Page 3 of Sweet Retribution

“Fuck. Get me to the house. Now.” I rush to the helicopter, and in seconds, we’re in the air.

My pilot lands us as close as he can, and Marco is waiting by with a car. I don’t have to tell him to push the Bentley as fast as it will go. He knows. He does.

I’ve trained hard to control my breathing and my reactions, but no training has ever prepared me for this. Marco kicks open the door to the house, both our guns drawn.

My people have reported no movement inside for the past three hours. The shades are drawn in the living room and kitchen. I move down the hall and Marco steps into the bathroom, finding nothing.

There’s only one door in the short hall. The smell is rancid. I brace myself for what I might find. Gia’s corpse, abused and mutilated. I second guess my ability to go in first. Marco being Marco reads my hesitation.

“Want me to go in first?”

“No.” If Gia is alive, I want to be the first one she sees. I close my eyes and count to three, calming my breath, then kick the door open, aiming my gun at a nearly empty room.

The smell hits me first, then I see a lifeless figure on the bed. The room is dark. I can’t tell if she’s alive or dead. I rush to her side as Marco looks under the bed and in the closet.

“Gia.” I holster my gun and touch her cheek. Warm. Not very, but not cold.

“Fuck,” I hear Marco say behind me. He leaves and the hall light comes on, giving me just enough light to take in the scene.

I gag, not from the blood and feces, but at Gia’s condition. Her wrists and ankles are bound to the four corners of the bed, and she’s laying in a dried pool of blood and waste. She’s thin and pale, with purple half-moon bruises under her lower lashes.

She’s stripped of her clothes, bite marks and blood covering her right breast and nipple. She has bruises on her arm and her left cheek.

“Gia, baby. I’m going to get you out of here.” I pull a knife out of my ankle holster and work on cutting through the ropes around her wrists.

Marco places a blanket over her naked body and works on her ankles. When she’s free of her restraints, I pick up her limp body.

I carry her to the bathroom. Marco turns on the shower and I step in fully clothed, being careful with her burns and cuts and wash as much of the filth off her as I can.

“Marco. Towel.”

He comes back in the bathroom discreetly avoiding looking at Gia’s naked body and takes her from me, wrapping her in the towel like you would a small child. I flip up the drain on the tub and fill it, then strip out of my wet suit.

“Get us clothes while I finish cleaning her. And get Davis.” I don’t need to elaborate. I trust Marco will fill the doctor in. I find a washcloth in the cabinet and put it by the tub, then take Gia from him and carefully settle in the warm water.

Her body is limp as she lays against my torso. I’m careful with her as I wet the washcloth and drizzle water across her marked torso. She doesn’t react but her nipples pucker. It’s not sexual. I’m not hard like I was last week when we fucked in her bathtub.

The rage boiling inside me settles while I focus on caring for Gia. I have to concentrate on her and not all the ways I plan on making Antonio pay for what he’s done to her or the final torture I have in store for Lorenzo.

The selection of soap and shampoo is limited. Only one bottle that claims it’s multi-purpose. I squeeze some in my hand and am careful to avoid her obvious cuts as I clean her torso. I put some more on a washcloth and clean between her legs.

She flinches a little. A good sign she’s still alive. Her breathing is slow, but I can see her chest lifting with her breath. The cloth is dark with blood. I rinse it as best I can and continue to clean her.

Gia moves her head to the side. Her neck is long and bare next to my chin. I kiss her temple.

“It’s okay, baby. You’re safe now.”

I take my time making sure I’m gentle with her and wash her hair. It’s challenging in the small tub, but I make it work. I drain the dirty water and run more fresh water as I rinse her hair.

When she’s clean, I cradle her in my arms and am careful as I step out of the tub. I set her on the couch in the barren living room, then go back to the bathroom for more towels. I dry her body, then her hair, then cover her in a blanket.

Once she’s settled, I get a towel for myself and wrap it around my waist. I don’t go back into the bedroom. The blood, the filth, the smell will only enrage me and Gia needs me to be calm for her right now, even though she’s completely out of it.

I search the small kitchen space for food. Finding only leftover condiments in the refrigerator, I go to the cabinet and take out a glass, filling it with water. I kneel in front of Gia and put my arm behind her shoulders, lifting her head while I bring the glass to her lips.

“I need you to drink this, Gia.”

She doesn’t open for me, and the water spills down her chin.

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