Page 16 of Love Without Control

He backed out of the room, closing the door silently behind him, and I rubbed my hands up and down my bare arms, suddenly chilled now that I was alone. Muffled voices carried from the back door.

“You need help getting the money out of your car?”That must be the guard.

“Actually, Ethan asked me to come get you. He said he needs to talk to you about something.”

Lumbering footsteps plodded against the floor outside the room I was standing in. “Huh. What’s he need?”

“Not sure. He’s in this room.”

I had a moment of panic, thinking he was going to bring the guard in here, but I calmed once I heard them enter the room across the hall from me. Though I knew it was coming, I startled at the muffled gunshot and the subsequent sound of the guard’s heavy body hitting the floor.

Jesus, how is this my life?It was like I was in a movie. Kidnappings and shootings and big, dark strangers coming to the rescue.

My breath stalled in my lungs when the door opened, suddenly afraid Damiano was the one who’d been shot and the guard was coming for me. But it was the agent in question who opened the door and gestured for me to follow him. He’d thankfully closed the door across the hall so I didn’t have to see yet another dead body tonight. Nope. I’d seen enough corpses in the past ten minutes to last me a lifetime.

“Come on, Evie. It’s safe now.”

Safe.It was a single syllable, but after what I’d been through, it was the most profound word I think I’d ever heard in my life. My throat burned with so many emotions as we exited the house into the muggy night.Free. I’m free.And that was synonymous withsafein my mind.

I gritted away the tears threatening to spill down my face and limped toward the black sedan parked behind the house. Both of my knees were skinned from my fall when I’d stupidly tried to run with my legs shackled, but the left one seemed to have taken the brunt of the impact. It hurt like hell.

Damiano opened the passenger door for me, his eyes darting around before he went back to the porch and retrieved something from the wooden box there. Another gun.

“You’re awfully shooty,” I told him when he slid into the driver's seat, and he glanced over at me in bemusement.

“I’mshooty?”

God, what am I saying?This man just rescued me from the most horrible fate I could have imagined, and all I could come up with was:You’re awfully shooty?

I hastily corrected myself. “Not that I’m complaining. At all. I’m just not used to…” My voice shook, and I pressed my lips together to try and get myself under control. “Thank you,” I whispered, meeting his brown eyes in the darkness.

“Don’t thank me,” he said gruffly, turning away and starting the vehicle. “You were limping. Do you need a doctor?”

“N-no. Just some scrapes.” The reality of being free was starting to sink in, and my hands began to shake, so I stuffed them beneath my thighs. “Can I use your phone to call my family?”

He glanced over at me before circling the car around and pulling up to an iron gate. “Not tonight. We have to get to the safe house.”

I tried to cover my disappointment. All I wanted was to talk to my dad and my brothers. Hell, I’d even like to speak to my bitchy mother at this point. Anyone from home. My nerves settled at yet another four letter word:home.

Safe. Free.

Home.

My eyes darted around as we pulled out onto a quiet street. “Where are we? Not still in Cancún, right?” We’d driven for a long time, me and the other girls practically suffocating in the narrow space in the back of that truck. Just the thought of it almost gave me a panic attack.

Damiano’s full lips pulled up on one side. “No, New Orleans.”

More relief flooded my veins. I was back in the United States. “Is it okay if I open the window? I want to breathe the outside air.”

“Of course,” he said, and I pressed the button to lower my window a few inches, closing my eyes and taking in the scent of freedom. And something sweet. Probably beignets. My stomach growled in response.

A few minutes later, I opened my eyes when I felt the car slow and turn. We were in the parking lot of a fast-food burger place. My stomach came to life once again, making a noise like an angry bear.

“Burger and fries okay?” the man beside me asked, and I’d never felt more grateful. I seriously could have kissed him just then.

“Yes, please.” I gestured at my very skimpy dress. “I obviously don’t have any cash on me.”

He shook his head as he pulled up to the speaker and rolled down his window. “Don’t worry about that. What do you want to drink?”

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