Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 102833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
I’m opening the bathroom door and mentally preparing myself for whatever is waiting for me on the other side when a loud explosion hits my ears, nearly shaking the house.
My eyes meet Henry’s, and he stills for several seconds before, out of nowhere, he pulls a gun—one I wish I had known about—and grabs me by the neck.
“Don’t even think about running,” he hisses, pulling me with him into the living room, into a corner where we can’t be seen.
Shots are fired, one after another, and my heart rate picks up speed. I hope it’s someone here to save me, but at the same time, the last thing I want is for anyone to get hurt because of me.
The door swings open, and several guys pile in with guns in their hands. Henry must know he’s outnumbered because he immediately shoves me toward them and starts shooting as he runs to the back of the house.
I drop to my knees, closing my eyes and praying I don’t get killed in the cross fire.
And I’m still praying, waiting for the shooting to stop, when strong hands lift me onto my feet.
“C’mon, Little Russo. Let’s get you out of here.”
Matteo.
He came.
I didn’t even know he was out of jail.
But he’s here to save me.
He lifts me off the ground and into his arms like I don’t weigh a ton and carries me out the front door, over to a four-door all-black BMW.
When he opens the passenger door, he places me gently into the seat and reaches over to buckle me in.
His heady scent invades my senses, and for the first time in a long time, I feel safe.
“You good?” he asks, turning to face me.
With him leaning into the car, we’re only inches away from each other, and I’m able to get a good look at his boyish yet masculine face. He’s just as I remember from the funeral—rough around the edges but beautiful. With his dark blue eyes and scruffy face, he’s every woman’s fantasy.
After what I’ve been through, those probably shouldn’t be my thoughts, but I can’t help it. Matteo is the light in my darkness. He promised he would save me, and here he is, getting me away from that monster.
“I’m okay,” I tell him.
Later, once the adrenaline dies down, I’m sure I’ll lose my shit. But right now, in his car, surrounded by his safety, I am okay.
His gaze lands on the bruise forming on my eye, and his jaw clenches.
“I promise,” I tell him, “I’m okay.”
With a nod, he rounds the front of the car and then slides in easier than it should be for a man of his size.
With a press of a button, the car comes to life, and he wastes no time, peeling out and heading down a gravelly road.
It’s been days since I’ve seen the outside, and now that I can, I’m glad I didn’t try to run. The driveway alone looks to be a half mile. He turns onto a road, and that one seems to go on forever, until he finally crosses over some railroad tracks and hits the main road.
“I never would’ve made it,” I admit out loud.
“No, it’s a good thing you waited. He wasn’t lying when he said he had men surrounding the place. And it’s a good two miles at least to get to the main road. And another ten to get to the city.”
His phone rings over Bluetooth, and he presses Answer.
“Talk to me.”
“He’s fucking gone! I’m pretty sure we shot him multiple times, but he’s nowhere to be found. It’s like the fucker disappeared into thin air. We’ve searched for places he could’ve snuck off to, a safe house or a hidden door, but there’s nothing.”
Oh my God. He got away.
I glance around, as if he’s going to pop out at us, and Matteo places his hand on my thigh, squeezing it comfortingly.
“He’s not coming anywhere near you,” he says, his eyes briefly meeting mine. “Ian, is everyone accounted for?” he asks, going back to talking to the man on the phone.
“Yeah,” Ian says. “Finn was grazed but is fine, and Kaleb took a shot to his arm, clean in and out. I’ve called the doc to meet us at my place. I also went back in and grabbed the electronics he left on his desk.”
Matteo grins. “Good job. Come to my condo once everyone is taken care of.”
He ends the call.
“Any chance he mentioned anywhere he might go?” Matteo asks me.
“No.” I shake my head, once again feeling useless. “Everything he told me was a lie to screw my family over. I don’t even know his real name.” That reminds me of something I’ve been wondering about. “Is our marriage legal since he used a fake name?”
“I’m not sure,” Matteo says, “but identity fraud is against the law, so I would imagine there’d be a way for you to get out of it.”