His lips pull back into a snarl and I smile back for the hell of it.
He’s dressed the same as the other man, only this one is short and stocky. I curse when he charges forward with a yell, but I stand my ground and wait for him to approach. When he’s close enough to grab me, my fist snaps out to meet his throat, and he chokes on the blow. He’s the final obstacle I have to clear to get out of this nightmare and I’m running out of time before the rest of Elio’s men catch up to me. I need to get myself and my unborn child out of here.
The guard doubles over and I take advantage of his position, spinning him and pulling him against my chest by his hair. It’s been far too long since I’ve felt the warmth of someone’s blood on my hands and this gun is as useless to me right now as standing here screaming at the top of my lungs would be.
Smiling to myself, thanking fuck I got that nail file, I dig my nails against the sputtering man, using enough pressure to pierce his skin. Blood begins to pool around my fingers as I press in as hard as I can, the guard jerks in my grip as he fights against my hold. I kick out, my foot driving into the back of his knee and the force driving my fingers deeper into his throat as he falls forward.
This would be a whole lot easier if the asshole was unconscious; the jerking of his body and wetness from the blood make it hard to hold my grip. While quick and quiet is a nice dream, his struggles make my task nearly impossible. But my training has me ready for any of his movements. Finally feeling my fingers touch between the muscles in his throat, I pull as much as my weakened body lets me. I won’t be able to completely rip his trachea from his body, but it’s enough to crush his windpipe between my fingers and sever his carotid artery.
The guard jerks, gasping louder than I’m comfortable with, but he falls forward and I watch him crash onto his stomach. It would take him roughly thirty seconds to bleed out and, as much as I would love to stand around and watch his life leave his body, that’s thirty seconds me and this baby don’t have.
I look down at my blood-soaked fingers, my nails sharp and strong, and smile.
“Much better.”
Satisfied with the state I’ve left the guard in, knowing he won’t be getting back up, I turn on my heel to run towards the chain-link fence once more. The gasping and gurgling rings like an alarm in the dead of night. Distant shouts and yelling from the other side of the mansion make me confident this is it; I’m going to make it out of this. If anyone was anywhere close to the struggle between me and the guard, they’d already be on me.
I finally reach the fence, pressing my bare feet between the links and clambering up as fast as possible. The thin metal digs into my skin, making it hard to keep my grip while I climb. Just when I finally reach the top and swing my leg over the thick bar, when victory’s so close I can taste it, a gun sounds near me and a sharp pain shoots through the side of my abdomen. The force from the gunshot sends me falling back to the ground. The wind whooshes from my lungs when I land, and I roll on my back, waiting for the shooter to step forward. I grab my side, trying to put pressure on the wound and push out the fear of what this could mean.
Fury etched on his face; Elio steps closer until he’s standing above me. I chuckle, holding my side, not letting him see the defeat I’m feeling.
“I can’t wait to feed you your fucking heart,” I snarl, feeling with a bloody hand for the gun I took from the security guard.
I must’ve dropped it when I fell. My hand falls to my side as my vision begins to blur. Elio’s face softens with amusement when someone steps up to him holding out a syringe. He takes it, uncaps it and releases the air in a show so slow I know he’s loving every second of this.
Faster than I was prepared for, Elio bends down and jams the needle into my skin. He holds my glare until I can no longer make sense of the world, my vision blackening and everything going numb.
14
Malia
Istruggletowake.Twisting my hips, I hiss against the pain that resounds through my body. The hiss makes me cough against the scratchiness of my dry throat. I blink, taking in the dark room with the curtains drawn. I don’t know this room, but it’s not a cell and an old mattress underneath me, so perhaps the memories slowly filtering through the fog were only a nightmare.
I groan, tugging my hands and finding them bound once again to a headboard. A dark chuckle sounds from a tall figure hidden in the corner, watching me.
Elio steps into the room, the faded sunlight lighting up the smirk on his face, and I sneer.
“You motherfucker,” I croak, coughing again.
I hate this shit.
He tilts his head, slowly walking toward the side of the bed. The smile on his face only grows more smug with every step he takes.
“You’re quite the prize,principessa,“ he drawls, running a finger down the side of my face.
My body stilling at his touch.
“Prizes take effort and winning, not cowering like a bitch and making others do your dirty work,” I hiss.
My ears ring and vision blurs when Elio slaps the back of his hand across my face. I chuckle and he slaps me again, only making my laughter grow.
Elio retreats, taking two steps back as my laughter dies off and I give him a bloody smile. His lip twitches in amusement, then he rubs his chin in thought.
“When you were put down, we had our live-in doctor check you over,” he says, crossing his arms and spreading his legs to widen his stance. “We found something interesting that tells me exactly why you would risk such a stupid move. Tell me,principessa, did you know?”
The baby. Of course, he found out. Of course, he would have a doctor look me over after being drugged and shot. Elio Ricci wants me alive at all costs. He wants me to be his. I was right there; I could taste freedom. I almost got us out of this, but now what? Is my baby still alive and if it is, for how much longer?
My breath hitches, the weight of my failure weighs heavy on my chest. I tried. I fought like hell to get us out. To get back home, but it wasn’t enough.