Page 67 of Twisted Vows

He sneers as his accomplice tries to yank his knife free of the dead man and fails. With emotionless eyes, Narciso shifts the muzzle of his gun to the goon’s temple and pulls the trigger. As brain matter sprays the wall, he returns his aim to my head. The man slumps on top of me, adding more weight to my trapped arms.

“Although, I will admit, you have great taste in broads. Where is that sexy whore of a nurse?”

“I’m here, dipshit!”

Emma emerges from behind the nurse’s station with a rolling chair held over her head in both hands. She throws before fully coming into view.

Narciso’s gun barks. I shout. A wave of desperation lends me the strength of twenty men. I shove the dead bodies off me and surge upright.

In the most terrifying moment of my life, I lunge between Narciso and Emma, but she’s too fast, twisting to avoid my outstretched hand and jabbing a massive needle into each of Narciso’s thighs. She depresses the plungers before grabbing the chair and slamming it down onto him repeatedly.

When she doesn’t stop, I holster my pistol, sheathe my knife, and lift her off her feet with a bear hug from behind. She screamsand jams her heels into my shins until my voice finally breaks through her mania.

“You’re okay,mia caramellina. He’s dead. Calm down,” I murmur against the top of her head.

She goes limp and chokes on a sob.

“I-I’m sorry! I’m gonna—”

Her stomach clenches. I lean her forward just in time to avoid her vomiting all over us. As she retches and shakes in my arms, I stroke her back and murmur nonsense, comforting her as best I can.

She dry heaves before getting herself under control and accepting the tissues I snag from the nurse’s station.

“What do we—”

Her eyes widen and she stops mid-question when she notices the pregnant woman.

She snaps from overwhelmed first-time killer to first responder in less than a heartbeat.

I let her rush to the pregnant woman and pull out my phone as I limp behind her. A few words later, and I know my men will clean things up before the police arrive.

The pregnant woman rouses and clutches her head.

“No, don’t sit up. Just breathe,” Emma says.

“It’s time to go,mia caramellina,” I say.

She swings mutinous eyes at me, but her countenance morphs into alarm.

“That can’t be all your blood. Where are you hurt?”

Despite the pain pulsing through me, my cock hardens as she gives me her full attention. I pull her flush against me and fight the urge to kiss her, aware she’d most likely bite my tongue off if I tried.

“It’s nothing serious. We need to leave,” I say.

She pushes and twists out of my arm. I hiss as pain shoots up and down my arm.

“Fine. Let me grab a few things, then we can go.”

I reach for her, but she disappears inside the supply closet. My vision doubles. Shaking my head proves to be a mistake. I steel my spine and step toward the closet.

She returns with two bags full of supplies.

I stare in shock as she weaves her fingers into mine and tugs me toward the door. She leans over the partition to the nurse’s station and snags an open bottle off the desk.

“Drink this. Now.”

I didn’t think it was possible, but I fall more in love with her as she mumbles obscenities under her breath about big bad mafia men needing to be rescued.

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