Page 79 of Burning Beauty

Nic hammered his fist through the bar top, shattering the frosted glass, then fell to his knees. He reached for one of the bottles that had fallen to the floor, uncaring what is was and drank deeply. Alcohol and rage mixed while he waited for news. He made it through a quarter of the bottle when his phone finally rang. He lunged for it.

"Yes," he barked.

"They think they found the other girl, Lucy Miller," Luke informed him.

"I don’t give a fuck about the other girl," Nic snarled, gripping the phone so hard it should have cracked. "Talk to me about Maria."

"I’m coming to pick you up. If this Lucy bitch is alive, she probably knows where Maria is."

Nic grunted and hung up the phone. Luke was right. He needed to use his head and save his rage for the people who deserved it. Because if he didn’t get the right answers from Lucy Miller and the Sitnikovs he was going to burn this city to the ground with everyone in it.

Chapter Forty-Four

They were in the air for an hour, but the time passed in the blink of an eye for Maria. She felt so sick and off balance that she was sure she was drifting in and out of consciousness. Ronson had dumped her in a seat near the back of the plane and proceeded to ignore her, cramming his bulk into a seat up front. Clearly, he didn't consider her much of a danger or he would know better than turn his back on an enemy. Maria wasn't in a position to do more than puke on him.

The trip to Franco's casino was unmemorable, as in Maria didn't remember a thing. If she hadn't felt so shitty she might be truly worried about whatever that punch to the head did to her. Her vision was wonky and every time she blinked the scenery whirled, like she was swimming through it. Every breath she took felt like shards of glass being embedded in her brain. She wanted nothing more than to sleep. Were people with concussions supposed to sleep? She tried to remember but couldn't.

"Hey, Ronson," she mumbled to the man who was accompanying her up to Franco's suite. "You want to check on your phone and see if people with concussions should sleep?"

He gave her a long look that said 'fuck off' pretty eloquently.

Maria was slumped into the corner of the elevator, leaning against the railing for balance. "Okay, well if I die, then you get to explain to the boss what happened." She paused to let that sink in. "And I don't mean Franco, he's a pussy cat compared to Niccolo DeLuca. When Nic finds out you let his woman die under your watch, there won't be anywhere on this planet that's far enough for you to hide."

Ronson grunted, his face flashing a second of fear before he pulled his phone out.

"Says here it's a myth that someone with a concussion can't sleep. Apparently sleep will help heal the brain, but a loved one should check on you often to make sure there are no signs of brain damage. Signs may include a seizure or stroke."

He looked at her expectantly. She rolled her eyes. "I guess you're my loved one now until you idiots are ready to pass me back to Nic. Because I intend to sleep the second I can find a bed and I'll need you to check on me every hour on the hour. Okay, big guy?"

He grunted and refocused his eyes on the door as if willing them to open so he could escape this conversation. Honestly, the man really was too stupid to live. She was beginning to see why all of Franco's big plans were so badly executed.

Seconds later the elevator arrived at the penthouse. Ronson exited, leaving Maria to make her way painfully into the suite. She reached out for the kitchen island, hanging on for dear life as the room swam around her. Maria had been on the run for so long that going to a hospital hadn't even occurred to her until this moment, but she realized that was exactly what she needed.

"My sweet little Maria made it back home to her original keeper."

Franco's voice sounded right next to her, so unexpected that Maria jumped, jarring her head bad enough that she nearly passed out again. She gripped the counter hard and slid down into a crouch. Franco was either too stupid to notice her distress, or too wrapped up in his own victory to care. He put a hand on the back of her neck and crouched next to her.

"You were a bad little girl, Maria, but now you've come home, and I'll take good care of you," he murmured in her ear.

Maria gagged as his hot breath touched her head and she tried to slide sideways away from him. His grip on her neck tightened and pain shot through her head making her cry out.

"You need to be real nice to me, I hold your life in my hands. I'm willing to keep you for a while if you're good to me." When she didn't respond, he gave her a little shake. "Fuck, I gotta be better than that devil you been shacking up with. I'll treat you real good."

When he shook her, Maria's whole world tilted and she felt like she was losing her balance, she reached out, groping for something to hang onto. She grabbed hold of the front of Franco's shirt and then her supper finally came rushing up in a hot mess, landing on him and the floor. He was so surprised he didn't react at first but then he yelled and shoved her away. Maria fell backwards on her ass and then slumped to the floor, cradling her head in her arms.

"What the fuck!" Franco snarled. "What's wrong with her?"

"Got hit on the head," Ronson muttered, lowering himself into a crouch next to Maria. She felt his cool hand touch her throat and search around. Was he looking for a pulse? She wanted to call out his idiocy, tell him that she was clearly still alive since she was currently moaning in pain, but she was having trouble stringing together words.

"Bed," she managed to say, as a wave of blackness hit her.

"Motherfucker!" Franco shouted, making her head feel as if a bell was going off inside.

Ronson picked her up off the floor, tossing her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Going to - !" she didn't get a chance to finish the sentence before she was heaving again, the pain in her head combined with the painful impact of her stomach against his shoulder making it worse. She threw up on the back of his shirt.

Ronson stiffened and she was afraid he was going to drop her on the spot uncaring of doing further damage. He didn't though, he carried her through the penthouse to a bedroom. She couldn't tell what it looked like from her upside-down position, but she could see Franco out of her periphery walking with them.

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