Page 4 of Sweet Retribution

“Baby. Open for me.”

Her lashes flutter, and her lids lift slightly before dropping again. “Ro... cco...” She can barely say my name.

“I’m here. You’re safe. I need you to drink some water.” She has to be dehydrated and starving. Her skin is paper-thin and pale, except for the bruises on her cheek and under her eyes.

Her lips separate a fraction giving the water an opening. I pour slowly. Most of the water comes back out, but I watch as her throat bobs while she swallows.

“That’s good. A little more.” I continue to feed her water until Marco lets Davis in.

I pay the doctor well to be at my beck and call. I don’t need him often, and when I do he doesn’t ask questions other than what the symptoms are and what I want him to do.

“I’m guessing she hasn’t had anything to eat or drink in four days. Her wrists and ankles need inspecting. And...” I look down at her frail body, covered in the quilt. “Do a rape check.”

I stand and take the bag Marco holds out for me, dropping my towel, not caring about my nakedness, and blindly dressing in the jeans and T-shirt he bought. The house is in the middle of bumfuck. I don’t know and don’t care where he got the clothes.

I take out the woman’s black sweatpants and sweatshirt he got for Gia, once again grateful for Marco. When this is over, I'll give him a raise. Buy him a fucking jet. Whatever the man wants, he’ll get.

I hover over Gia and Davis, my arms folded tight across my chest as I watch him inspect and treat her more obvious wounds.

“Do you suspect head trauma?” Davis runs his hands over Gia’s scalp.

“Not that I could tell.” There were no welts or bumps that I noticed when washing her hair.

“I’ll start an IV to replenish her fluids.” He hooks her up to an IV then lowers the blanket revealing her marked chest.

Marco steps outside and I watch him parole the yard. Davis moves Gia’s thighs apart as he inspects between her legs. I turn to the kitchen and stare out over the backyard as he evaluates her.

If Antonio raped her.Fuck.I clench my fists by my side. If he impregnated her... I won’t ask her permission. I’ll tell Davis to take care of it. There’s no way I’ll let her carry that bastard’s child.

I imagine Gia’s belly swollen with child. Not Rossi’s.Mine.

Fuck.I don’t want a kid either. I’m sure to fuck up his or her life. I don’t know anything about kids. About parenting. About relationships.

And then I picture a little girl with Gia’s eyes and smart mouth. She’d give us a run for our money.

Us.

“Cazzo,” I mutter under my breath. There is nous.I forced her to marry me so I can have access to the Parisi grounds. So I can avenge my family’s deaths. We’re not married because we want to be together. Not because of love. Not because of any kind of attachment.

I hear Davis clearing his throat behind me. I turn and see Gia covered in the quilt again. My stomach is tense. Raw. I fixate my stare on Davis, reading his stoic expression, his hunched shoulders. His news isn’t good.

I brace myself for what he’s about to tell me. I lock my jaw careful to show no emotion.

“I don’t see any sign of infection yet on her wrists or ankles, but I gave her an antibiotic just in case.”

He’s avoiding it. It’s not the cuts I’m most concerned about. I wait as he lifts his gaze to mine.

“Marco told me about the blood. I see no signs of... trauma. It seems she is at the end of her menstrual cycle. The bruising on her ribs and the mark by her breast will heal on their own. If she has discomfort from them or anywhere else, she can take one of these every four hours.”

He hands me a bottle of pills. I take them and put them in my pocket without reading the label. I don’t ask questions. I don’t thank him, even though I should. If I speak, he’ll hear my fear. Hear my gratitude. Hear the crack in my voice.

“If she needs another bag of fluids, let me know. If it’s only been four days, the one should be sufficient though.”

Onlyfour days. Four days of fucking hell.

Davis gives me a quick nod and exits. Alone again, I crouch by Gia and smooth her hair away from her face. I pick up her hand, small and delicate in mine. Her wrists are wrapped in white gauze.

I give myself a few moments to catch my breath and gather my thoughts, then find Marco outside.

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