Chapter Twenty-One

Delilah

T he driver braked the car to a stop in front of a nondescript warehouse. Cutting the engine, he climbed out of the car and opened up the back passenger door, gesturing for me to get out.

I nodded and unclipped my seatbelt with unsteady hands. It was pointless to argue. The more I complied, the less chance I had of getting hurt.

At least for now.

Jarrod holstered his gun, then stayed close behind me as I followed the driver toward a single door guarded by a soldier, though I noted more soldiers doing their rounds outside the warehouse. We stepped inside onto a concrete floor, the dimly-lit, cavernous space crowded with long tables where haggard-looking women weighed and bagged coke. They didn't look up as we took the metal stairs to the next level, not even when my heels rang out sharply.

I didn't doubt if they paused for even a second they'd be assaulted by the two guards wandering around the room with their firearms. Though my heart ached for the women, I had enough of my own problems to deal with, namely staying alive. Still, it was tempting to act on a sudden impulse to turn around and shove Jarrod down the stairs.

My legs were starting to turn to jelly, my heart in my throat as the driver in front of me stepped up onto the overhead level. It took everything I had to ignore the next image in my head where I instead threw myself down the stairs and ended my life. At least then I wouldn't be raped and tortured before I was killed.

I lifted my chin. No. I'd do everything in my power to survive. Time was my friend. If I couldn't escape I only hoped and prayed Serafino would do everything in his power to save me.

You're his whore, why would he bother?

The thought was like a sucker punch to my gut, the desolation then coming over me almost bringing me to my knees.

"Move it," Jarrod hissed, shoving me from behind as I slowed at the last step.

I stumbled, but I didn't have time to react, not when the driver stepped aside to reveal a short, stocky man who'd been clasping the safety railing and peering down at the workers below. He pushed off the railing to turn and face me, his beady eyes raking over me as though I was a piece of succulent meat at market.

The driver nodded respectfully at him before he gestured toward me. "This is the woman you wanted, Boss."

My stomach cramped at the vile man who was apparently the Irish don. He was so different to the tall, dangerous and sinfully handsome Agostino and Costa men. This don looked more bullfrog than man, with a personality to match.

His yellowed teeth flashed behind his thick, bulbous lips. "So this is the whore who'll have the Agostino Muppet crying in his milk."

I didn't say a word. Though I was shaking inside, I managed to stay calm on the outside as he walked slowly around me, tearing away my clothes with his eyes and making me feel cheap and sullied.

My thoughts scattered, then replayed indiscriminately through my head.

I couldn't forget that Serafino was a dangerous man who attracted other threats like a magnet.

I needed to steer clear of Serafino and his family.

Normal men didn't do it for me anymore; they hadn't in a long time. I needed someone who kept me walking on a tightrope. I needed excitement, I craved it.

I was about to pay a serious price for ignoring my better judgement.

I could have left my profession, left Serafino, without looking back, then worked my ass off to graduate from an interior designer and decorator degree. I could have started a whole new life.

Despite that, I knew deep down I still would have chosen Serafino for our short time together. Better to have loved and lost...

My breath suspended as my heart lurched, my skin tingling. I did love him. I'd been in love with him from the very start.

The Irish don clasped my jaw with his stubby fingers, making my eyes water. "You're nothing special. Shite, I've fucked better looking monkeys from the ghetto. Except they didn't pretend to be high class, they were cheap and nasty, expendable just like you."

His taunts triggered something deep inside of me. My stepmother's vile words flooded my memory, bringing with it past trauma, despair and pain. Not to mention my wrath. My laugh was caustic. "You fucked monkeys? That's disgusting." I hawked a globule of spittle squarely onto his face. " You're disgusting."

Cold fury contorted his face as he released his grip on me and used the sleeve of his jacket to wipe his face dry. Then lifting his arm, he backhanded me so hard I buckled to the floor, my ears ringing and blood pouring from my nose.

I had no doubt it'd soon be the least of my worries.

He stood over me. "I'm going to fulfill your death wish. After I've fucked you, my men will take turns invading your body until you're so used and abused you'll be begging me to end your suffering."

Whomp. Whomp. Whomp.

The faint noise quickly escalated, and even with my ringing ears I realized it was an approaching helicopter. My insides vibrated as I swallowed down a laugh. Then spitting out some blood, I looked up at him and said with a feral smile, "Not if Serafino kills you first."

The Irish don didn't move for a moment, his disbelief costing him precious seconds. Jarrod had also frozen in place, his face draining of all color.

The driver was the first to move. Running to a grimy window at the end of the building, he peered through the filthy pane. "Boss, incoming."

The window suddenly shattered as a bullet ripped through, slamming into the driver's head. He was little more than a ragdoll as he flopped to the floor in a shower of glass and brains, his eyes staring blankly our way.

All my focus turned to Serafino as he hung from the open door of the helicopter hovering at the exposed window. He lowered his gun, his eyes locking on mine. My breath squeezed out, a rush of energy fizzing through me.

He'd come for me.

He stared for no more than a couple of seconds, but it seemed infinite, time suspended with our connection irrefutable. His eyes turned hard as he took in my bloodied nose, my bruised face and swollen eye. Raising his gun, he looked through its sight, targeting the Irish don.

Too late.

Rat-a-tat-tat.

The soldiers outside the warehouse let loose with a spray of bullets that pinged against the metal body of the bird, forcing the pilot to pull sharply away.

Leaving me behind.

Oh, crap.

With the rotors fading, silence grew. Until one of the women on the ground floor screamed.

A soldier barked at her. "Don't fucking move!"

Bang.

I sucked in a strained breath. Had he killed her?

The Irish don didn't appear to give a shit. Menace poured from every cell in his squat body as his muscles unlocked and he stalked toward the dead driver and snarled, "How the feck did the Agostinos find us so quickly?"

Was the don expecting a reply? Was he that deranged?

He shook his head and added, "We only just got Serafino's whore." His lips flattened as he turned an accusing stare Jarrod's way. "Did you double-cross me?"

Jarrod gaped, his face now bone-white. "M-me? No! Of course not. I've proven my loyalty by bringing you the Agostino whore. I'm here to serve you."

"Don't effin' lie to me!" the don bit out, his face red and his body bristling. He unholstered his gun. "Tell me now why I shouldn't kill you."

Jarrod sputtered. "I have intel on the Agostinos! How else could I have known how smitten Serafino was with his whore? Even your driver knew how desperate I was to join your family."

The Irish don snorted. "A pity your only witness is now dead."

Jarrod shook his head. "I still have one witness alive." He turned to me, his eyes wide and beseeching. "Tell the boss how much I wanted to impress him by bringing you here."

I glared even though one eye was so puffed up I could only see out of my good one. Did he seriously imagine I'd do him any favors after he'd brought me here? "My memory must be failing me," I said sweetly. "All I seem to recall is you telling me we all die one day. And that some of us die sooner rather than later?"

"I can't dispute that," the Irish don said, depressing the gun's safety before he lifted the muzzle and pointed it at Jarrod.

He gaped at me, his face going from white to gray. "Don't do this," he whispered. "You're no killer."

"Do I look like I have the gun?" I asked.

He'd brought this on himself.

Bang.

I looked away from his body as it slumped to the floor. I was already in survival mode and stayed motionless as the don stepped toward me. It was only when he reached for me that I put every ounce of my energy into punching him between his legs.

"Oomph." He doubled over with a strangled breath and I pushed to my feet and pivoted away, leaping over Jarrod's lifeless form before sprinting down the stairs in a noisy clattering of my heels.

This was my one real chance to evade the don. He'd be in too much pain to issue commands. I doubted he'd even walk for a few minutes let alone have the capability to run.

I absently touched my swollen jaw as I hit the ground floor.

Karma really was a bitch.

My head swiveled between the door I'd been brought through and the room where the women had been working. I chose the room. No doubt the entry would soon be swarming with the don's soldiers.

I had no idea what I'd face out the back, or if there was even a door that way, but the two soldiers were gone. I assumed they'd taken the women somewhere safe.

I grimaced. One woman had been left behind. She wouldn't be going anywhere. Her limp body was sprawled face-down on the filthy concrete in a pool of her own blood, one hand clutching a bag of coke that had spilled free, creating macabre-looking slurry on the floor.

No doubt the Irish don would be more furious about his wasted coke than he would the death of one of his workers.

I ran in the direction the woman had been heading, detouring around her body and its spreading blood. I couldn't think about her family, especially the children she might have. It was better not to think at all.

I raced around the tables, avoiding big trolleys, crates and other paraphernalia as my heart pumped furiously, the adrenaline pouring through me ensuring I no longer felt the pain of where I'd been hit.

I thrust open the back door, then slammed it shut behind me even as I stood for a second or two to get my bearings. An empty, overgrown yard riddled with weeds and patches of shale stood between me and a sagging ten foot chain-link fence.

Outside of the fence was yet another overgrown yard cut in half by a drainage ditch, which appeared to gouge the ground for miles either side. Behind it an aged redbrick warehouse with patches of moss growing up its walls looked as though it had been a part of the landscape since time began.

Pushing away from the warehouse door, I sprinted in the direction I thought the helicopter had gone...until one of my heels dug into some soft shale, twisting my ankle sharply. I cursed under my breath, slowing to a hobbling trot at the explosion of pain.

I was almost to the fence when the warehouse door slammed open. I looked behind me, close to sobbing at seeing the two soldiers who'd already killed one of the women who worked for their don.

The nearest one raised his gun just as the Irish don stumbled outside with more soldiers behind him. "Don't shoot you fecking imbecile," he shouted. "I need her alive."

I could see in his eyes he was going to make me pay for what I'd done. He'd keep me alive while killing me slowly.

I set off again, ignoring the stabbing pain in my ankle when I put weight on it. If I could just get over the fence before the soldiers caught up to me I might have a chance.

I'd reached the fence when movement outside of it caught my eyes. A sob finally broke free at the vision of Serafino, his brothers and Valentino as they climbed out of the ditch, staying on their bellies with their guns raised.

I clasped the chain links, just as Serafino fired off some shots. A soldier grunted behind me and dropped to the ground, followed by another.

A handful of seconds passed in ear-splitting silence, then...chaos.