Page 45 of The Sicilian Brotherhood I

“I don’t like this, Dahlia.”

“Why would she leave like that?”

“I don’t know. I don’t do well with kids,” Giac grumbled.

I touched his arm, hoping to calm him down. Men are funny. He could punch a guy half to death but the only thing that could put a damper on his easy-going attitude was a child.

“Relax. She’ll be safe by Elena’s and when Skye turns up, we’ll send her back.”

“What if she never turns up?”

“She will,” I replied, “She’d never leave her daughter behind.”

My defenses of Skye were starting to sound weaker and weaker as time went on.

“She just did.”

I sighed. He was right. I glanced into the backseat. Millie was still asleep, her chest heaving and her long braids covering a part of her face as she leaned to the side.

“Giac,” I started.

“Hm?”

“What are we going to do after —“

My comment was interrupted by the impact. I don’t remember seeing what was coming, or feeling where exactly the impact was. But we were hit.

The car went spiraling out of control. I’d been taken by surprise just as much as Giacomo. The impact was hard, hard enough that I heard the car crunching as the metal collapsed partially on itself while the car spun and spun.

The car whipped around, flying towards a guardrail. The thin metal bars were all that prevented us from soaring over the cliffside. While the cliffside wasn't far, it was far enough to kill us if the car landed the wrong way.

The car flew towards the railing faster and faster, spinning out of control.

It was then I screamed Giacomo’s name. We hit the guardrail and the other car came reeling towards us again.

Then I screamed.

But it was too late and the oncoming vehicle slammed into us again, sending me sinking into darkness.

THE END.

BONUS: Preview Book II

Dahlia

My head throbbed. I couldn’t feel my legs. Or my arms. I was barely aware of any part of my body but my consciousness hung thick and painfully, floating somewhere between reality and the great beyond. I tried to cry out. I tried to move but again, I couldn’t.

Millie let out a loud groan. She groaned again and I heard the sound of a door opening and then men speaking in rapid Italian. She groaned and then I heard boots against the asphalt, thudding as the men approached me.

I tried to snap my eyes open but I couldn’t. My car door opened and I managed a whisper, “Giacomo…”

My eyes obeyed my commands at last and my eyes cracked open, peeking out at the world that I was slowly coming back to.

My vision blurred as I opened my eyes. I couldn’t make out the figure. Brown hair. Brown eyes. Not Giacomo, but Italian. He pulled a knife out of its sheath and got to work on my seatbelt. He cut through the belt and hoisted me out. I cried out, my leg throbbing from pain as he worked me out of the seat. My stomach turned as he hoisted me again, grunting as he shifted my weight.

“Giacomo,” I whispered.

I was out of the car and the man who had taken me slung me over his shoulder.

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