to act fast. Once he shot the guards, everyone would be on alert. Then it was a matter of getting down the hill and over the fence so he could storm the mansion. Then straight to Pia. He could have her in his arms in minutes. His heart raced at the thought.
But his stomach tightened. What condition would he find her in? What if she wasn’t okay? What if she wasn’t alive? He’d take out everyone in the house if she was dead. Even the staff. He would be ruthless. No one would survive and live to tell the tale. He’d make sure anyone and everyone associated with Matteo paid for that association with their lives.
Even if she was alive, he’d still kill most of them. Maybe not the staff, though. They were innocent, after all. But Matteo’s guys would all be gone today. How sweet it would be if Solano were here already. Ryder pictured himself charging in, interrupting the wedding ceremony to kill Solano and Matteo, then scooping Pia into his arms. Hell, maybe he’d even have the preacher marry them if he would. Do it right then and there. Why not?
It was a great idea, but he had work to do first. A lot of blood had to be spilled before he could get to Pia. A lot more would have to spilled before they were safe. But there was no doubt about it. Ryder was going in there and coming out with all that was his. His woman and his child. And no one was going to stop him. Let them try. They’d face his gun if they did. He had no reason to hold back.
He decided on his kill order. If he waited until the farthest back guard was making his way toward the center of the house, killing him wouldn’t alert the front guards. And as long as he did it before the other back guard turned to begin pacing back, it wouldn’t alert him immediately, either.
He’d kill the farthest back guard, then the closest back guard. From there, it wouldn’t matter much which front guard he killed first. Either of them were too close to the house and someone inside would know when they were shot. They’d hear it and see them fall. But Ryder could kill all four of them in seconds if they didn’t start running. If they did, it might take a few minutes instead. Aiming was harder when you had a moving target, but unless they were skilled at outrunning a sniper, he would still get his shot in.
He took careful aim and waited, watching the guard through his rifle’s scope. When he had the perfect shot, aimed right over his head, he squeezed the trigger and saw the man fall. He quickly moved down to the next guard. He hadn’t seen anything. Before he could turn and see that his fellow guard was on the ground, he was also on the ground.
Ryder shifted his aim to the front guards now. They were conversing together. Maybe they’d heard the shots and were talking about it, decided who should go where to look. But they’d messed up. In the ten seconds they spent talking, they’d moved close together. Ryder almost laughed at how easy they’d made it for him.
He shot one of the front guards in the head, moved his aim ever so slightly, and shot the second before he even had time to realize what had happened and to react. All four of them were shot and dead in under thirty seconds. Ryder glanced at the bodies at the back of the house to make sure neither was moving. He’d never missed a killing shot before, but now was not the time to overestimate his own skill. But none of the four bodies were moving, so it looked like his perfect record held.
He could sit there longer and wait. Someone would come out of the house to see what was going on. Someone would try to get them medical attention, or at least check to see that they were dead. And eventually, someone would dispose of the bodies. He could take people out one by one as they left the house.
But now that his guards were dead, Matteo would know that Ryder was here. He would eventually remember the hill where he was now perched, and he might send someone to take him out. It was too risky to wait. And Ryder didn’t have the patience anyway. Every thought of Pia made his gut wrench in fear. He had to get to her and know she was okay. He had to get her out of here. There would be no waiting.
He got to his feet, slung his rifle over his shoulder from its strap, and looked around. When he saw no one, he took off, running fast down the hill. He reached the fence, tall and wooden, and leapt. He jumped just high enough for his fingers to close over the top, then he pulled himself up and over, landing hard on his feet on the ground.
He sprinted toward the house and toward Pia.
***
The doctor moved closer to Pia, the syringe in his hand like a knife, ready to stab her. She looked at the shining metal tip and all she could think was that if that got near her, it was done. Her baby was gone. It was over.
If she couldn’t convince him, her plan now was to delay and find a way to overtake him. She wasn’t stronger than him, but maybe she was smart enough, or fast enough, or wanted this baby enough, that she could find a way to sneak by or trick him. Was there any way she could get the syringe from him and stab him with it? Then maybe she could escape. They’d have to open the door to get the doctor out, right?
She stepped forward toward him, and that seemed to surprise him. His face changed and grew wary.
“Are you really going to drug me and force those pills down my throat while I’m unconscious?” she asked.
“You’ve given me no choice.”
“How much is my father paying you?”
“It’s not about the money.”
She put her hand on her hip. “It’s always about the money.”
“No. He’s doing me a favor.”
“And what’s that?”
“I’m not going to say.” His face was
straight and he gave away no emotion.
“Is he going to kill someone for you?”
The doctor pulled together his eyebrows. “No.”
“Take care of someone in some other way, like have them beat up? Or is this more like you need something erased? Maybe a mistake on your doctor’s record or something?”
He shook his head. “I’m not going to say.”
“Well, you should know that my father lies. All the time. Whatever he said he’s going to do, he won’t. I hope you got at least half of your payment upfront, because he’s not going to pay you. Once it’s done, why should he? Once it’s done, it’s not like you can take it back or go to the police, right? No. He lied to you, got you to come and do this, and he’s going to give you nothing for it.”
