Page 60 of Bound in Promise
Frustrated, I circle back and close the window I escaped from, elated to find Angelo still lying on the floor where I left him. This time I climb up, hoping no one will think to search for me on the upper roof.
But I’m not taking any chances.
I dial the number Dante gave me, praying someone picks up.
This is my one shot.
After this call, I need to turn off the phone so Angelo can’t use it to find me. He may think I’m still in the house, maybe he’ll think I slipped through the window, but again, his men are like wind-up soldiers and I don’t see how any hostage could escape. Least of all me.
Angelo deserves to be proud of the sick efficiency of his operation, the prick.
On the third ring, I’m doubting whether my plan will work when a deep and angry voice answers.
“What?”
The hostility in the man’s voice takes me aback and I lose my train of a thought for a moment.
“Umm…” Spit it out, Victoria, before he hangs up. “Enzo? Dante Moretti told me to call you if I was in trouble.”
Silence is the only response. I’m borderline freaking out. This number was supposed to be my escape plan.
My husband’s plan.
My only plan.
“What’s the codeword?” The voice is only slightly more gentle as he prompts me.
“Mine,” I answer immediately. Leave it to Dante to be possessive, even at a time like this. “We’re in trouble. I was told you could help.”
“Depends.”
My brows crash together. I didn’t think I’d be greeted like this. And seriously, where is the optimism here? “On?”
“What kind of trouble?”
Is this guy for real? Why would Dante put so much trust in a guy who is so nitpicky?
“What do you need to know?” I counter, trying to keep my fear and rising temper in check. I need a Hail Mary ASAP if I’m going to save Dante.
And this individual is taking his sweet-ass time getting it together.
“Where’s Dante?”
“In Angelo Lombardi’s house. Or mansion, rather. It’s fully stocked with armed men and I can’t leave.”
“Are you in a room or something?”
“No. I got out.”
“Then where are you?”
“On the roof.” More deafening silence. Does he know we’re kind of on a time crunch here? “Can you help or not? Please, I’m not sure how much time we have.”
“Where did you say you were again?”
“The roof.” I know it sounds insane, so I elaborate. “I knocked Angelo out with a lamp and climbed out the window. There’s a tree that I could use to get down, but there are way too many men that pass by and nowhere to hide if I launched myself out of it. The nearest bush is, like, fifty yards away and I was trying to find a secure place to call you so that you could get Dante out. He’s tied up somewhere or….” No. No, no, no. He’s not dead. I’d know. “I’m not sure how you’re going to get in. This place is locked up like a fort.”
Despair creeps through me. This was stupid. We’re never getting out of here.
