Page 27 of Twisted Embrace

Two burly men stood in front of the door, two more leaning against the wall only feet away. They were just as menacing as Enzo. Just as dangerous, but I was glad they were here.

“Eventuali problemi?” he asked. I didn’t need to know Italian to realize he’d asked if there were any issues.

“Nessuno finora,” one of the men said as he slanted his eyes in my direction. The other two men joined them, the entire group threatening from their appearance alone.

“Are there any problems?” I asked.

When Enzo lowered his gaze, the way he was looking at me was feral, unyielding. There was so much anger mixed with the kind of desire I’d never seen before.

Except with Lucia and D’Artagnan.

“You will not disturb her,” he told me.

“I have no intentions of doing so,” I said, the ugly sound to my voice a direct correlation to the anger and guilt controlling every action. I didn’t want to be here. The thought of seeing Lucia in a hospital bed was crippling. But this was something I had to do.

He pressed his palm against the door, guiding me inside. The number of machines and tubes, beeps and clicks made me sick to my stomach. Even from where I was standing just inside the door, I could see how pale she was, her usually dazzling dark curls dull and lifeless. Her eyes were closed, IVs in her arms. At least the bump under the sheets gave me hope.

The baby was still alive.

“Go,” he whispered hoarsely, pushing me as a parent would to a petulant child.

I wasn’t certain how I’d managed to move at all, but I found myself against the steel bar keeping her from falling to the floor. Jesus Christ. I was so sick I couldn’t breathe, visions of times we’d spent together rushing through my mind so quickly I could barely manage to capture a single one.

With the exception of the first time we’d seen D’Artagnan inside the swanky bar, the man dressed in jeans and leather holding our attention like no other. She’d left with him that night, beginning what I’d called a tragedy, but she’d called the romance of a lifetime. I wanted that for her and in truth, for myself. At this point, I wasn’t certain I’d live long enough to find my special someone or if I deserved it after all.

I tentatively reached out, taking her fingers into mine. Her skin was so cold that I shivered. To see her this way, helpless and in need was one of the worst experiences in my life.

“Hiya, girlie. It’s me. I know you probably don’t want to see me right now, but I couldn’t stay away.” I rubbed the top of her hand, praying for her to open her eyes even once.

Her breathing seemed even, no bells and whistles with the machines. At least my presence wasn’t disturbing her.

“You’re a fighter, honey. You’ve always been. I knew that the day I met you. Do you remember that? The party? God, you looked hot that night. I hated you at first sight. Did I ever tell you that? You were so perfect and beautiful that I felt dowdy being in your presence. I was certain you’d be one of ‘those’ women. You know that type. The ones we made fun of. So arrogant, their beauty derived through plastic surgery?” I laughed at the memory, although a bitter taste formed in my mouth. “You’re going to get through this, both you and that beautiful baby of yours. You never told me if you were having a boy or a girl. I forgot to ask.”

I glanced at the bump and a single tear slipped down my cheek. Please, God. Don’t take her baby away from her. Please. I’ll do anything you ask. Anything. Just save her. Take me if you need to drag someone to wherever.

My prayer was laced with nervousness just like everything else about me. “I asked God to take me instead. Hopefully, he’ll listen.”

“It’s time to go,” Enzo said in his usual emotionless voice. The fact he was finally looking over my shoulder at his sister made me almost laugh. Did he really not care about her, or was he the kind of guy who’d been told he couldn’t show his feelings? What did it matter?

“I need to leave. The doctors want you to have your rest. But I’ll be back. Stay strong, girlie. One day we’ll sip champagne and look back on this as nothing but a bad memory.” I waited another ten seconds, already feeling his irritation building. Just when I was ready to pull my hand away, I felt a slight squeeze. It was just enough I gasped.

Then Lucia opened her eyes. While I wasn’t certain if she was seeing me, the swell of emotions became too much to bear. I reacted without thinking, pulling my hand away and turning toward him, toward my captor, pressing my face against his chest.

In a move so out of his element and so unexpected I couldn’t breathe, he wrapped his arm around me, keeping me close. I could feel his beating heart, the ragged thumping matching my own. I wanted to push away, refusing his limited comfort but as with everything else about being close to him, I simply couldn’t. He’d taken me from my home, caging me by his presence and that of soldiers pledging the loyalty to protect him against all costs.

But he’d captured me the moment he’d allowed his guard to fall, expressing his hunger with his eyes.

Enzo said nothing else as he guided me from the room, but I was able to glance at Lucia one last time. Her eyes were closed, her hand positioned listlessly by her side.

“She seems so frail,” I said quietly, trying to control my emotions.

“You need to keep that vision in your mind.”

His words repulsed me, so much so I jerked away from him, slapping him across the face without thinking. He turned his head to absorb the blow, his expression darkening as his jaw clenched.

When he slowly turned his head, the venom in his eyes was unmistakable. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“I’m certain you’ll punish me for it later, but you know what? I don’t care. You have no idea how hard it was for me to see my friend in that condition. You couldn’t understand the heartache and pain, or the crippling fear. And do you want to know why?” As usual, his silence was deafening. “Because you don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself and I hate you for it. I’ll hate you until the day I die.” My proclamation wasn’t meant to try to dig a reaction out of him. He didn’t have normal feelings like other people. He was cold and heartless.

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