He knocks one guy on his ass as he puts himself directly between me and the guy about to attack me. I fall to the floor and cover my face in instinctual self-protection and flinch at the sound of flesh hitting flesh. Dario sinks a vicious punch in the first guy’s jaw, swivels and kicks the second in the face so hard I hear a sickening crunch. He fights as if he were made for this, as if his body knows exactly when and how to bend, strike, and block, every move instinctual like a predator’s hunt.
Blood pours from his nose. Someone tears Dario’s shirt. Screams wail around us like the gnashing of teeth.
I hear a car approaching outside. Just one. No sirens. Could be damn near anything right now. Nothing would surprise me.
“Fuck! Fuck!”
One of the guys attacking Dario backs away, his hands up in a sign of surrender. “Jesus, man. Stop!”
Both men stop defending themselves against Dario. Dario blinks, as shocked as I am.
“He’s fucking Rossi!” One guy points with trembling hands at the now-visible rose on Dario’s arm. “Run! Get out of here!”
They scramble out of the room and Dario looks like he’s going to run after them, when he turns to me. “Someone’s coming,” I whisper. “I heard a car outside.”
“That’ll be Orlando. He got our signal and wasn’t far. We have to go, now.” His voice still commands, but he’s gentled the tone. “Are you hurt?”
Of course I am. My eyes are blurred, lacerations and welts cover my body. But my bones feel intact, still, and I think I’m okay this time.
“I’m—I think I’m okay,” I whisper.
He grabs my elbow and drags me to my feet. “You do exactly as I say while we get out of this place. Exactly.”
I can only nod my head.
All around us, they’re oblivious to our escape, as all run for their lives. There’s something about knowing they’ve mistakenly crossed into Rossi battle territory that’s put the fear of God in them.
I stumble out of the hold we were in with Dario. At first it seems like it’s some sort of landing within a warehouse by the wharf.
I blink in the bright overhead lighting. We’re not only on a wharf, we’re on a ship, and the men that were kidnapping us are leaving as fast as they can. One dives into the water, two more jump into a car park at the end of the pier as my cousin Orlando, huge and bigger than life, marches on the pier leading toward us bearing the largest gun I’ve ever seen. Right here in broad daylight as if defying someone to snap an Instagram shot or call the police.
He sees them trying to take off and lifts the gun. Tires squeal as they peel out of the lot to escape with their lives.
I cover my mouth with my hands. Dario grabs my arm and pulls me with him toward Orlando.
“No matter what happens, get to Orlando,” he says.
No matter what happens? What does he think will happen?
Orlando shoots as the car peels away. He shoots at the water until air bubbles rise, until the water’s coated red and no one surfaces again. Nausea grips my stomach.
When Orlando reaches me, he takes me by one arm and Dario takes me by the other. There’s no warm greeting, no reassurance that I’m okay. He doesn’t even look like he knows me.
They drag me off the pier and shove me into a nearby waiting car. I’m breathing heavily, panting. I don’t feel as if I’ve been rescued. It’s not like I get to go home free and clear now, though I guess I’m relieved I’m alive. Dario was taking me to The Castle.
Have others shown up to rescue us? It was a quick signal and it wasn’t long between sending it and Orlando showing up, but a rescue from the Rossis should mean more than just one comes. I look around for more guards, another brother, anyone else but Orlando, but he’s the only one here.
It’s the first sign to me that something’s off with this rescue.
And then… then I realize. This isn’t a rescue at all.
I look around a second time, half expecting to see our captors coming for us, but no one comes. They’re all fleeing as if the wharf’s on fire. I glance from side to side in the bright light of day, trying to get an idea of where on the wharf we are.
Cold dread fills my belly when I realize the predicament I’m in. Orlando and Dario aren’t going to take it easy on me. They’ll have questions and want answers.
I have to get out of here.
I reach for the handle on the door, but it’s locked from the inside. I look frantically around for another way out when the shadows of two large figures loom outside the window. The driver’s side door opens, and Orlando slides into the driver’s seat. They’re having a hushed conversation that stops the minute they know I’m in earshot.