Page 68 of Heaven Help Me

“What are you doing?” Deuce hisses.

“Being useful. You should try it.”

“Jesus. Same ol’ Valentina,” he grumbles. “There’s a rusty nail behind me that I’m currently using to try to cut through the twine around my hands. Can’t remember if I got a tetanus shot recently.”

Developing tetanus is the least of our worries. I finally make it to the stack of tools, turning my back on the pickax and settling in. “Good. I’m doing the same over here. Without weapons we’ll have to jump him at the same time to overpower him. How many outside?”

“There were two we already took out. Maybe more behind the place, which is where Rhett went.”

We both freeze as we hear Fazio’s angry voice from outside the door. I tell my aching shoulders to man the fuck up and begin to frantically saw my hands up and down the pointy end of the pickax. Fazio’s voice carries as he gets closer to the door. He’s clearly talking to one of his men. Then it goes silent and I have to slow down the sawing of the zip ties around my wrists to keep quiet.

Fazio flings open the door and bright light floods the room. I turn my head away and squeeze my good eye shut. Fazio smiles as he takes in the room of hostages.

“Oh good. You’re all here.” He laughs at his own fucked-up joke, then messes with his phone. “Time to call dear ol’ Bettina.”

He gets her on a video call, panning the room to show her what he’s done. While she stays stoically quiet, Fazio pulls his gun out of his waistband and holds it to Marcel’s sleeping head.

I let out an involuntary yelp, forgetting all about the pickax. “Stop!”

Fazio smiles. Before I leave here, I plan to knock out each and every tooth. “Maybe you’d prefer this option?” He swings the gun to point it right at Deuce’s head.

I kick my feet but can’t do a damn thing with my hands tied behind my back. We both know it. “You have me, you sick pig! Why do you need them?”

Fazio turns, his anger directed at me like I hoped it would. “Because this bitch didn’t give a shit that I’d kidnapped you! Your own mother!” He crouches down in front of me, witness to my humiliation.

She’s not my mother.

I don’t say it out loud, but I admit it to myself for the first time. I’ve spent my entire life trying to win her favor. To be the daughter she always wanted. To be perfect so she wouldn’t disown me. Walking on eggshells just to keep a woman in my life who can’t be bothered when it comes down to it.

Except she can’t disown what she’s never actually owned.

She’s never loved me.

She’s never actually seen me as her daughter.

Sure, she’s cared for me in her own way. She’s appreciated the work I’ve done for the Barzettis. She’s even felt a hit of pride at my accomplishments, I imagine. But she’s never loved me. I doubt she even knows what love means. What it feels like. How it changes your priorities and perspectives. The strength it awakens when it’s threatened.

Fazio stands up and walks back to the men on the other side of the room. “So, choose, my darling Valentina. My dear future wife. Choose which one you want me to kill.”

“Don’t you lay a hand on my son!” Bettina yells through the phone.

Panic has every cell in my body on notice. My hands have been rubbing on that blade up and down, small minute movements, until I feel it. There. A silent pop. The pressure around my wrists eases a fraction. I want to whip my arms to the front and massage blood back in them, but I don’t. I won’t give an inch until the time is right.

Marcel lifts his head and I’m both relieved he’s alive and horrified he has to witness anything that might happen in this room before it’s all said and done. He takes in the scene, then gives his son a smile. To my surprise, he then looks over at me, giving me that same easy grin and a wink.

“Choose me, honey. I’m just a sick old man who’s lived a good life. I’ve raised a son I’m proud of and seen him fall in love with the daughter I always wanted. I’m sorry I won’t get to walk you down the aisle, but I’ll be there with you both just the same. I’m ready to go.”

“Papa,” Deuce whispers, voice breaking.

Tears blur my one good eye. There it is. The unconditional love I was always working so damn hard to get from Bettina. Before I can formulate a response, Deuce scrambles to his feet. Fazio swings his gun that way, which is not what I want either.

“Fazio,” Bettina snaps from the phone screen.

“I have a better plan,” Deuce says confidently. He’s tied up and sporting a bloody nose, but even in his dusty suit, he looks handsome. He looks calm. Way more calm than I feel.

“Oh, yeah?”

“You let Valentina and my father go.”