1
Amara
My ears ring with the sound of a gun being shot. Enzo shot me. Or did he? If he did, why am I still awake? Why am I still breathing, and why is my heart ready to beat out of my chest?
Another shot sounds, and I’m not sure what’s happening.
Then I hear Mack’s laughter filling the room, making my stomach quake.
“You thought this bitch would be smart enough to do something like this?” Mack asks.
I look up and find Enzo is on the ground, his face filled with pain as he stares at me. Another groan catches my attention, and I turn my head toward the sound. Eli is also on the ground, holding a bleeding wound on his leg.
I tear my eyes away from him and return them to the man in front of me. The look in Enzo’s eyes says he’s sorry, begging for forgiveness, speaking the words he can’t say.
“It was you…” he groans.
“Ding. Ding. Ding. Of course, it was me. Did you think I would sit idly by while you reaped the benefits of everything I had done for you? I was tired of being treated like shit while the ‘King’ sat on his throne. Instead, I turned you in to the FBI and made a deal with them. They let me off the hook—I give them you. They’re on their way here to pick you up now. As for Amara. Well, that hot piece of ass is coming with me.”
“No!” Enzo shouts, trying to reach for his gun. Mack kicks it away with ease, and my hope goes flat. He’ll never be able to reach the gun now.
“Yes,” Mack mocks. “Then, once we’re finally alone, I’m going to fuck her every way possible.”
I try my hardest to wiggle out of the ropes, but end up losing my balance and fall forward onto my stomach with nowhere to go.
“Leave her alone,” Enzo grits, rolling over to search the floor for another weapon.
“Yeah, fuck no. She’s coming with me,” Mack says, “but first…” My eyes go wide when I see Mack pulls a knife from his boot. I shriek when he grabs me, but I quickly realize he is cutting the rope between my ankles. “I’m not carrying your ass.”
When my feet are free, he straightens back up. Gripping the ropes around my midsection, he pulls me up with him.
“Enzo...” My voice is full of anguish. Mack’s dirty hand fists into my hair, pulling my face to his.
“Say another word and there’s going to be a fucking bullet in your head,” he growls.
“Get your fucking hands off her.” Enzo can barely get the words out, and though I want to look at him, I can’t. My heart’s already breaking.
“How about… Fuck. No!” Mack mocks and then points his gun off in the distance. His hold on my hair keeps me in place, and when I hear the gun go off again, I can’t stop the tears from coming. A sob rips from my throat as Mack starts pulling me away.
“I love you,” I cry out.
“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?” Mack shakes me, then bends down to pick up some duct tape. He rips a piece off with his teeth and slaps it against my lips. Tears continue to cascade down my cheeks. I want to say I love you over and over again since I’m certain this will be the last time I’ll ever see Enzo alive.
“Save your cries and begs for later. Where you’re going, they love to hear women scream. They feed off the tears you cry. Believe me when I say, if you thought Enzo was a monster, you’re in for a wild ride.”
Tears blur my vision, and cool air whips through my hair as Mack pushes us through the front door.
“You’re my ticket out of all of this.” He sounds gleeful, and all I want is to wipe the fucking smile off his face.
Picking me up as if I weigh nothing more than a feather, he opens the back of what looks like a van and sits me on the edge of the entrance, so he can open the other door. My mind skids to a halt as I realize this might be my only chance to escape. I pull my feet together, bunch up my legs as much as I can and push back as I kick at his face.
He stumbles back only slightly. Swear words fill the air. Trying to sit up, I push my legs up again to get another good kick, but he is faster, bigger, and stronger. His hands grip my legs as his face contorts in anger.
“You dirty fucking bitch,” he shouts as he shoves me further into the van.
Fighting with all my might, I push back, kicking and screaming.
“No!” I repeat over and over again, even though it comes out as nothing but a muffled noise against the duct tape.