Page 2 of Unleashed
Anthony stiffens, a dark energy vibrating from him. “Oh, he knows.”
I step back. “What?”
Anthony slides his fingers through his dark brown hair, two lines forming between his brows as he scowls. “He and the entire Del Rossa family know I’m alive, Everly.” I shake my head in disbelief, and he continues. “We’ve been playing cat and mouse for months, ever since I woke up in that hospital, paralyzed but fucking desperate to get to you.”
My breath leaves my lungs. “Paralyzed?”
“The bullet went straight through but nicked a nerve on its way out. Luckily, it was only temporary. With great doctors and a burning determination to save you, all I’m left with is a scar and a limp.”
I glance at his legs, and only then do I see the cane on the floor beside him.That was the thump.
He leans down and picks it up, his hand enclosing the sienna-colored handle, infused with black and amber swirls that create an elegant marble pattern. I’m hardly breathing as I stare at it, the fine silver collar resting between the handle and the dark beechwood shaft of the cane.
“I’m sorry.” It’s the first thing I can think of to say. “I’m so sorry, Anthony, I?—”
“Hey, you have nothing to be sorry for. You’re not the one who pulled the trigger.”
A pained gasp explodes from my lungs as the weight of what I had done slams into me. “I lied to you.” My words are hardly audible. “I lied…and you…now,” more tears stream down my face, “Anthony.”
“Stop.” He grabs my shoulders and pulls me close, pinning my cheek to his chest. “None of this is your fault. None of it.”
“Why didn’t anyone tell me? Why would he…”Oh, God.Isaia lied. He knew Anthony was alive and didn’t tell me. Why…why would he do that?
“I tried to get to you,” Anthony murmurs, not letting go. “I turned this fucking world around to find you, but he…that bastardseemed one step ahead all the fucking time.”
My mind is on the verge of exploding, my thoughts running rampant as I try to make sense of it all but failing miserably. “I don’t understand. Why would he lie?”
“He’s a Del Rossa, Everly—”so am I“—they do whatever the fuck they want, no matter who they hurt. They lie and cheat?—”
My pulse quickens. “No.” I let go of him, taking a step back…and then another. “There has to be a reason he lied. He wouldn’t just?—”
“What? Lie to you? Kidnap you? Kill people in a goddamn church?”
The blood in my veins turns cold. “He didn’t kidnap me.”
Anthony’s eyes narrow. “So, he didn’t carry you out of that church? He didn’t force you into the car? Drug you?”
My heart stops. “How do you?—”
“Like I said, searching for you was a goddamn inferno that wouldn’t stop raging until I saw you step out of that helicopter.” His expression turns dark, lines of —Pain? Anger?—painting themselves down the edges of his face. “I have seen things. Done things I’m not proud of, things that’ll haunt me for a long time, but all I cared about was findingyou. When I found out about that island, by God, Everly, I couldn’t get there fast enough.”
The memory punches through me like a blade. The gunfire. The bodies. The chaos. The cold walls of the safe room. Isaia’s searing kiss before he left, leaving the echo of his promise to keep me safe. Something sharp punctures my lungs, and strength drains from my bones. “Where is he?” I whisper.
“I don’t know. And I don’t care.”
“Anthony, is he alive?”
He gives me this look like he can’t believe I’m asking. “Are you serious?”
“Is he alive, Anthony?” I demand, panic coating my words. If something happened to him, if Isaia is dead…I won’t survive it. Just the thought extracts every ounce of life from my veins.
He licks his lips, sucking the bottom one into his mouth, his knuckles white as he clutches the cane. “Yes,” he snaps. “He’s alive. Unfortunately.”
The relief that floods me is an entity all on its own. It’s overwhelming, crashing into me with such force that I take a step back to ground myself. Tentatively, I reach out to lean on the nearby dresser, my fingers pressing into the wood as if it's the only thing anchoring me.Thank God he’s still alive.
“You look relieved,” he says, his words poison-laced.
“Of course, I am,” I reply truthfully. “I don’t want anyone to die for me.”
