Page 31 of Hunted Vengeance

I don’t even have to ask who is on the other side. I can tell by the knock that it’s Marcello. Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I force myself to sit up and then to stand. I feel like I only slept a few hours as I shuffle toward the door and roughly tug it open.

I’m not surprised to find Marcello. That’s who I thought was there as much as I was hoping it could possibly be Merrick because, in a dreamworld, that’s exactly who would be behind this door.

“What does he want now?” I ask.

I make a show of being sleepy, fake yawning and everything. Marcello rolls his eyes to the ceiling, no doubt realizing that I’m over all this shit because he is, too. I keep waiting for the day when he’s going to just throw me out the window, out of a car, something so that he can say I’m dead and gone. That way, he never has to deal with this shit again—or me.

As robotic as possible, he answers me. “You need to get dressed and come downstairs. They are waiting for you.”

I’m filled with an impending doom. My stomach twists, it turns, it flops around, and I wonder why I didn’t jump out of that window and chase after Merrick when I had the chance.

Chapter Thirteen

COLETTE

Marcello doesn’t even lookme in the eyes. He stands across from me, but he’s not seeing me at all. Instead, his gaze is directed over my shoulder. He knows my fate, and he’s not telling me.

“I didn’t know you hated me,” I whisper.

Marcello must hate me if he’s okay with sending me wherever I’m going, no doubt knowing that it’s going to be pure hell. He shakes his head, reaching for my hand. He doesn’t hold me, not that I would necessarily want him to anyway. Instead, his fingers curl around my wrist before he tugs me against his chest.

“I don’t hate you, but it’s time for you to go.”

There it is—the truth of it all. I was supposed to be taken away to unknown destinations this afternoon, but it’s only eight in the morning, and now it’s all of a sudden time for me to go, right now.

Something is happening. I may never know what it is, but something is going on, and it has to do with me, Malcolm, those people who were here yesterday, or with my father… maybe even all of the above.

Opening my mouth, I start to ask him some more questions, but I snap my lips closed and decide against it. It doesn’t matter—nothing does.

Marcello dips his chin, taking a step backward as he releases his grasp on my wrist. I tell him that I’ll be ready in just a few minutes. It doesn’t take me long. I’ve already showered the sex smell from my body.

I dress in a pair of leggings, throw on a tank top before I slip on a sweater, and then tug a pair of boots on. If I look crazy, well, then I look crazy. I don’t care. Wherever I’m going, I know without a doubt it’s not to a fashion show.

A few moments later, Marcello is dragging my luggage down to the main room of the house, and I’m hesitantly descending the stairs behind him. I watch as he stops when he’s in the middle of the foyer, and I hesitantly stand just a few feet away from him.

When he speaks, my whole body jerks because he says something I’m not expecting. “You want me to fight for you, Colette? I will.”

It would be sweet if I didn’t already know that his words could send him straight to his death and possibly me, too. Shaking my head, I don’t verbalize anything because I know that we’re being recorded and observed right now, probably for scientific purposes if I had to guess.

My father does love to pick people apart. He likes to know how they think so he can anticipate their next move and stay one step ahead of them at all times.

“No,” I exhale. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me, Marcello, but your watch is over.”

He winces at my words. No doubt they mean more to him than even me at this point, considering he clearly knows what I’m about to walk into. It would be fruitless if I went with him. I know I don’t feel anything for him at all. Marcello could rescue me right now and be my knight in shining armor, but I would still ask where Merrick is and how to get to him.

It’s just who I am now—Merrick’s woman. I can’t change that. I am part of Merrick, and he is part of me. I fell in love with him the moment I laid eyes on him in the formal receiving area. I fantasized about him while he measured and worked throughout the house, and I selfishly threw myself at him.

“You just say the word, Colette.”

Giving him a watery smile, I thank him for his help and support during all of this, and before anything else can be said, my father appears. I don’t straighten my spine at the sight of him, but I swear Marcello whimpers.

That right there tells me all I need to know. Marcello might be trying to be a good person, but when push comes to shove, he won’t make it five minutes. I’ve seen enough of my father’s men through the years to know when someone has the moxie to stand up to them or not. Like me? I do not. Merrick, he does.

“The car is here, Colette,” my father murmurs as he emerges from the hallway. His office is down that hall, and I’m sure he’s been sitting in there watching everything, just like I anticipated he would be. “Marcello will load up your bags. Let’s go,” he continues.

He shifts his elbow toward me, and I almost tell him that I don’t need his help, but I decide against it, mainly because I don’t need to witness another temper tantrum in my presence for as long as I live.

A few moments later, all my bags are loaded into the trunk, and I am ushered into the back seat of the black car. I watch from the window as my father says something to Marcello. He dips his chin in acknowledgment, but I notice how he flicks his eyes at me. I don’t know if either of them can actually see me through the dark tint, but I assume they can.

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