Page 7 of Tortured Hearts
The final remnants of Johnny Malone slip away as I tighten my finger around the trigger. “So is defying a Marchesi.”
Chapter Two
GIANNI
Henry hasn’t spoken a word since the threat of having a bullet rip through his skull caused him to pull a U-turn in the middle of an eight-lane intersection. Not that I blame him. If a man with nothing left to lose held a gun to my head, I’d shut up, too. Besides, the closer we get to Becca’s office building, the more volatile I become.
As soon as I saw those firetrucks, I knew they were for Becca. That’s why the moment I see the black curls of smoke rising above the tree lines, I snap.
“Fuck.Fuck!”
Henry winces, the Glock’s muzzle digging deeper into his temple. “Gianni…”
“Shut up.” I don’t want to hear his voice. I need to think. I need to believe she’s not inside that damn building, and that Henry’s warning isn’t coming to fruition.
“He’s targeted one woman to get your attention. Don’t think he won’t play the same card twice.”
But once our caravan turns into the parking lot, reality sends what little hope I have up in flames, along with what’s left of the building.
“Becca!” I leap from the car and run full sprint toward the blaze. The heat is more than a feeling; it’s a taste and a smell. It slithers over my skin and wraps around my neck.
“Hey, you!” a gruff voice calls out, a stampede of frantic footfalls joining the chase. “Stop!”
But I don’t.I can’t.The only thing on my mind is getting to her, so I let out an inhuman roar as three Providence firefighters tackle me from behind. I try to throw punches while holding onto my gun when a hand clamps around my wrist.
“He’s armed!” one of them shouts, and then my weapon is ripped from my hand.
“Becca Brennan,” I bite out as multiple knees hit my spine. “She works in this building.”
“There’s no one inside the premises, sir.”
“Check again. She always works late.” I lift my head and stare at the familiar Audi A5 tucked away in a far shaded corner of the parking lot. “That’s her car over there.”
“Shit.” The tallest of the three clamors to his feet and instructs the others to keep me down before sprinting toward the fire.
“Return with her,” I say icily in his wake, “or don’t return at all.”
He doesn’t turn around, but judging by his sudden stumble, he heard me.
Eventually, Henry makes his way over from the sidelines where he’s been watching everything unfold. “Gentlemen,” he says, digging in his pocket as he advances. He doesn’t meet my eyes, which is a smart move. Once I’m free,there’s a high probability I’ll rip his lungs out through his nose. He produces a black leather rectangle and flips it open, revealing a badge and ID. “Henry Saddler, United States Marshal.” As the two remaining firefighters inspect his credentials, he nods to where I’m glaring up at him from the asphalt. “This man is under federal protection, so I’d suggest getting off him.”
Saddler?Great. Apparently, he has an alias, too.
I wait for retaliation, but to my surprise, the weight on my back lessens. In half a heartbeat, I’m on my feet, gun in hand, ready to rain hell when a second blast sends black smoke billowing into the air. I turn to find the heart of the building gone. I don’t think about the consequences as I start toward it. “Becca!”
Fuck this. I’m not burying her, too.
Everything around me becomes a blur. Within seconds I’m enveloped by smoke, and in a sick twist of irony, battling inside the belly of my chosen beast. There’s a sharp crack of wood before a support beam snaps in half and crashes inches in front of me. I glance up, my heart plummeting to my feet.Shit.The whole ceiling is an inferno ready to cave in at any moment. I have less than thirty seconds to find her and get out, or we’re both dead.
By the time I reach the second floor, the smoke is so dense I’m operating on pure memory. My eyes burn, my vision registering nothing but blurred, distorted shapes.
“Becca?”Silence.A flame ignites in my chest rivaling the one at my back. It’s a familiar burn I shove behind a thick wall of rage. I understand fury. I know how to appease it. But fear is an unfamiliar feeling. “Becca, answer me, damn it!”
Silence.
Leaning over, I brace my hands on my knees and cough. The more oxygen I drag in, the more my lungs revolt. My head turns to static, and Istumble.
That’s when I see her.
