Page 96 of Of Grief And Gratitude

“You get back early, and I’ll give you a treat when we get home tonight.” He flicked his tongue suggestively.

I smiled slyly. It sounded like a good deal to me. “And if I’m late?”

“I get to show you how much you’ll love my cock deep in that ass of yours.” He bit his lip when I tapped my chin in contemplation.

I didn’t want to look too eager, though I was interested in both sides of the offer. Either way, I was winning. I held out my hand. “Deal.”

He shook my hand, then pulled me in for a lingering kiss, leaving me wobbly when he finally let me go. “Better hurry, or that ass is mine, Riona.”

I giggled and grabbed my water bottle, nearly running out the back door. I slowed to enjoy my walk when I reached the path, my leg muscles working hard as I climbed the rise. Unfortunately, the hilly terrain meant I literally had to go uphill both ways.

Everything was fine until something moved on the path ahead, and I shrieked, the forest eating up the shrill sound of my voice. A little brown snake slithered off the trail, and I walked as far to the opposite side as possible. I had an irrational fear that it would somehow leap across the path at me, which sent me into a sprint until I reached the next curve. Chuckling ruefully, I berated myself for being afraid of nothing.

Still, when I reached the clearing, I walked around the open space, checking for critters—just in case. When I was sure nothing would jump out at me, I stood in front of Antonella’s memorial.

“I love your son,” I said to the rock, pretending Antonella was sitting there in one of her designer house dresses, complete with high heels on her feet. Her hair would be twisted into a perfect chignon, and she’d wear her pearl jewelry and smell of flowers when she kissed my cheeks. She’d clap her hands with joy and clasp them to her chest like I’d seen her do several times during our brief acquaintance.

Only my imaginary Antonella didn’t speak. Her eyes glittered, and then she completely faded from my mind’s eye, the glittering turning to a flicker of sunlight through the leaves in the trees.

“I love him,” I said again, for myself, because it was true. While I might be nervous about the future in Chicago, I knew I wanted to spend it with Romeo.

I sighed, shuffling over to the rocks and leaning against one while I sipped on my water, listening to the sound of trickling water in the creek and birds chirping as they hopped on the opposite side of the stream, safely away from the invading human. I should have brought some bread or crackers for them. If we ever returned, I’d bring a bag of bird feed and befriend them.

The sun was warm on my face, and I leaned my head back on the rock, closing my eyes and basking in the late morning heat. I must have dozed off because the next thing I noticed was the chill in the air. The sun had hidden behind dark grey clouds rolling across the sky, and the wind was picking up ominously. I checked my phone and jumped up when I saw it was after noon. Shit. I’d be lucky if I didn’t lose my bet with Romeo.

I brushed the dirt from my jeans and slid the water bottle and phone into my hoodie's front pocket. A branch snapped behind me, and I thought one of the guys must have come looking for me.

“You didn’t have to rush out here. I’m just fi—”

When I turned, my voice cut off, and my blood ran cold. Before me stood a tall man clad in what looked like black tactical clothing and a black mask, blocking the path back toward the house. I couldn’t draw breath. My heart threatened to pound out of my chest as I tried to think of my options. He definitely wasn’t your friendly neighborhood hiker.

He shouted something at me in a thick accent, and I flinched. It sounded similar to what I’d heard in Chicago in the district with the Bratva-owned bakeries. Russian, maybe.

“I–I don’t understand,” I forced out, my hands trembling like my voice as I held them up to show I wasn’t a threat. That was a ridiculous thought. There was no way I could be a threat to a man who was bigger… and held a gun in his black-gloved hand.

He motioned at me with his pistol and spoke with a heavy accent. “You. Come with me.”

What other choice did I have? I willed my feet to move, though every survival instinct screamed at me not to take another step closer to the stranger. When I got within arm's reach, the man grabbed my shoulder roughly, his fingers digging in and making me cry out in pain. He shoved me toward the path, and I stumbled, barely keeping my footing as I slowly started down the route that would lead me back to Romeo. Was that what the man wanted? It must have been.

“Faster,” the man barked. When I glanced around, looking for any place I could get away, he made a little sound in his throat. “You run—I shoot. You scream—I shoot.”

There went that brilliant idea. I didn’t like my odds against his gun at point-blank range, so I kept moving forward, my chest aching from anxiety and exertion with every breath as I climbed the hill. I should have stayed inside. Nature and I didn’t get along at all.

The rain started to fall on the descent, drops finding their way through the leaves to dampen my hoodie and make the path slick and muddy. My sneakers weren’t made for inclement weather, and I lost my footing, falling hard on the forest floor and knocking the wind out of me as a throbbing pain radiated up from my tailbone.

“Get up.” The masked man nearly yanked my arm from its socket as he hauled me off my ass and pushed me forward more carefully than the last time. He touched his ear and spoke Russian, and I realized he was communicating with somebody else. I should have learned a foreign language in school. Then, maybe I’d know what he was saying and who he was talking to.

The cabin came into view, and I hoped somebody would catch movement out the windows. They had to be wondering where I was by now. Romeo would never leave me to fend for myself in a storm. Instead of entering the yard, my captor directed me on another path that circled the property, approaching from the living room side. Any hope I had was dashed when I realized they’d closed all the curtains in preparation for our departure. They couldn’t see me at all.

More figures emerged from the forest on the opposite side of the house, and I knew without a doubt that I’d seen one of these men last week on my way back from the creek. I mentally kicked myself for not heeding my intuition when I felt threatened. Look where that had gotten me. Cold, wet, muddy, and at gunpoint.

The man in black behind me spoke quietly into his comm device and tilted his head when I heard a static voice respond. Whoever it was must have told him to hang back because he wrapped a meaty fist around my arm, squeezing until I whimpered.

“Shut up, bitch,” he hissed low. “You stay here.”

I forced my body to relax until he released my arm, satisfied I was compliant. Only, I was plotting. The house couldn’t be more than fifty yards away from where I stood, and with all those windows, it was far from soundproof. I had a good shot of reaching the house before the men in black, or at least warning Romeo, Sean, and Sam.

Taking a slow, deep breath, I pretended my shoe was bothering me. The man tensed, then looked toward the back of the house, ignoring me as I feigned tying the laces on my sneaker. I layered some slick leaves behind me, knowing the man would have to step there to follow, and planted my feet so they wouldn’t slide.

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