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“I know. We have to get to Lakeshia before they do.” I look around the room where there’s nothing we can break apart to use as a weapon.
“And before she does something stupid.”
“We have some time before she’ll act,” I say. “After all, Katsuo will play interference.”
“I doubt it. Tomasso and Paul want to hurt her and won’t hesitate to let her know they have us. She’ll dwell on everything Tomasso has taken from her already. This could be her last straw.”
I push my body closer to Takeshi, needing his warmth as much as his closeness. “I wish you hadn’t reminded me. Dammit, I don’t trust her to sit and wait for us to free ourselves.” I rest my head against his shoulder and he brushes my forehead with a kiss.
“Wewillget out of here, and we will destroy every last Giametti,” Takeshi vows.
CHAPTER 36
Lakeshia
“You have twenty minutes.” Paul’s man says before pushing me forward.
I nearly trip, but correct myself before falling to the ground. Thankfully, I’m able to keep the cake box from spilling as well.
A door slams behind me, and I spin around while whipping the blindfold off my face. The fear from the long ride here is a constant companion, and being locked in a room does nothing to dissipate its potency.
The room is dark, dingy, and bare but for a camera in the corner by the door.
“Lakeshia?” Shinji asks from behind me.
“No, Shinji. You’re wrong. Our wife would never endanger herself by walking in the lion’s den with nothing but a cake box for protection. Whoever that is can’t be her.” Anger, soul deep and barely leashed laces Takeshi’s response.
I slowly turn around and hold out the box. “I brought goodies.” I end the last word on a high optimistic note and an awkward smile to downplay the seriousness of our situation.
Shinji and Takeshi wear matching thunderous expressions underneath bluish-purple bruises. What catches my eye and twists my heart in knots is Shinji’s shaved head. Gone are the long, silky locks I love to sink my fingers in. In their place is a patchwork of cuts and uneven tracts.
“Shinji, your hair,” I cry.
“It’ll grow back, but?—”
“Don’t change the subject,” Takeshi says.
He and Shinji exchange a glance before they charge forward with murderous intent darkening their brown eyes. Even as they march toward me, they can’t hide the slight limp disrupting their gait.
I try to hold in my reaction, and if they get too close I’ll lose my composure. “Hear me out before you do…whatever you think you’re going to do to me.” I circle them and place the box on the mattress on the floor, the only item in the room. I spin around to find them inches from me, their hands fisted and jaws spasming in sync.
It’s been three days, and all the anxiety and doubts I’ve held inside bubble forth in incoherent babble and tears. I lose the fight to keep my emotions restrained and launch myself at them, needing to feel their realness with my body.
Unprepared for my sudden attack, Takeshi stumbles but Shinji stiffens, reminding me they may have injuries beneath their clothes. Shinji keeps us all upright and they both tighten their arms around me, switching from scolding to comforting me in seconds.
And boy do I need their reassurance. Granted, I could blame my emotional outpouring on my pregnancy, but that would ignore the sleepless nights where I imagined the worst or seeing the discoloration on their faces and signs of swelling.
“Lakeshia, we don’t have time for this,” Takeshi murmurs while rubbing circles into my back, all previous signs of his anger muted by his concern.
“You’re right.” I pull away and wipe my face in a futile effort to compose myself.
Tears continue to fall, but no longer in earnest, and they don’t impair my speech. Without speaking, I gently draw both men under the camera and out of view of whoever is surveilling us.
“I’m getting you out of here.” I shake my head when Shinji looks like he’s about to object. “The Giamettis and Katsuo agreed.” I unhook my earrings and extract a note written in kanji from Katsuo.
It should detail just enough of our plan to ensure Takeshi and Shinji play their roles when the time comes, but I can’t be sure. I’m never certain of Katsuo’s motives or what goes through his mind, however, I trust him with my husbands’ lives.
They read the note and frown, while I memorize every facet of their changing expressions. Without knowing the next time I’ll see them, I have to cherish these last twenty minutes together while not hinting at my upcoming confrontation,
