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I want him to hurt, before he dies.
He falls, crashing down, the sound of his scream tearing through the ringing in my ears. I stride forward, adrenaline rushing through me, and grab a fistful of his hair in my hand as I yank his head back.
“She’s mine,” I snarl, and I press the gun to his forehead. I have two shots left.
I pull the trigger.
The second I feel him go limp, I fling him down to the carpet, spinning towards the door. I shove it open just in time to see a tall, bulky man stepping away from Gia’s bedside, an empty syringe in his hand.
I don’t even hesitate. I fire once more, and put my last bullet squarely through his forehead.
Gia doesn’t move when he hits the floor next to the bed, and panic floods me. I toss the gun away, rushing towards the bed, and the sight of her pale face and limp body makes the hand around my heart squeeze into a fist, crushing it.
“Gia.” I reach for her, smoothing her hair away from her face, rage flooding me all over again when I see the bruise on her cheek and the blood on her lip. If I could kill Pyotr all over again for this, I would. “Gia.”
She doesn’t move. I press my fingers to her throat and feel her pulse, faintly.
She’s alive, but I don’t know what they’ve done to her, and fear jolts through me. Her hands are cuffed above her head, and I turn to the man’s body, bending to rifle through his pockets until I find the keys.
I might have lost the chance to tell her I love her. I might be too late.
The thought echoes through my mind, a punishing loop, over and over as I free her wrists and lift her fragile body off of the bed, clutching her to my chest.
I love her, and it might be too late.
I turn around to see Josef behind me, covered in blood, his eyes instantly on Gia. “Get a car ready to go,” I snap, striding towards the door. “Anyone who tries to stop you dies. We have to get her to a hospital, now.”
Josef nods, following me out, barking orders at the men. I head for the stairwell, cradling Gia as my men and I make our way past the blood and bodies back down, all the way out to where the car is waiting for us. I slide into the back, still holding Gia on my lap, unwilling to let go of her.
I hold onto her all the way to the hospital, until we push past the front doors, past the startled staff. “Clear a floor,” I snap at the nurse at the front desk. “I need a doctor, now?—”
“Who the hell do you think you are—” she starts to say, her eyes flicking between Gia’s body and my face, and I lean forward, my jaw tight.
“Salvatore Morelli.”
Her attitude changes immediately. She nods, grabbing for the phone. “Floor nine,” she says after a moment. “You can head up now. A doctor will meet you.”
Fifteen minutes later, Gia is in a bed, with my security spread out over the now unoccupied floor and Josef calling for more backup. Nurses are taking vitals and hooking her up to an IV, asking questions that I answer as best as I can, but all I can do is look at her, my heart heavier in my chest than it ever has before.
I sink into a chair, staring at her still form, and reach for her hand. I can’t lose her. Not now, not like this.
And I’m going to stay right here with her until I have her back.
Gia
I wake in a daze.
At first, I have no idea where I am. There’s a sharp, antiseptic smell, and when I move my hands, the fabric under them feels rough. At least, compared to what I’m used to.
I blink, trying to clear my vision. The lights above me are bright, glaring, and I reach up to press a hand over my eyes. There’s movement to my right, and I feel a large, warm hand suddenly covering mine.
Startled, I push myself up—or I try to, anyway. My body hurts, my head aches, and I mostly want to go back to sleep.
“Tesoro. Gia.” A familiar voice cuts through the fog, and I blink again, rubbing my hand over my face. When I lower it, my heart squeezes in my chest.
I’m in a hospital bed, I realize. In a hospital room. I feel a sting in my arm, and realize there’s an IV there. But none of that matters, because sitting in a stiff leather chair next to me, his hand gripping mine, is Salvatore.
My husband.
