He claims to want a relationship with me, but I just hate him.
I hate his face, I hate his voice, I hate every fucking thing about that man who calls me his blood.
My eyes drift shut once again before I hear a light knock on my door. Whoever it is does not wait to be asked in.
Antonio walks in like he has no cares in the world. He sits down on a chair near my bed. My long hair cascades over my shoulders and some in my face. I choose not to wear anything nice they have left me, choosing instead a tank top and sweatpants.
“I know you hate me, and rightfully so, but I need you to understand where I’m coming from here. I want a relationship with you, Erica. You are my daughter and I will not lose any more time with you,” he says in a stern voice.
I choose this moment to finally speak.
“If we do this and I stay here with you for a while, will you eventually let me go back? After you get what you need from me? I just want to go back to my normal life.”
“There is no more normal life for you, Erica. The Irish are still looking for you. Don’t you see? You are in danger. Jared cannot protect you like I can.” I shake my head back and forth.
“That’s where you’re wrong. He can protect me. He has protected me this entire time. He saved my life, and without him in my life I don’t know how much more I can take. I am breaking, can’t you see that?” I look him in the eye and his face gives nothing away. I am falling apart little by little in this place. I feel alone and confused. I was doing just fine after Luca was taken out of my life. I thought I actually had a fighting chance.
Antonio is a cold, heartless man.
“You are not obligated to protect me. I don’t want your protection.” He starts to stand with a blank expression.
“You could have so much! It’s all at your fingertips and you’re just going to let it slip away? Do you even understand the power you have, Erica? Do you know what we could be as a family? Talk to me when you come to your senses.” He then leaves the room and slams the door.
“Ugh!!” I grunt in frustration.
That night I toss and turn, dreaming about Jared and wishing he was here.
Jared
It’s been a week since I was beaten and dragged out of her life. They left me blindfolded and told me not to move. One of the men left me in my car and drove me a mile away from my house. The other guy must have followed and he took off with him. For fear of getting shot, I waited a while to take my blindfold off.
One of my men was killed. Bullet to the brain. His name was Marcus. He was a prospect and working his way up to be one of us. Now he will never have that chance. The message was sent loud and clear, but I’m not giving up on her.
Fuck the mafia law, and the Italian’s. I don’t give a fuck what I have to do now. I will set a plan B in motion and get her back.
Luckily they called the doc to come and patch me up. He was worried about me, but also terrified for Erica. I guess they hit it off and have been friends since he helped her.
When I gathered my men to come with me back to the location, she was gone.
It was like someone punched me in the gut.
I fucked up. I should have known Antonio would be two steps ahead, and I underestimated him.
My men came to me and told me they have my back and will help me get her back no matter what. This is what brotherhood is all about. Grady is my second in command, so he thought what he was doing was the right thing. I should have slit his fucking throat for defying me, but I was too consumed with getting my woman back. When Matt and the other brothers said they have my back no matter what I felt relieved, because I need them for my next plan of action. Selling guns and trading is a whole different ballgame compared to what I’m going up against now. This is the real deal. These people are no fucking joke, but if I have more guys with me I have a better shot of getting to her.
They refuse to allow me to go alone again, and in that moment I felt the loyalty of my family in spades. They’re my brothers and they look at Erica as if she’s their sister, and that fills me with pride.
Grady, Beefcake, Glock, and four more of my men went with me to the last location. The place was cleared out.
Slate is a tracker. He has been a great friend of mine for years. He can track anyone down, as long as there is some sort of evidence lingering.
Between the tire tracks and fingerprints he was able to track down a possible location.
Slate worked for a very secretive security team in the Navy, so he knows his shit.
We ended up working together shortly after he was discharged. He came into my bar one night and I beat his ass in a game of pool. He hit it off with everyone and we have been cool ever since. We all have each other’s backs, through thick and thin. It’s like they’re the family I had been missing.
“Hey, can we hurry this the fuck up? Obviously she’s not here anymore. Gather all your information and let's get on with it,” I demand in frustration. The more I’m away from her the more anxious I’m becoming.