Page 31 of Finding Gwen

“Yeah,” I whispered, lifting my shirt. Anthony kneeled in front of me and the air caught in my lungs. A strangled gasp leaving my lips when his calloused fingers gently spread the ointment along my skin. My heart nearly stopped beating at the sight of this man on his knees taking care of me. It was all too much. I would never be able to repay him.

When he was done, he stood to his full height, leaving everything in a pile with the towel. He looked down at me with an unasked question in his eyes, one I answered with a pleading look of my own. I swore he could hear my heart hammering in my chest when he rested his hands on either side of my face, placing a kiss on my forehead. “Thank you for letting me take care of you,” he whispered. My bones felt like lead as I leaned into his embrace. The need for sleep called me even though I knew it was barely evening.

Anthony must have felt the shift because he took my hands, guiding me into bed and I let him. Exhaustion was quickly pulling me under, and I was barely able to keep my eyes open. Anthony pulled the comforter up to my chin, just how I liked it, then brushed my hair behind my ear. “Sleep well, luce mia.”

He bent down, gathering the pile of discarded things, and turned to leave. Before he could step too far away, I reached out a hand to grab him. “Stay with me, please.”

A smile threatened the corner of his lips. He discarded the things in the bathroom, then crossed the room, turning off the light and closing the bedroom door before making his way onto the bed. He laid on top of the comforter that I was underneath, pulling up a blanket from the end of the bed to drape over his legs. I knew this was his way of giving me back some of the control that I had lost recently, and I was grateful to him. My eyes drifted closed and sleep easily claimed me.

Chapter Twenty-One

Anthony

At some point, I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I remember, I opened my eyes to a pitch dark room. I was on my back with Gwen curled up next to me, her head tucked into my side, with my other arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders.

I watched her sleep peacefully, the rise and fall of her chest a steady reminder that she was safe. Oliver could have lost her. I could have lost her. All because I had been too stupid to admit how much she meant to us–to me.

Holding her up in the bathroom earlier, listening to her scream until her voice was nearly gone, shattered any remaining resolve I may have had. My heart broke, the same heart that had been caged off for years. But when Gwen walked into our lives, the bars confining my heart started to disappear. Her intentions may have been to care for Oliver, but from the very beginning, I had selfishly wanted to be the recipient.

Gwendalyn shifted beside me, pulling me away from my thoughts. One of her hands flopped gently onto my chest and she clenched my shirt in her fist. Beneath my arm, her body trembled, and I tightened my hold on her, hoping it would comfort her. It had the opposite effect, though, and she fought against me, her breathing increasing.

“Gwendalyn… Luce mia, you’re safe,” I whispered into her hair, kissing the top of her head, the familiarity of the action becoming an addiction that I wanted to do for the rest of my life. Instantly, her body relaxed into mine and she took a deep breath. Her fist released my shirt, her hand lying lazily on my chest as a soft groan escaped her lips. Lying my head back on the pillow, an internal debate took place on whether to stay in case she needed me again or checking in with Jason. Without a doubt, he would still be awake working on finding leads on Gwendalyn’s attacker. At the very least, I should check my phone and see if he had found anything before I came back to bed.

Carefully, I freed myself from around Gwendalyn’s body, kissing the knuckles on her hand as I laid them gently onto the bed. I tucked the comforter around her, draping the blanket that had been across my legs over her for an extra layer of comfort. I went into the bathroom and found our phones that I had discarded next to the sink at some point yesterday. A missed text from Jason waited for me.

Jason: Warehouse. ASAP.

There was definitely no staying now.

Noting the time, nearly three in the morning, I slipped it into my back pocket. While walking back into the bedroom, I made sure I silenced her phone so it wouldn’t go off then plugged it into the charger next to my bed, silently grateful we had the same type.

I pulled a notepad from my nightstand, scribbling out a note in case Gwen woke up while I was gone.

Running an errand. Be back soon. - A

The last thing she needed was to think I had abandoned her. Checking she was still sound asleep, I tucked the note under her phone then quietly slipped out of the room, heading toward my truck.

Fifteen minutes after backing out of the garage, I pulled up outside the warehouse and turned off my truck. I had no idea what to expect when I got inside, but if Jason had texted me when he knew I was taking care of Gwendalyn, it meant he found something. Or someone. I wanted it to be someone. I needed it to be. My blood began boiling at the thought of what she went through last night, some piece of trash thinking he could touch her, luce mia. I had shoved down the anger for too long. Now it was time to let it out.

Climbing out of my truck, I grabbed my knife from the glove compartment, then made my way into the warehouse. As soon as I opened the door, blood mixed with sweat and fear hit my nostrils and it relaxed me. I may not have been able to protect Gwendalyn last night, but right now, I could do something—something I was good at. Following the only light, I walked down the hallway to an open door, turning inside to find Jason sitting crossed legged on the floor in front of a man tied to a chair with his head hanging to his chest. My eyes darted to the small cut on the side of his face. A line of blood trickled down his cheek. I smiled at the sight of the blood and the thought of how much more was yet to come.

“This him?” I asked, stopping behind Jason, who stood from his position before answering.

“Nope,” he said. “But this fucker knows who he is. The bartender corroborated Gwen’s side of the story. She was arguing with a guy who looked to be getting too handsy. She then kneed him in the balls before basically stumbling out of the bar.” He paused, gesturing to the man in the chair. “He was icing his balls for a good hour after that, so he wasn’t the one who assaulted Gwen, but I’d say whoever did paid this fucker to spike her drink. He left his credit card, and the bartender gave me his information. I found him a few hours ago at a different bar, scoring drugs, so I knocked his ass out and dragged him here. He woke up and decided he was going to act tough, so I may have put him in his place a little.”

I gave Jason a short nod and pulled my knife from my pocket, twirling it around in my fingers before turning to the man in the chair. Jason moved to take up a place against the door frame. Walking over to the unconscious fucker, I stabbed his hand, embedding my knife into the wooden chair below it. His eyes snapped open, and I ripped out his gag, stuffing it into my front pocket as the scream that escaped from his throat turned to music in my ears.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he screamed as I pulled my knife back out of his hand and laughed at his question. Where would I even begin? I swung my empty fist, connecting it with his jaw, then gripping his shirt to pull his face toward me.

“Tell me who hired you,” I said, putting as much venom into my voice as possible. He answered by spitting in my face, liquid hitting my eyelids before it ran down my face. My body reacted without direction, my knife finding its way into his other hand. To his credit, the fucker didn’t scream that time. Not until I twisted the knife, anyway.

“Fuck you,” he sneered. In a flash, the knife was lengthwise against his throat, just below his Adam’s apple, while my other hand gripped his jaw. I put enough pressure on the hilt to cause the blade to nick the skin, a bead of blood to slip onto the metal. His eyes grew. He was scared. Good. “Hey man, take it easy. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Here’s the thing,” I growled while squeezing his throat. “You do know what I’m talking about. There is a woman at my home in my bed right now, a woman I care about very much, covered in bruises because someone thought they could touch what doesn’t belong to them. We both know that someone paid you to spike her drink. So forgive me, if I don’t take it easy.”

“Tony.” I whipped my head around to face Jason. He hadn’t moved from the door frame, but he had a look in his eyes. The one that reminded me I need to get answers before I kill him. Turning back to the fucker in front of me, I released my grip on his throat and pulled back the knife. The fucker started gasping for air and I mentally kicked myself. This asshole seemed to only have a single brain cell, and I deprived it of oxygen. I needed his fucking name.

I wanted blood, though. Oscurità mia was scratching to come out, demanding I do more. Maybe he wasn’t the one to force himself on Gwen, but he had drugged her. Plenty of men just like him have sat in this chair. All of them have said the women were asking for it. I don’t have the patience to hear his excuses tonight. Not after everything. No, this time I was going to get straight to the point.

---