Page 6 of Sworn to Revenge
I quickly slip into the underwear and long dress Alin left for me behind our usual rock at the beach, where we always return home. The early morning is still quiet, no one around, and I take a deep breath of the sea breeze, letting it calm my nerves and soften my thoughts.
“Where are they?” I murmur. I have no idea how to walk back from here, and I can’t wait to tell Alin what her mother’s been planning—or to show off my mark.
I settle into the sand and peek inside the sack I brought, sorting through all the gems. A shiny pink pearl catches my eye, bringing up memories I’d rather not revisit.
“You have to learn to fight back,” I say to Elyr, who’s been wincing in painfor the last half hour as I patch her injuries with seaweed and sea slime to speed the healing. It’s all I have to numb the pain and stop the bleeding when I have to fight for food.
Her heavy sigh, mixed with a pained whimper, makes me shiver. She can’t last a minute in the Cage like this.
“I know, but I’m no match for them. I’m not supposed to be here, Bay. I’m not a traitor, and I’m not a fighter. I have to get out,” she says, her voice barely holding together. I know that feeling too well.
“How old are you?” I try to change the subject. Nothing we say will change anything right now.
“Sixteen,” she replies, and I finish patching the last cut on her back. She turns slightly, wincing. “And you?”
“Twenty,” I force a smile. Someone threw out a sixteen-year-old girl who can barely defend herself, and here I am cursing my parents every day. She must be far more terrified than I am.
“You know what the Cage is?” I ask her. There’s no way I’ll let her go in there unprepar—
“Bay,” Alin’s voice pulls me back to the present, and I look up to see her standing nearby.
“Alin!” I dart forward, pulling her into a hug I’ve needed for days. I missed her. As I let go, I hear footsteps crunching on the sand behind us. I smile even wider when I see the one person I’ve been waiting to see.
I run and jump up, wrapping my arms around his neck. He stiffens alittle as he catches me, barely holding back a smile. Something feels… off.
“I missed you so much,” I say, letting myself savor this moment despite the weird tension. He replies with a flat, “Me too.”
I raise a questioning eyebrow, releasing my hold, but Alin comes over before I can ask more. She waves it off. “Ignore him—he’s in a mood. Some fight with Luca,” she says, rolling her eyes, and hooks her arm through mine.
“What’d you bring back?” she asks, nodding at the big sack I’m carrying.
“Your mother sent some things for you, and I brought some of my treasures.”
She shoots Pedro a pointed look. “You carry that. Bay and I have catching up to do.”
I laugh, but Pedro doesn’t make a single joke or roll his eyes like I expect him to. Not a word.What’s going on?
As we head toward the car, I nudge Alin, “So, what happened with Luca?” She mentions something about Russians and a warehouse, but I can only half-follow the details.
“What about your parents? I’m guessing my mom wasn’t thrilled with your plan?” she finally dares to ask, cautious but curious.
I smile reassuringly. “I’m not made of glass, Alin. If you want to know something, just ask.” She looks apologetic, but I continue, “Your mom was planning her own punishment for them before I even got there.”
Her eyes go wide, and I start filling her in as we settle into the back seat of Pedro’s SUV. He doesn’t say a word the entire drive back, and now my worry starts to settle in.
Pedro
How the hell am I supposed to hold back when she looks at me like that, jumping right into my arms? This is going to be torture, staying this close to her.
She holds onto my arm as we walk into the apartment, and my whole body tenses; I clench my jaw as her sweet sea scent fills the air around us. She looks up at me with that innocent, questioning expression, and it takes everything in me not to meet those purple gem-like eyes. If I did, I might get lost in them. But this isn’t about me. It’s about Bay’s future. I remind myself I can’t break the capo’s command. Fucking hell.
“Your room’s over there.” I gesture toward the guest room at the start of the hallway on the third floor of my apartment.
She shoots me a confused look, letting go of my arm. “Wait. I’m not sleeping with you?”
My body aches at the loss of her touch, but I keep my eyes averted.“Since when do you sleep in my room?” My voice comes out colder than I intend, and I feel the weight of that question hit both of us.
“Am I missing something here? I thought we ha—”
