32
Malia
OneminuteIwasstanding on a balcony watching the sun disappear behind the mountains. The next, the sound of gunshots rang out into the night, bouncing off the hills. Elio’s men yelled, barking orders, some shouting in fear. Oscar grabbed me when I ran back into the safety of the mansion, dragging me into the cellar and throwing me into a prison cell. He left me alone, without an explanation of who was attacking us or why. When I heard the footsteps pounding on the stone floor, I thought Elio was coming for me; that maybe he’d stashed me here to keep me safe.
Instead, I stare at the man my husband claims did this to me. The man who left me for dead. It seems my husband hung me up as bait for his enemies, trapping me and giving me to the people who almost killed me. I’m a diversion so he can slink away into the night.
I’ve struggled to keep my emotions level lately, going from calm to irritated to royally pissed in the blink of an eye. Like now. The fear goes all the way to my core, but something inside me wants to bite back, to fight. I don’t know what that means for me—whether it’s a side effect of my medication or it’s the real me trying to break out.
I can’t trust these people. Not based on what Elio told me about them being the cause of my injury. He pointed the finger directly at the man trying to lure me away from the only home I can remember.
Then there’shim.
The beautiful man from my dream. The scene has played on repeat in my head, so vivid it could have happened yesterday. But I could never be sure; was it something I’d made up? Or was it real?
And there he is.
Real and looking at me the same way he had in the dream.
There’s too many people I don’t know in here, looking at me expectantly, as if I’m supposed to fall to my knees and be thankful they came for me. I don’t feel like I need to be rescued. But I’ve never felt safe here, either.
“It’s okay, baby girl, we’ll get through this together,” says the man who looks like me. “Tyjae is gathering something for our trip home.”
As if on cue, Tyjae slips into the cell and heads straight for me.
“Are you okay?” she asks me, and I frown at the question.
Tyjae has been the closest thing to a friend I’ve had since waking up in that hospital bed. How do I judge this? Her walking in here comfortably, without even questioning these strangers?
Strangers I was told were trying to kill me.
“Malia,” she says in a soothing tone. “Everything Elio has told you is a lie. These men would never hurt you.”
I feel like a small child being forced to face her biggest fear and blindly trust those around her.
“You’ve known this whole time?” I croak, looking at the woman I thought was my friend.
Her features soften as guilt flashes across her face.
“It wouldn’t have been right for me to tell you. Not at the risk of you dying. I refuse to sit around and let another family lose someone they love because of what the Riccis do.”
What they do? What the hell does that mean?
“Ty,” I say with a sigh. “I need to hear the truth from Elio.”
I don’t miss the fact that everyone exchanges looks before they decide to answer me.
“Alright, baby,” the man from my dream says. “We will get your answers and then take you home.”
I stand frozen, unsure whether or not I should go with them. I finally come to the conclusion that I’m surrounded by men with large guns and not a single one has pointed it in my direction. Every set of eyes is filled with concern, sadness, sorrow, pity… If they wanted me dead, it could’ve been done when the door was closed and I was locked in my cell. That reasoning finally propels me forward.
Everyone moves in unison, nobody uttering a single word. Tyjae walks beside me on my left and the man from my dream stays close on my right. Every once in a while, his arm brushes mine as we trek through the mansion to wherever Elio is being kept. And, with every one of those touches, I meet the icy stare of a man who looks like he’s lost the most precious thing he’s ever held.
The man claiming to be my father comes to a stop in front of a door. A man with white-blonde hair who looks around my age steps up to him, his jaw tense as he stares at me before finally breaking our gaze.
He clears his throat.
“There’s still no word on Giovanni and Sofia’s whereabouts,” the man reports. “I recommend we hurry back before they retaliate while you’re not there.”