Page 193 of Phantom Mine

I stand, carrying her with me in my arms. She slides her body gently down mine as her feet search for the floor.

“It was Guido,” she explains.

Anger rises swiftly inside me and my features darken past the color of the toxic smoke. “I know. Where is he?”

“I don’t know,” she admits. “All I remember is him punching me unconscious. When I woke up, I was tied to the chair and he ran off shortly after that.”

There’s an ear splitting noise and then the far wall starts to collapse. The flames appear and multiply before our eyes.

I rip the wet t-shirt off from my neck and tie it over Valentina’s face the same way I’d covered mine. Her hands come up to touch it as she looks worriedly back up at me.

“What about you?” she asks, concern thick in her partially smothered voice.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me,” I assure her. Taking her hand in mine, I tug her after me. “Come on, we have to get out of here.”

When we emerge back into the hallway, she screams and places her body protectively in front of mine.

The flames are everywhere.

They’ve taken over the entire end of the hallway, forcing us deeper into the club. We have no choice but to go up, going further into the building that’s burning down around us.

They billow up to the ceiling, searching for more, monstrous in their greed. More to consume, more to destroy.

Valentina screams in terror. I glance down at her to find her panicked eyes already pinned on mine.

“You shouldn’t have come for me!” she cries.

The flames reflect brightly in her eyes, burnishing the hazel until the flecks of gold look like they’re also burning.

“I’ll get us out of here,” I yell over the sounds of the fire and the jets of water. “I promise.”

Chapter Fifty-Three

Valentina

The fire is horrifying. There’s no other word for it.

It surges forward like the wave of a tsunami, growing and looming as it bears down on us. Except unlike a tsunami, it’s coming at us from all sides.

We have no choice but to stumble and go deeper inside. My brain is yelling at me that this is wrong, that I’m sealing myself further into what’s going to end up being my tomb, but I ignore the voice.

I follow after Matteo.

He clutches my hand in his as we run down the hallway, his fingers strong and solid around mine. Looking at him, you wouldn’t believe that he’s pyrophobic. His features are set, his steps confident and determined as he runs. And yet, I know a look at his insides would tell a very different story.

When I first regained consciousness, Guido was pacing manically before me. His hands were shoved into his hair and pulling at the strands. His steps were frenzied as he went back and forth and back and forth in front of me.

When he’d noticed I was awake, he’d stopped in front of me, pulled the gag down, and fisted my hair. I yelped as he yanked my head back by my hair, forcing my neck into an unnatural position.

“Why couldn’t you mind your fucking business, bitch?”

“What did you do to Adriana?” I’d demanded.

His response had been to slap me across the face. This time, I screamed.

“Shut the fuck up. All of you whores are the same, always running your fucking mouths.”

He held my phone in his hand and turned it to show me a picture. It was of me, probably minutes prior. Tied up and unconscious, as still as a dead body. I could have passed for one.

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