Page 118 of Love Him Like Water

Even if that was the result of this, it would likely mean Renzo being hurt or killed.

This, it seemed, was some sort of coup in progress.

But other possibilities formed.

Of hands dragging me to a new place. Hitting, kicking, smacking, pulling off my clothes… and… worse things.

All the while Elian was possibly bleeding out in the apartment building, with no one to know something was going on, that he needed help. That I did as well.

Sure, Renzo said he would be home for dinner, but that was hours away still. The chances of him coming home earlier seemed really thin.

My phone was sitting on the charger on top of the microwave in the kitchen. I had no way of trying to warn him.

There was no one coming for me.

No.

No.

I wasn’t going to get hopeless.

I’d never make it through this if I let that happen.

Someone would come. Eventually.

At some point, someone would find Elian. Then realize I was missing. And Renzo told me there were cameras all over the hallway and in some parts of the apartment as well.

He hadn’t told me why, save for saying it was regarding whatever ‘serious shit’ was going on with the family right now.

I hadn’t thought to press.

I’d been raised to know better than to do that. When or if the men were able to share details, they would. Otherwise, they didn’t tell us in an effort to protect us. Mostly from the police, if things came to that.

So I knew it wasn’t really my place to press.

Those cameras, though, if he took two minutes to review the footage, he would see Michael hitting me, taking me.

Then he would come.

I just had to buy myself some time.

I had to be calm and smart.

Stall, if possible.

Then wait for Renzo to come.

Even if this was a coup, there were clearly those still loyal to Renzo. Elian, for example, who’d taken a bullet for me. Cinna, I would bet my life on her being loyal. Rico and Dav also.

He wouldn’t be walking into a trap alone.

He’d have backup.

And he would save me.

Reminding myself of that allowed me to stop trying to take panicky quick breaths, focusing instead on long, deep ones that slowly allowed the fog of anxiety to clear.

The car veered in and out of traffic to a chorus of horns as Michael’s body slid around on top of mine, making my stomach churn, but I fought to stay as still as possible, pressing my legs into the door, hooking my bare toes into the cutout under the door handle, wondering if the child locks were on, if I could use my feet to open the door and… I don’t know… roll out from under him, scramble out, throw myself out onto the street. Dangerous? Sure. But likely a better fate than whatever Michael had in mind for me.

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