Page 67 of Covert
I grip Angelo’s hand tighter. "It's okay. I'm a lot stronger today than I was as a kid. Don't hold back. I can take it."
He doesn't reply. We both know it's going to be bad.
And while I'm stronger than I was back then, the sight of my father standing in the doorway, smug smile on his face, still causes dread to form heavily in my stomach.
Chapter forty
Beckett
Maddox's idea isn't bad, and after the grief and self-pity faded, I knew I had the biggest clue to where she was and what we could do for her in my bedroom. We race home on our bikes, and I take the stairs two at a time. Maddox notices my urgency and follows me, hoping for any clues. Someone texted Diesel because he showed up a few minutes later, dumping his bike in the grass and trailing behind us.
"What happened?!" he shouts, more anxiety than anger in his voice.
"Whoever she was running from found her. She went with them willingly. She's the fucking missing mafia princess."
"What? Mafia? What the fuck?" Diesel parrots back, as they trail behind me, hot on my heels.
I press through the door to my bedroom and scoop up her notebook.
"What's that?" Maddox asks.
"It's her notebook. She said that there was enough information in here to put her away for three lifetimes. Now I guess we know she wasn't lying."
I sit on my bed and flip it open, starting at the beginning. And like she's sitting next to me, I read the words in her voice. It's not much at first. She writes about packing her backpack and hiding it in the garden. She writes about how she snuck out into the garden while her dad was at an event, dug her tracker out of her neck, retrieved the bag, and jumped the wall.
I don't even try to stop the tears as they streak down my face. Her diary is a horror story, featuring my favorite person in the world. She talks about how her first landlord made her give him hand jobs in exchange for a room. Then, when she'd saved up enough money by begging, she cut his dick off in the middle of the night and ran.
She talks about getting jumped by a homeless man who took her first backpack, and joining a BJJ school afterwards. She talks about how much she misses her brother and how she wondered all the time if running away was worth it. But the alternative - they were going to marry her to a man more than twice her age - Vitale. The same Vitale who was recently murdered. Vitale's reputation for drugs, alcohol, and abusing women spurred her and her brother into devising an escape plan. She would have been a sex slave. Or worse.
Its names, locations, and phone numbers are written and then scratched through. When my heart finally caves in on itself and I can't stand to read another word, I give it to Axel. He'll be able to take the information in it and maybe find some sort of ties to her. Now that we have her full name, though, maybe he doesn't need the journal.
I give it to him anyway. Axel, Maddox, and Diesel all take turns reading through it. Dread blanketing them like a shadow. It was all so much worse than we could have ever imagined for her. And we failed her. Her father is going to beat her, punish her for running and daring a chance at a life. Maybe she was being beaten right now. How far would he take it? Will he try to marry her off again? How were we ever going to get her back? We don't have the army that we would need to storm her father's mansion.
We're just four men.
Four, completely heartbroken, men.
Chapter forty-one
Nikki
My beating wasn't terrible. Dear old daddy took a belt to the back of my thighs and shoulders until he physically couldn't anymore. Then he made my brother take over. Poor Angelo. I know it killed him to have to do that to me, but if he had pulled any of his strength, Father would've noticed, and the next part of our plan would be ruined. It had hurt, sure, and I cried out, satisfying his sadistic heart, but it didn't compare to the hurt in my heart.
He knew he had to torture me in a way that wouldn't scar me and devalue me for a potential partner. Which is how I know he plans to sell me again. If I had to guess, to Vitale's son. Angelo told me that the senior Vitale was killed by a curvy housewife named Hannah, who was the woman of the Colombian mafia that Vitale Sr was stupid enough to kidnap. Good for her.
Now, I'm in the dark. This section of our basement is completely pitch black. It's designed to make people go insane. Without any ambient light, your brain starts to invent things - shapes, shadows, lights. After enough time in pitch black, even the strongest people will break. And that's what he's trying to do to me. Get me to break, mentally, into submission. Most people start to experience derealization or dissociation, collapsing in on themselves mentally.
Most people break after three days.
With no way to tell time, I don't know how long I've already been in here. And before, I would have already broken, but I had a secret weapon now.
My guys.
In my mind, I'm riding on the back of Diesel's bike as we drive across the Chesapeake Bay to Kent Island. I'm curled up on his lap in front of his cabin, naked, and wrapped in a blanket as we watch the fire crackle at night.
I'm in the kitchen with Beckett, cooking our favorite meals while flirting, or I'm reliving that night that I took his virginity.
I'm curled up with Axel in his chair, or laughing at his adorably goofy grin, which he gets when he's trying to be sexy for social media.
