Page 37 of Ludovico's Vengeance

“Michael, why am I here?” It’s the first time I've ever heard the tiger refer to me by name. My God the sound of my name on her lips, my cock is weeping. Christ.

I lower my gaze to her, narrowing my eyes. When I saw her at the book shop with Nina, two things went through my mind. First, I can’t leave Nina without a support system and second, I can’t leave without knowing Brittany is safe. That is where I fucked up, because now, I won’t let the woman out of this house until I know everything is settled and she’ll be alright on her own. I don't give a shit who her mother is, she’s too important not to look after myself. She has been taunting me every fucking time I’ve seen her. It’s a shock I’ve lasted as long as I have without pulling some stupid shit like this.

“You know exactly why.” I growl as I press her roughly against the wall and lower my lips to hers. My mouth captures hers in a possessive manner as I kiss the shit out of her. She melts into me, her fingers tangle in my short mane and she tugs as she tries to take control, which would normally lead to me turning a woman around and fucking her from behind against a wall, but I don’t have that kind of time, and I need time to explore Brittany’s body. A quickie in the middle of a hall when we’re both stressed over Johnny’s disappearance isn’t the fucking time. I groan and pull away before I retreat to the office.

Milo is pacing the length of the room when I enter, his anxiety is rolling off him in waves. Ignoring him, I take a seat behind the desk and boot up the computer. I pull up several of the programs a tech wiz we’ve used in the past for hits we couldn’t be associated with provided for us. Once it’s up, I type in the information to load all security camera feeds at and near the parking garage where we found Danny’s body. Now, it’s a waiting game.

“I swear to God, you fucking pain in my ass, if you don’t take a god damn Xanax and sit the fuck down, I’m going to kill you before Johnny gets a chance to do so for fucking Vanna.” I snarl at Milo who is still wearing a dent into the hardwood floors.

The heat of his angry glare on the side of my face pulls my eyes away from the computer.

“She’ll never forgive you if you are too worried about her to get him back. Get your shit together and let’s do this.” I stare at the kid I've trained to replace me when the time comes. He’s nowhere near ready when this is his initial reaction.

Tens of thousands of images load from the area. Given it’s city fucking hall, I'm not shocked. It takes Milo and I hours to review everything that has come up. I’m confused with what I see in some of the images, but the final location is exactly what I’d expect.

We’ve been waiting for nearly fifteen hours for visual confirmation. The cell phone ringing in my pocket pulls me from my task at hand. The task being pulling my hair out with fucking worry. I drag the device out and place it on the desk before swiping to answer. Once the call is placed on speaker, I speak.

“What?” I growl to the person on the other end.

“Confirmed with visual and thermal imaging. He’s in Barone’s basement.” Abel’s calm voice sounds from the other end of the phone.

Flashes of memories continue to flicker through my mind. Beating after beating, any time I upset or inconvenienced the man that kept me isolated in the smallest of ways. They wouldn’t even feed me properly, just enough to keep me alive. The knowledge I have now after my time training with Giovanni and Michael, I know that they made me work out so that I’d be too weak to try to fight back.

I feel the scream barreling up my throat only to get stuck. Nothing will come out; I’m lost so deeply in my own thoughts that my surroundings are a blur. Tears have been streaming down my cheeks since Michael told me he’s missing, and I haven’t been able to speak.

Anger radiates through my tiny frame when I realize that I've shrunk back into myself just like I had back then, when I was with them. The bed dips and I feel the presence of someone else near me, but I can’t focus. My emotions are in a frenzy as I feel a soft cold hand cover my own. The cool skin against mine is enough to pull me from my thoughts, the darkness that I have been engulfed in begins to fade and I register Vanna.

Large red rimmed chocolate eyes that resemble his, stare at me through her own tears. She squeezes my hand tight as she places her other palm against my cheek, her concern for me as clear as her concern for her son. My shoulders begin to tremble as I let out a broken sob, one that has been building for too long.

“Sweetheart,” the nurturing voice I know and love so much calls for my attention. “He needs you, I need you.” She continues as she clasps both hands around mine. The anguish in her voice has my heart clenching. She continues with a hysterical sob, “He’s been through more than one person should. He probably hasn’t even told you because he’s buried it for so long.”

My eyes don’t leave Vanna as she takes deep steadying breaths before continuing. I’ve never seen this woman look so broken or vulnerable. It’s unnerving, and I hate everything about it.

“He doesn’t know that I know Frederico forced him to kill my late husband. I planned to run, but the moment I put that plan into action Frederico was there.” Vanna scoffs as she relives the memory. “He knew somehow and told me he would kill me if I tried to take his grandson. If I'd ‘act up’ he would threaten to hurt my Giovanni. Michael is the only one who could keep him from hurting either of us.” Her confession breaks a piece of me while emboldening another. “Nina, you are the only one who can bring him back. Bring my Giovanni home, please.”

It’s as if Willow Rosenburg had just finished the spell to bring forth all of the potential Slayers when Brittany made me watch Buffy. I feel a sudden confidence and strength I didn’t think I would ever possess. My arms fold around Vanna briefly before I release her and rush to where the men are holed up.

Hushed voices sound on the other side of the door when I approach Giovanni’s office. I shove the door open not giving a single fuck about what they’re talking about. When no less than six guns are pulled on me, I should be shocked or even scared. A normal person would be, right? Instead, I shrug my shoulders and stand in front of the desk with my spine straight. The men holster their weapons and go back to what they were doing when they realize I'm not a threat. At least not to them.

“What do you know?”

Michael glances back up from a blueprint with a cocked brow. “What do you mean?”

I feel the blood in my veins boil at his ridiculous question.

“You know damn well what I mean, Michael. Who has him and when do we leave to get him?” I snarl out my response.

Milo shoots up to his full height with a panicked look on his face. He glances between the men and me before he speaks.

“Uhhhh - Nina, you’re not going anywhere. He’ll kill us if you get hurt!” he stammers out his objection.

An unfamiliar maniacal laughter bubbles up from my chest.

“And you don’t think I’ll kill you if you don’t let me in there?” My gaze must show the fire inside me when I speak. “Talk to Michael, he’s been training me. If we had time, I’d prove it to you and lay your ass out right here.” I motion to the floor in front of the desk. “But we don’t and I’m not going to let anything more than what’s already happened to him be done. So, I ask again. What. Do. You. Know?” I speak the question slowly, every word enunciated well enough that they understand just how serious I am.

The woman who stands before me is a stranger. I blink rapidly as I take in the reflection of the girl I used to be. I’m dressed in the sweatshirt and pants I haven’t worn since the day I arrived here. Pride fills me at the realization that I'm not swimming in the material as I had before as I'm finally at a healthy weight. I take a deep breath before I leave the safety of our room to meet the men. The decision to leave while the rest of the house is still asleep was Michael’s. He knows no one would let me out of the house if they had an inkling of what I was going to do.

Our drive to my childhood home feels like it takes twice as long as the first trip to the Ludovico’s home was. My heart sinks as I recall that drive, Danny was the one behind the wheel. The memory only serves to add fuel to the anger that is already coursing through my veins.

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