Page 111 of Cruel Love

Gio smiles and settles back, laying his head along the edge of the couch. I pull his belt free with one hand, using the other one to glide down his leg. I watch him closely, holding my breath as I reach my own boot, feeling the end of the needle with my fingertips just out of reach. I push in further, stretching every possible bit of my fingers to latch onto it before I absolutely have to touch this fucker’s zipper.

A knock taps the door twice. I abandon my boot as Gio raises his head in frustration. He grunts as he stands, absently kicking me as he hops off the couch.

“This better be important,” he mutters as he crosses the room.

I take the opportunity to grab the needle as I rise to sit on the couch. I pop the cap off and lay it parallel along my thigh, folding my skirt over it to conceal it.

Gio opens the door a crack and a man’s voice travels through. I tilt my head to get a better look, but I can’t make him out in the shadowed hallway. Gio says something back in Italian. Again, I can’t make it out. Shouldn’t have taken French in high school instead...

I straighten up as Gio turns to look at me.

“Excuse me for a moment,” he says, disappearing out into the hallway.

The door closes. Something must have happened. Did Dante and Fox get made? Or something unrelated? God, I hope it’s unrelated...

I reach into my other boot to find the phone they gave me. I flip it open, quickly checking the time. Less than ten minutes until the cut-off time. I have to take Gio down fast.

The door opens again. I drop the phone back into my boot as Gio walks in. He closes the door and smiles to hide the annoyance in his eyes.

“My apologies. I guess the phrase don’t bother me doesn’t mean the same in Russia as it does in Italy.”

I force a laugh. “It’s all right.”

Gio takes a few steps closer. “Now, where were we?” he asks me, his voice lacking all subtlety.

He stops in front of me and lays a firm hand on my shoulder. I look up, feeling more than a little unnerved by him towering over me but at least we’re close enough for me to stick him easily.

“That’s right...” he says. “You were about to tell me what your father’s last words were, Lucy Vaughn.”

I freeze but I don’t let it last longer than a second. I jerk my wrist, aiming the needle for the fleshy part of his thigh. It sinks in and he grunts in pain as he lashes out and smacks me hard along the jaw. I fall back, trying to right myself and reach to push the plunger to dose him but Gio grabs the needle and pulls it out before I can get to him.

“That...” he glares at me, “was less than impressive.”

I hop backward, raising my leg to kick his knees. He dodges out of the way, giving me room to make a swift move away from him. I grab my glass and throw it at his face. It bounces off his forehead and falls to the ground, prompting a deep, guttural laugh from the bottom of his throat.

“Lucy...” he says. “That’s enough.”

I race for the door, but he takes two large strides to block my path and slams his rolled fist into my solar plexus.

I gasp for air, finding none as my throbbing knee gives out beneath me. Gio grabs my arm as I drop, holding me up off the floor with a firm, revolting grip.

“I am impressed that they would send you, though,” he growls. “Not in a good way, mind you. Just… impressed they’d be so unbelievably stupid.”

He releases his grip, letting me fall to the floor. I curl into a fetal position as he pulls back to kick me. I clench to let my tight core muscles take most of the hit. It hurts — a lot — but I hold it together.

“Tell me, Lucy Vaughn.” He kneels in front of me. “What exactly did you hope to achieve here? This is what I find so amusing about your 21st-century feminism.” He sneers at the word. “No matter how many female action heroes you see in your Hollywood movies, you can never change the truth that man will always be stronger than woman.”

Gio grabs my hair and yanks me upward on my knees. I bite down, trying not to scream as pain fires through my scalp.

He leans in. “Just stop fighting,” he whispers at me. “I promise you and your entire gender will be happier that way.”

I roll my fists. “You’re right, Gio,” I say as a tear spills down my cheek. “Men will always have something we don’t.”

He grins, showing his crooked teeth. “Strength,” he says.

“Balls.”

I jab forward, my fist connecting with his groin and I throw all of my strength into it. Gio shrieks and loses his balance as he falls into me. I shove him away, regretting it for a moment as he rips a lock of my hair out and tumbles backward onto the sofa.

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