His eyes tell a story. A long, fucking scary ass story. I’ve been trained how to read people, and my observation tells me he’s seen and done some horrific things in his life. What I want to know is, what does he want with me?
I shake my head trying not to think about what he is going to do. He presses my shoulders down with so much force I can feel my bones start to rattle.
“Get off me!” I scream to the best of my ability through my scratchy and sore throat.
He withdraws his hands.
“You have it in you, I see. Good to know.”
I’m seething. My body is bruised from head to toe. I remember the accident. The way I was tossed and flipped around in the truck. Everything. Now that I know I’m not dead, I want my husband and my family.
He took me from them. But how? How did he get away with me without anyone coming to save me? There is no way my dad, Cain, or Manny would just let someone take me. My mother, either. They would all fight. Unless... Oh, God. No!
“Where’s my family?” I demand.
He doesn’t answer me. He swings his head slowly to the right, his demeanor becoming uncompromising.
It takes every bit of energy I have to lift my head, using my elbows to hold me up. I cry out as pain shoots down my neck and arms. In the corner of the room is a man who has his back to me. He’s leaning over a man whose head is slumped down, resting on his chest. Those clothes he has on. I recognize them.
A bloodcurdling scream escapes me when I see the man pick up a long, shiny knife and bring it up to the light. He examines it closely, twirling it around in his fingers. My cries and pleas are ignored as my abductor laughs.
“You sons of bitches! Let us go! Do you have any idea who he is?”
I’m hauled up by the hair and dragged off of the table. My body crashes to the floor. I’m too weak to try and fight. Too bruised, too battered, too shocked.
“Let her take a look at him. Let her see what’s about to happen if she doesn’t help me get everything I want,” he says, looking down at me. His eyes bore into mine.
“This is the kind of torture your father inflicts on people when they won’t give up the information he wants. Only I’m not your father. I won’t end his life, not until I’ve drained every ounce of blood out of him. Not until I get what is rightfully mine. I want you to watch, and if you disappoint me and look away, I’ll instruct Raymond here to do the exact same thing to you, except he likes to play with women before he tortures them.”
No words come out of my throat, as it is choked with my sobs. Tears drip steadily down my cheeks, landing beside me on the cold, tile floor.
Raymond doesn’t say a word. He licks the tip of the knife. His eyes are crazed, darting back and forth over his target, who slowly lifts his head. Oh, God. Please don’t look at me. I don’t think I can bear to see him. When his almost unrecognizable face comes into view, I scream.
“Manny!”
No! What have they done to him?
Chapter Nineteen
Cain
I stare out the window, studying the view of the Long Island Sound from Salvatore’s house. It’s been two days since Calla and Manny were taken from the accident and not a word of their whereabouts.
By the time the paramedics got to the scene, they were gone. Both of them. There were no witnesses to the accident to give anyone a description of who took them. Yet Salvatore knows. He knows there would be only one person who would do something like this. One person who was biding his time and waiting to strike. He has my wife. He has my best friend. And he’s a cold-blooded killer. A hitman seeking revenge against his family, who shunned him for his actions and betrayal.