Page 27

The man standing against the wall is reaching for his weapon. He doesn’t get there. Sal takes him from the doorway. The one at the table turns. His hand goes toward his own jacket.

I end him before the hand gets to the lapel.

The last of Zidaru’s men in the warehouse goes down to the second of my men in the corridor behind us.

Then there is quiet.

Just her, in the chair, with her wrists in her lap.

I cross the room.

Kneel.

My hands are shaking.

I have not shaken like this since I was ten years old. I have put men in the ground with steady hands, cut zip ties off hostages before. My hands have always done what I needed them to do.

But they are clumsy as I take the pocket knife out, cut the zip tie off her wrists.

I cup her face in both hands, careful, thumb along the burn of her cheek.

“Tesoro. Amore mio.” I don’t know I am speaking in Italian until I am halfway through the second word. “Look at me. Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“Just the cheek.”

“He will not touch you again. He will touch no one again.”

She puts her fingers against the side of my beard, her thumb at the corner of my mouth. Her eyes are wet.

I pick her up.

She goes into my chest without a sound. Buries her face in the side of my neck. Her whole body shakes. I carry her out of the warehouse, past the two men on the floor of the outer room, past Sal, into the back of the car.

I slide in with her still against me.

“Amore,” I murmur into her hair. “I have you. I have you. I have you.”

Sal gets in the front. Pulls away.

I take the phone out of my pocket. Dial Jesse.

He picks up on the first ring.

“It’s done.” I keep my voice low because she is still against my chest. “Rosalie’s a little bruised, but safe. My men are finishing the rest of Zidaru’s operations.”

“Zidaru and his men here are taken care of. Thank you for your help.”

I look down at the curls spilling across my shoulder. The small, strong hand gripping the front of my shirt.

“There’s no need for that. Nobody touches what’s mine and walks away from it. Turns out we have that much in common, Jesse. Take care of your girl. I’ll take care of mine.”

I end the call.

I put the phone face-down on the seat beside me.

Rosalie is still shivering against my chest. I tip her face up out of my shirt. Press my forehead to hers.

“Rosalie. Look at me.”