AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I shake my head, struggling to process everything.
Needing to escape, I climb to my feet, using the wall as support. My head spins, and I feel queasy as fuck.
Don’t puke.
Move.
When I reach the door, I peek up and down the hallway, and not seeing anyone, I sneak out of the room. I hear sounds coming from a TV, then someone lets out a loud burp.
“Get me another beer,” a man orders.
“I’m not your fucking maid,” another guy grumbles.
As I near the living room, I keep my body pressed against the wall, sucking in anxious breaths.
I can see part of the TV and boots resting on a coffee table. There’s a window that has yellow-stained sheer curtains.
My eyes latch onto the front door, and my heart beats faster as I hype myself up to make a run for it.
Get to the door. Open it. Don’t fuck up like they do in horror movies. Run like hell.
Movement catches the corner of my eye, and as I glance out the window again, I see armed men approaching the house.
Quite a few of them.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.
The last thing I need right now is to be stuck in a gang war.
God, then it’s game over for all of us.
The next second, the front door flies into the house as it’s kicked in. Shocked out of my ever-loving mind, I watch as Dario comes in, looking like an avenging angel who’s a second away from losing his mind.
“Holy shit,” I mutter, completely stunned.
Wearing sexy-as-hell black cargo pants, and a sweater that spans tight across his chest, the man looks freaking hot.
His eyes, filled with rage, touch on me for a second as he raises his arms, a gun in each hand.
Holy shitballs, batman.
I tilt my head, wondering if I’m still hallucinating as I watch him fire shot after shot in the direction where the men who are holding us captive are sitting.
Renzo comes in, followed by Franco, both looking as badass as Dario.
Confused out of my mind, I can only stand and stare, not sure what’s real and what’s not.
Renzo points his gun at me, and I start to shake my head. When he fires a shot, a squeak escapes me while I squeeze harder against the wall.
I glance down, searching for the bullet wound, but I don’t find any. Hearing a groan behind me, I glance over my shoulder and see a man lying in the middle of the hallway.
The woman with the blank stare is standing in the doorway of the bedroom we were held in.
Jesus. Was she with that man?
I don’t have time to think about it because I’m grabbed by my shoulders and squashed against a warm, solid chest.
“Fuck,” Dario whispers. “Christ, Eden.” He presses his face into my hair, rubbing his jaw over the bump on my head.
