I hop up on the bed to get to the door, but he intercepts me there. “We aren’t through here. If you won’t let me take care of it, I’ll drag you home and have someone take a coat hanger to you. Then I’ll make sure you’ll never be able to get pregnant again. Your choice.”
I rear back and spit in his face. “Fuck you.”
He sneers and wipes his wrist down his face. “Oh good, you want to fight. The coat hanger it is, and I’ll be sure to tell them you don’t tolerate pain medication well. It’ll teach you the lesson you deserve, girl.”
We struggle, but somehow, he’s stronger than me, tugging me toward the door and fiddling with all the locks. While he’s distracted, I try to yank my arm free, but his grip is like iron, and I can’t shake him off me.
I keep fighting until he curses and digs into his pocket to reveal a stun gun.
No. If he knocks me out, he can do anything he wants to me while I’m unconscious.
It’s like my brain goes blank. One minute, the fear is taking hold, threatening to dislodge sanity in place of horror. Next, the world is silent, still, like a slow-motion clip in a movie.
I reach behind my back with my free arm and wrap my hand around the grip of the gun. Then I tug it out of my pants, flipping the safety off at the same time.
He pulls me tight against him, raising the Taser toward my belly. He’s going to stun me right at uterus level, and I don’t know if my baby can survive that.
I raise the gun and shove it into his ribs, not even bothering to aim, and pull the trigger.
The sound rips through the room, making my ears ring. His eyes go wide, and then I feel the wet hot flow of blood over my hands, wrists, down the front of me as he releases me.
He hits the floor with a thud, and I stare down at him. Red stains my fingers and his shirt front, and it’s leaking into the carpet.
So much blood. It’s everywhere.
I think about Rose’s face in the dark and stare down at my dying father until he takes his last breath.
6
ADRIAN
Drinking sounds good. I don’t do it often because I hate how it makes me feel out of control, but without her…I already feel like my soul has been ripped from my body. I won’t control anything ever again.
I sip the bourbon and lay my head back against the chair. Even only two drinks in, I’m thankful my men don’t see me like this. I’m ashamed of myself. Ashamed of being proved the fool at her hand. Of being used like a puppet by someone I thought truly cared for me.
What I can’t get past is what I saw in her eyes. She loved me…was I too rough with her after I killed Sal? Is my barbarism why she felt the need to run? Shame, hot, sticky like maple syrup erupts inside my stomach. If I scared her away, this is what I deserve.
I take another drink and let it burn its way down to my gut. Right now, it’s the only thing I’m letting myself feel. Everything else is too much.
My phone vibrates on the nightstand, but I ignore it until it goes silent again. The bottle of liquor sits by my feet, and I bend over, the room reeling, to pour another glass. Even as the liquid sloshes over the sides, I want more. If I could drown myself in it, I would. At least right now, at this moment.
The phone rings again, the buzzing vibrations breaking through my alcohol haze to the anger barely banked beneath. No one important would be trying to contact me right now. Not after I’ve lost her.
I stare at the device, glass raised to my lips, and it rings again, vibrating several times, then stopping. Who the fuck is calling me right now? I try to reason, but the liquor is doing its job of dulling my senses and turning logical thought into mush.
In the quiet again, I drink deeply and hug the crystal glass to my chest. Yes, this is what I need. An escape. Something to dull the pain enough to keep going. A tiny part of my brain says I can use this anger, this hurt, this shame, and this fear to strike out at my enemies. Finally take them down once and for all. With nothing to lose, no one would be stupid enough to stand against me. Valentina is a liability. She always has been.
It doesn’t make this knife in the gut any easier to take.
The phone vibrates again, and the molten core over my anger cracks and shatters. I throw the glass against the wall above the bed, seize the phone, and scream into the receiver.
“What the fuck do you want?”
On the other end of the line is soft, ragged breathing. I strain to hear it over my own pounding heartbeat blasting in my ears. “Who is this?” I snarl.
Then a tiny shaking voice whispers, “Valentina. But it’s not…it’s I…don’t please…”
Her words run together in a rush, barely audible.
I clutch the phone in both hands and sink to the floor in a puddle of bourbon and glass. It cuts through my pants, soaking and mixing with blood. “Val? Angel, is that you?”
I don’t feel pain. All that matters in this instant is her.
“Yes. Angel. Yes.”
She sounds strange, ragged, and scared. “Tell me where you are. Tell me, and I’ll come get you. You sound like you need help. Let me help you.”
The haze of the liquor is still present, but I can see and feel around it now. She’s within my grasp, and I only have to reach out and coax her back into my arms. Then I’ll never fucking let her go again. “Tell me, Angel. Tell me where you are? Let me get you home safely.”
“Safe. No. Safe,” she whispers as if her mouth is pressed directly into the speaker of a phone. It’s not one I know of because I’ve had her phone traced. She must have gotten a new one or is using the one where she’s been staying since she left.
I hit the mute button on the phone and scream for Kai, who has been lingering around my door like he fears I might do something stupid. “Kai! Get your ass in here now.”
He comes running in, his dress shirt untucked, no tie, and barefoot. “What is it, Boss?”
In a second, he takes in the alcohol and the blood and rushes to my side, even as his own feet get cut on the glass. “Let’s get you—”
I shake him off. “Get the fuck off me. It’s Valentina on the phone, calling my phone. Go trace the fucking location!”
He rushes out without another word, and I unmute and continue to listen. She’s panting and mumbling into the receiver, and I’m trying to pick apart every word, but I’m getting nothing.
“Val, baby, please…tell me where you are? Please.” I’ll beg…I’ll do anything to get her back.
She mumbles louder, and I catch the word father and hiding, but everything else is muffled, not helped by whatever phone she’s using. It must be cheap, or service is shit where she’s located. “Come on, baby. You’re stronger than this. I know you can tell me where you are. Let me help you.”
I cradle the phone against my shoulder and strip my clothes off on the way to the closet. In seconds, I’ve changed into new pants and a clean shirt. The blood on my shins and feet will hold for now. Nothing major was injured. The room will smell like very expensive bourbon for some time, though.
“Talk to me, Val,” I order as I button my cuffs and then tuck my shirt into my slacks. “Come on, baby. Give me something.”
Once I get my feet jammed into shoes, despite the pain, I race out of the room and down the hall to Kai and Michail, who are on babysitting duty tonight. As if one of them could stop me from doing anything.