“Careful down there.” He laughed, leaping over the counter until I lost sight of him. “It would be a crying shame for you to cut yourself when I just said I wasn’t going to make this more painful than it needed to be.”
He was a liar. I didn’t need to see into those cold eyes to know. The truth was apparent in the fast succession of things I heard break.
He picked up blenders and threw them against walls.
My registers toppled to the floor beside me, smashed to pieces.
The awful screech of a knife being drug against an unyielding surface reached me, and I covered my ears.
But the sound wouldn’t stop.
He wouldn’t stop.
This shop was everything to me. It was my calling. It was a memorial dedicated to the woman who had taught me everything I knew about taking care of myself and other people. It was a dream come true.
Until he turned it into a nightmare.
I tried to catch the sobs ripping out of my throat, but my hands were too small to contain them. My eyes burned and the room became a blur. He came back around to where I could see him, shooting me a satisfied smile when he saw the misery he was causing.
A chair went through the glass windows.
The open sign got broken over his knee.
Even the mural I’d done by hand—the one with another rendition of Mom’s painting and her favorite quote beneath it—wasn’t safe. He strolled to the back and returned with paint I hadn’t had a chance to get rid of.
The first splash of bright red hit the sun directly, covering it and running down towards the rest like drops of blood. I bled right along with it. My heart pumped the crucial substance that kept me going right onto the floor, despite my lack of injury.
“This should really brighten the place up.” He threw paint everywhere. Over every surface he could find. When the red paint ran out, he switched to whatever he could find next. The floor and the walls and me, were all covered in colors that would’ve normally made me think of rainbows, and instead only looked like vomit.
My stomach protested at the sight, trying to give in, and I swallowed the bile that raced up my throat. Gagged on it. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
Chest heaving, he stood in the middle of the floor, surveying his handiwork. “Much better. Don’t you agree, bella?”
I rocked back and forth, saying nothing. Pinching the skin on my arm as hard as I possibly could. Waiting to wake up from this nightmare.
“Hey,” he barked suddenly, startling me into looking at him. “I asked you a question. Don’t ignore me when I’m talking to you.”
“You’re sick,” I whispered, glancing away from the feverish light in his eyes.
I wasn’t sure what was worse. The boredom and casual cruelty from when he first attacked me, or the rampant joy he took in destroying the things I cared about.
“Hardly,” he said, emotion leaking out of him as if it was never there in the first place. His face returned to the icy mask of nothingness. “What I am, is bored.”
He stalked towards me, and running started to seem like a better idea than being around for whatever was making his eyes gleam like that.
I kicked out, scooting away from him, wincing as bits of glass and broken metal bit into my hands.
His foot came down on my ankle, pinning it to the floor, and fire raced up my leg. A scream built in my throat, and I bit my tongue to keep it in even as dark spots flared in my vision from the pain.
I blinked until I could see again. When I could, my heart dropped into my stomach. Followed by a sense of hopelessness that wrapped around me like a cloak made of crushed dreams, heavy and awful.
The dark barrel pointed straight at my face seemed infinite. Time crawled as I stared into it, barely breathing. In those frozen moments, I waited for my life to flash by. I waited to see the people important to me skate through my mind one last time before I went wherever Mom had gone.
Except I only managed to feel...numb.
Like I was standing outside my body, staring down at some bleeding, dark-haired girl who was somewhat recognizable.
My eyes didn’t close as his finger found the trigger.
He said something else.
I couldn’t hear it through the heavy drum of my pulse in my ears.
Then the crunch of glass penetrated my blanket of apathy.
He looked up.
A dark shape came hurtling over me.
And the gun went off.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Tone
My ears rang with the sound of the gunshot in the small space, rattling my brain inside my skull as I crashed against Gio and sent us both tumbling to the floor.
Glass bit into my arms, and we were still sliding when he started hammering the heavy butt of the gun into my back, right between my shoulder blades and moving up.
I tucked my head as close to him as I could, trying to keep it from being a target even as he bucked his hips in an attempt to throw me off. A million things were going through my mind, and three of them demanded the most attention.
Where had the bullet gone?
Was I hit?
Was Naomi?
But even as the urge to turn and check on her rode me, I pushed it down and let the years of stored rage take its place. Keeping one firm thought in mind as I did.
If I didn’t get the gun away from him, we were both dead.
“Get the fuck off me,” he hissed, planting a knee between my legs. My breath whooshed out of me, and my grip slackened.
He used the opportunity to scoot away, and I felt more than saw his other arm coming around, bringing the gun to bear. Acting quick as I could, I rose up and grabbed his wrist with both hands, allowing the rapid blows to my midsection to land.
There was weight behind each one, enough to crush the wall of muscle and damage the sensitive organs resting behind them. My body seized at the pain, throat closing, but I managed to push his hand down and to the side, hammering it against the floor.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
Finally, he cried out and dropped the gun.
I barely had a chance to track where it fell before a closed fist took me across the jaw, snapping my head to the side. Stars danced in my vison, and the copper tang of blood filled my mouth. He hit me again from the other side, and I spat blood in his face before another could land.
Cursing me, he tried to wipe at his eyes while flailing blindly, and I punched him directly in the throat. An awful-sounding gag came from him, and his face changed colors. I wasn’t done.
I clenched my legs around his waist and started wailing on him, forgetting all about form in favor of turning my fists into anvils that I dropped on his face one after another.
His nose popped. His lips split. I landed a blow right over his brow, and could almost feel the bone around his eye socket give way. I knew it had when he released a howling scream that was more animal than man.
He surged up against me, head crunching into my face. The stars came back, exploding in the distance, and I fell backwards before I could stop myself.
Gio surged to his feet, or tried to. He slipped on the glass and paint we were both covered in from our wild tumble, feet going opposite directions. I landed a clumsy blow to his thigh, but it was enough to bring him back into a half-crouch. Enough to bring his evil fucking face in range of the rage threatening to boil me alive from the inside.
I was almost too late.
The singular thought spurred me on, pushing strength into my limbs. I threw myself at him again and we rolled sideways together before crashing into a wall. His head met the unyielding surface with an ugly thump, and he went limp enough for me to grab him.
My hands closed around his throat, squeezing like I wanted to extinguish the life from inside him, because that’s exactly what I wanted.
He clawed at my arms, but my limbs were too slick with paint and blood to give him any sort of traction. I didn’t encounter the same
trouble with my hands around his neck, and I squeezed until my whole body trembled. Until every cell inside me screamed with the need to take this man’s last breath the same way he had tried to take Naomi’s.
The sight of her crawling away, bloody and hurt.
His demented face staring her down.
The way she froze when the gun was aimed at her.
Those were moments I would never forget. Moments I would never forgive myself for. This was my fault.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
Had I left her alone, like I should’ve from the beginning, none of this would’ve happened.
I didn’t own a time machine. I couldn’t go back and change the past. But what I could do was ensure that he would never hurt her in any future.
His gasps turned into hisses of air, face gradually paling. His attempts at peeling me away from him became weaker. A blood vessel burst in his right eye, and I watched the crimson hue flood the whites.
Still, I bared down on him. A hurricane charging straight towards an object both unsuspecting and undeserving of any show of mercy.
Words that barely even counted as whispers slipped from his bloody mouth and closing throat. I recognized them as pleas anyway. Recognized and ignored them. They passed right through me with ease.
The staff in the hotel's restaurant had likely done the same. Begged. Pleaded. Gio and the rest hadn’t given a single fuck. He was expecting to find sympathy here? Now? From me?
Not a chance in hell.
I wasn’t going to stop. There was nothing on this earth that could keep me from watching the light in his eyes dim and go out.
Nothing that could slacken my iron grip from around-
“Let him go or she dies,” a cool voice announced.
My body locked up, a thousand gears that had been working together in perfect harmony suddenly falling out of rhythm. Turning my head over my shoulder was slow and jerky, in part due to the pain doing its best to latch onto me now that normal, human functions could peek from behind the eclipse of the rage.
What I saw had those volatile emotions roaring once more.
Naomi. On her feet. Held at gunpoint.
A-fucking-gain.
I spat more blood at Asher’s feet because he was the closest. Luca held a pale, trembling Naomi at arm’s length in front of him, gun terribly steady. With dismay, I noted that he hadn’t bothered to put it directly against the back of her skull. Another reminder that I was outnumbered three to one against professionals.
My gaze slid down and to the left, finding Gio’s gun. Asher followed my line of sight.
“You’ll need your hands,” he said calmly. “Even if you really did want to try for it.”
I wasn’t sure I’d ever hated a person more than I hated him in that moment. He was right. He was also completely in control of this situation and he knew it. So did I.
My strength continued to crumple into a ball that went up in flames, and I turned back around to glare at the half-dead man before I finally peeled my fingers away from his throat.
Trembling legs got me slowly to my feet. I didn’t try for the gun. Why would I? This wasn’t a movie, and I was no hero to be afforded the lucky break. Attempting to retaliate would have a singular outcome.
I would dive for the gun. They wouldn’t miss. Then Naomi would be left to their cruel devices.
Eventually, Axle was going to wonder why I’d blazed off with his Hummer in such a hurry.
Eventually, the full wrath of the Sinners would descend on this place like a horde meant for the End of Days.
But counting on either of those things to happen in time to get us out of this mess was a fool’s errand. I had to scrape together the tattered remains of my focus so I could stitch some semblance of calm onto my being.
For now, Naomi and I were still alive. There had to be a reason for that, and I would cling to whatever hope I could.
If nothing else, maybe I had a chance to get her out of here.
As if she knew my thoughts had turned in her direction, she met my eyes. The light in them was bleaker than I’d ever seen it, but I knew she would recover. Whatever else she might be, she was also the strongest woman I knew.
Asher stepped forward, shooting disdainful looks at the mess around him. He tried to avoid the worst of the paint, but it was useless. Paint was everywhere. He stopped directly in front of me, and my fists curled at my sides, sending up their own silent wishes back to back. Urging me to hit him once—just once—to see how that arrogant fucking face would look with a blooming bruise.
“I apologize for my associate’s behavior,” he said, leaning around me to glare at the man on the floor.
I could hear Gio taking rasping breaths, but I didn’t dare turn. The rage was leashed, but not lessened. Seeing him would cause that leash to snap.
“Involving this one,” he continued, hiking a thumb over his shoulder to where Naomi stood. “Was not part of my plan in the least. Believe it or not, I did not come here to be your enemy, Nathaniel.”
Nails biting into the meat of my palms, I managed to rumble, “You’ve certainly got a fucked-up way of showing it, you evil, lying motherfucker.”
He nodded and snapped his fingers. Michael darted forward, disappearing behind me. I heard him grunt, along with a hiss of pain that had me flashing my teeth, then he went by me again. Gio was slung over his shoulders, and they disappeared through the front door and out towards a waiting SUV before I could so much as protest.
“So, here is how things are going to happen,” Asher said, making me meet his cold eyes. “I’m taking Gio with me as we have much to discuss about the way he interprets my orders. You have a day to get your affairs in order and meet me at the hotel. Bring whomever you would like, but be prompt about it.”
I stepped forward, getting right in his face. “You think I’m just gonna let you waltz out of here because you said so?”
“Of course not. I think you’re going to let me because you have no other choice.” He smiled fake and venomous. “Look on the bright side for a change. You passed.”
He turned then, giving me his back. It was almost a bigger insult than anything else. That he was so sure of the power he held; I wasn’t even a threat to him. The Prince of Crime strolled out of the building and climbed into the back seat.
Luca shoved Naomi forward and into my arms. I caught her, holding her tight to me as he holstered his gun and collected the one Gio had dropped before getting in the driver’s seat. The window rolled down as they pulled away. Asher stared out of it, tossing a patronizing wave before they were gone.
Rage wasn’t a strong enough word for what I felt, watching their taillights trail up the street. I’d almost lost her, because of them. And they thought they could just leave and set up a meeting on their own terms?
They thought I wouldn’t chase them to the ends of the earth and then beyond?
I started towards the door, and a hand grasping at my torn shirt stopped me. Head swiveling, I stared at Naomi. Her lower lip trembled, and a spear went through my chest.
“Where are you going?” she asked on a shaky exhale.
A frown furrowed my brow. Where did she think I was going?
“I can’t let them get away with this,” I told her, wondering why I even had to bother.
With every second, they got farther away.
With every second, my chances of catching them unaware went down.
Naomi was silent, and I turned, taking her in. Cataloguing the injuries I could see. Something deep in my soul screamed to just...stay here with her, and I blocked it out. I filled my head with the image of her with that gun in her face.
What could I offer her now?
The answer was easier than multiplying by zero.
There was nothing I could offer.
An apology? Why? I couldn’t reach into her brain and pluck this experience from it, no matter how badly I wanted to.
And I couldn’t think of what else might be useful. Aside from her needin
g medical attention. Which I would make sure she got.
What she needed more than that was to know they would never bother her again. Never hurt her again. I owed it to her. After all, I’d promised to keep her safe.
The sparkling shards of glass in her hair and the cut along her cheek called me a gigantic liar.
“You’re going to leave?” she asked, letting me go with a wince. A shadow of something passed through her gaze, too fast for me to attempt to name it.
Again, deep inside me, there was a screaming demand swiftly silenced.
“Naomi.” I tried to catch her eyes, but she lowered her head. “I have to make sure they can’t do this again. To you or to anyone else. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
She hugged herself, refusing to look at me. It was acid on the wounds I’d already sustained, both inside and out. I embraced it willingly, letting the burn seep in deep as it could go. Forcing myself to brand the cadence of the heartbeats that filled this moment into my memory.
Because I was losing her, here and now. I knew it. I could feel it. And if there was any doubt, it was gone when I reached for her and she backed away. Shaking her head so vigorously she nearly lost her balance.
A hammer came down on my chest, splitting my heart into a jigsaw puzzle that could only be completed by hands that no longer wanted anything to do with me.
It was nothing less than what I deserved.
She sucked in a sharp breath, glancing at my mouth. “If you walk away,” she said slowly. Carefully. Making sure I was listening very, very well. “That’s it. You don’t get to...” Naomi bit into her lip, stopping the flow before starting again. “I shouldn’t have to explain this, Tone. Damn you.”
Third time she’s ever cursed in my presence, I noted, holding myself in place instead of pulling her into my arms. I’d lost the right.
“This’ll be twice,” she said, pulling her lip back and forth. Back and forth. Her head turned to the side then snapped back to my mouth again. “You don’t get a third time. Are you hearing me? I...can’t.” She choked on the last word, then uttered one more. “Stay.”
I stared at her, memorizing the cascade of dark hair. The tanned skin. The body that fit against mine so well. The eyes like sunshine rising over treetops.
Tempted by a Sinner (Seven Sinners Book 4) Page 27
