He lifted the water to his lips and sipped, droplets fell down his large chin onto his chest. "It's very fresh. Cold."
My breathing was erratic; I couldn't focus on anything but the water. The drops he was wasting… the drops I would lick off him if I could just reach… That was all I needed in life — two drops of water.
"She betrayed you," he said as he slowly dumped water from the pitcher onto the floor.
"No!" I screamed.
"Yes," he whispered.
"Y-yes." I hung my head. The zap didn't come, but neither did sleep; instead, a frenzied madness took its place. "Yes!" I lifted my head. "The bitch betrayed me."
Petrov rose, his knees cracked as he held the water to my lips. "And what are you going to do about it?"
I met his glare. "I'm going to kill them all."
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Andi
"NIXON!" I YELLED INTO MY CELL PHONE as it went to voicemail yet again. "Answer your damn phone!"
I hit the accelerator harder, ready to ram the gate that led into his house. Dying before my time wouldn't help Sergio. I rubbed my head where I'd been hit; the bruise looked horrific. It had probably caused brain damage, but I couldn't think of that right now.
Sergio had been taken…
By my father.
And I was going to get him back even if it killed me — or if I needed to kill my own flesh and blood to do so.
The stupid-ass idiot who'd knocked me out had tied my hands and feet together and stuffed me in a closet then dropped what felt like a hundred pounds of clothes on top of me…
I wasn't sure what he was trying to accomplish, other than suffocating me, but once I had fought through the clothes I had a new problem.
How was I going to get to a phone?
By the time I managed to kick down the closet door, I was exhausted. My sickness wasn't allowing any sort of Xena-warrior-princess tendencies. Instead, I turned on my side and puked.
When I was done tossing my guts I inched and hopped down the hall. He'd put me in the farthest room in the house — a million miles away from a phone.
When I passed the upstairs' study, I noticed that it was already starting to get dark again.
How long had I been out?
The pain in my ass was intense; bruises would cover my body by the time I made it to the phone.
I had no concept of time — only that I had to call Nixon… or find a knife.
When I reached Sergio's room, I nearly burst into tears. No phone. They'd taken all communication from his room. No cells, nothing.
Knife. I needed a knife.
Or a machete.
Another few hours, and I was at the stairway.
It was going to hurt. But time wasn't on my side. Gritting my teeth, I rolled to my hip and tucked my head toward my chest, causing myself to roll down the stairs. Each stair bit into me. I held my scream in — I wouldn't scream, I wouldn't focus on me. Only him, the man I loved.
I was going to save Sergio…
And put a bullet between my father's eyes.
He was trying to start a war, and I was going to be the one to end it, after I cut off his head and put it on a freaking spike.
I hit the bottom floor hard. Something cracked in my wrist as I tried to catch myself. Ignoring the jarring pain radiating down my arm, I inched into the kitchen and located the knife drawer.
With a wince, I leaned back and kicked my legs up. The drawer slowly opened. I kicked out harder. One final kick, and the drawer fell to the ground.
I'd never been so happy to see a machete…
"Nixon!" I honked my horn for the fifth time. I was driving one of Sergio's cars and doing a crap job of it, if the scratches on the sides were any indication.
I pressed the buzzer to the gate again.
"What the hell, Sergio?" the voice barked on the other end.
"He's been taken!" I yelled frantically. "Nixon, let me in, or so help me God, I'm going to use Sergio's machete to cut out your heart and feed it to you!"
The gate opened.
I hit the floor with the accelerator and barely put it into park when Nixon and Trace came running out of the house.
Nixon helped me out of the car. His eyes took in my appearance. "Shit, Trace, call the guys now."
He threw a phone at her; she caught it mid-air and started dialing, not missing a beat.
Nixon didn't say anything else; he simply lifted me into his arms and carried me inside the house. I knew if I relaxed, the pain would be worse. If I stopped freaking out, the stress would stop protecting me, the adrenaline would stop, and I'd feel all the broken parts of me. Rigid, I waited until we were in the house, until he set me down.
And then I started screaming.
Trace's eyes widened briefly before she ran out of the room, returning minutes later with a syringe.
"No!" I held up my hands. "No drugs. Let me feel the pain."
Nixon cursed and kicked the couch. "Have you seen yourself?"
"No." I shook my head violently. "Don't want to. We need to go get Sergio, now."
Nixon checked his watch. "Shit, they need to drive faster."