Page 93 of The One Night Match
A sharp pain radiates across my cheek, but it takes a moment for me to realize I’ve been hit.
“Shut the fuck up!”
“Get the fuck off me!” I yell, thrashing my body beneath his, even though it’s useless. I just have to distract him for long enough for Cruz to get to me.
Everything will be okay if I can just hold on a little while longer.
FORTY-NINE
CRUZ
The first time I hear her voice, I think I’m hallucinating.
I haven’t eaten anything in over eighteen hours, and it’s been at least that long since I had any water. Add the blistering cold, pouring rain, and constant panic beating down on my chest, and you have a perfect storm for my imagination to run rampant.
But then I hear her again. I know Riley is close.
Hugo and Davis sprint beside me, all three of us falling into line as we slip and slide down a short hill, listening intently for her screams.
I hate the idea that she’s hurt or in danger, but right now it’s bringing me closer to her, and that’s what I keep telling myself.
We pause at the bottom of the hill, listening for voices until Riley cries out again. We take off toward her screams with my heart in my throat.
What if we’re too late?
What if we don’t make it in time?
We break through into a small clearing leading to a steep decline into the ravine that runs through the property, and find Jeremy holding Riley against his front, one arm banded around her middle and the other holding a gun to her head.
Monica stands a few feet away, a look of annoyance and victory on her face as she watches us spread around the edge of the trees, making it impossible for them to leave without going through us.
My focus snaps back to Riley, cheeks covered with a mixture of rain and tears as her entire body trembles.
Her legs are cut up and bruised, her feet caked with blood and dirt.
Every so often, she presses her eyes closed for a moment, grappling for composure in a time that she shouldn’t need to have any.
I take a step forward, and then another, as my mask slips into place. The cold, unfeeling Mafia boss pushes to the surface, even as the terrified husband fights for prevalence.
“Jeremy Moretti, I presume,” I say evenly.
He nods once. “I wish I could say it’s a pleasure, De Luca, but that would be a lie.”
I chuckle, but there’s little humor in the sound. “Likewise.” I pause in the center of the clearing to ensure he doesn’t feel caged in, because there’s no telling what he’ll do if he is. “How about you let Riley go, and we can talk about this like men.”
Targeting his masculinity is a risk, but it’s my best play right now, because the reality is, it doesn’t matter which approach I go with. It’s going to come with its own set of risks.
He presses the barrel harder to Riley’s head, and she whimpers. “I have nothing to say to you, De Luca. This is between me and your whore of a wife.”
Riley flinches at the word but remains perfectly still aside from that. Even from where I’m standing, I can see how much she’s struggling. To stand, to breathe, to hold herself together. But she does it, and I’ve never been so fucking proud of anyone in my life.
I nod slowly, flicking my eyes to Monica to ensure she’s not moving before I take another careful step forward. “You lost everything after Riley accused you of hurting her.” It’s not a question but the version of the truth he sees.
The reality is a whole other can of worms that I have no chance of reasoning with him about. In his mind, Riley lied to him, he punished her for those transgressions, and then he was kicked out of the family, missing out on his legacy to become the leader when his father retired. In his head, Riley is to blame for everything that’s gone wrong in his life, and it doesn’t matter how much rationale to the contrary you throw at him. He’s not going to see it that way.
“Everyone turned on me because of her!” he shouts.
“So if that’s the case, why do you want her now? Shouldn’t you never want to see her again?”
