Page 21 of This Thing of Ours

She shook her head. “No.”

He exhaled a relieved breath, giving her hand a squeeze.

She pulled her hand from his, rolling to her side while closing her eyes. “I’m going to try to get some more sleep.”

She was shutting him out. Shutting the world out. He understood the need to do that better than anyone. “It will take some time, but soon, I’ll want my old Gabriella back.”

“What if I don’t know how to find her?”

“We’ll find her together.” He stood from the bed and looked down at her. “I’ll be close. Just shout if you need anything.”

She pulled the covers over her shoulder and snuggled into them. “Okay.”

He watched over her a few minutes longer, but she never opened her eyes or said anything more, so he turned and left the room.

A few hourslater, Gabriella still sleeping, the door fixed, and with the arrival of Dona, Marco had no choice but to leave. He had no good reason to stay.

After stopping at home for a quick shower and a clean change of clothes, he went to the warehouse where Johnny was babysitting their new friend.

The guy hung from his wrists from a set of chains attached to the ceiling in the middle of the room. He’d been left to hang—to spend a little time contemplating life. Marco hoped to hell the guy had used the time to work shit out and get his priorities straight because he was about to tilt his fucking world.

His footsteps echoed through the vast emptiness of the room and both Johnny and the guy turned their heads to watch him approach. Marco got his first good look at the guy. He didn’t appear worked over other than the black eye and swollen jaw he’d probably received at the time of capture. His hands were discolored and useless, hanging limply from a set of cuffs that tightly circled his wrists. His toes barely touched the ground, the sneakered tips taking some of the pressure from his straining shoulders but not completely alleviating it.

“Give us a few minutes,” Marco said to Johnny as he passed, tipping his head to indicate the exit door.

Johnny didn’t question the order, and with a curt nod, left the building. Marco slowly approached the prisoner and stopped when he was a few feet away. He took his time staring the man down before he said anything. “You have info I want, and you’re gonna give it to me.”

The guy’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he worked his throat, trying to swallow.

“Thirsty?”

The guy’s eyes widened a fraction, but he nodded.

“Sorry, man, I don’t have any water. But tell me what I want to know, and I’ll have Johnny,” Marco paused and indicated the door with a wave of his hand, “go get you some.”

The guy licked his lips. “I don’t know nothing.” He made another nervous swallow.

“Oh, I don’t know, you look like an intelligent guy. I’m sure you knowsomething.”

“I don’t have the answers you want,” he clarified.

“How do you know? I haven’t asked any questions yet.”

His voice growing stronger the more he talked, the guy said, “You want info on the boss. I already told the last guy that was here, I don’t know nothing about that.”

“Actually, I want info on the boy.”

The guy's eyes widened farther, and he shook his head. Bingo. They hadn’t been sure the kid Gabriella had been seeing was involved, but by dickhead’s reaction, Marco would bet his small fortune he was and get good odds on it.

“No?” Marco took a step closer, tucking his hands in his front pockets, so he didn’t strangle the fucker before he got the information he wanted. “Let me let you in on a little secret. I hate the word no. In fact, the word no sometimes makes me do crazy things. Do you want to know the crazy things the word no makes me do?” Marco cautioned him before he could answer. “Careful. Remember the word no makes me crazy.”

The guy’s internal struggle was clear to see. Compressed lips. Jaw working as if he were grinding his teeth. Narrowed eyes. Finally, he tipped his chin in a weak nod.

Marco’s lips pulled up into a smile that he knew didn’t reach his eyes. “See, I knew you were an intelligent guy.” He reached around, pulled his gun from its holster at the small of his back, and held it up, angling it this way and that, so the guy could get a good look. “When I hear the word no, my trigger finger gets itchy.” He tapped his index finger on the trigger guard of his gun for emphasis. “Makes me want to hurt the people who say it.” Marco took a few steps back and pointed his gun at the guy’s foot. “Wonder how long it would take for your shoulders to dislocate if I shoot off your toes.”

“Wh… wh… what?”

Marco raised his brows. “Fair warning, I don’t like repeating myself, either.”

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