CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

brAXTON

"Y ou can see Amy now ." Agent Scott tells me. "The processing takes a while, and it's better to let the medical teams do their thing. But she's ready."

The agent is echoing what Mack already told me, but it didn't stop me from trying to see her again, anyway.

Fucking hell.

I got my little Buttercup home. I did it!

Scott slaps me on the shoulder. "Great work, by the way. If you're looking for a new job, give me a call."

"Thanks. Think I might retire for a month before making any decisions, but I appreciate it."

"Connor has my number," he says, then as his phone rings, he wanders off.

The Dark Kings escorted me back to the Baldassare estate, and it was only pure luck that news hadn't got back to them and we were able to get the Ferrari—already loaded with my luggage—out of there.

I didn't stop to chat. Obviously.

But I did floor it all the way back to Manhattan. On the way, I phoned my father and told him that I'd found Amy.

"How? Where was she?" Dad asked.

"I can't answer that. But I can tell you she was taken and kept in a human trafficking ring. Just know that she is safe and so are a whole lot of other women," I said. "The rest she will share when and if she feels safe enough to."

"Jesus. Braxton. I'm proud of you, son," Dad said. "I'll admit I was worried when you left the Marine Corps, but I'm not surprised now. I understand a little more. That wee girl always had you as her protector."

She did and now I'm wondering if that gave her a false sense of security and played a part in her making some poor decisions.

Or her mom manipulated her.

Both likely.

"Yeah." I sighed when I pulled up to a set of lights. "But she needs to make some different decisions when she's recovered. We can't let her go back home with Aunt Tracey, Dad. She's an addict."

"She can stay with us," he said, and I felt my body relax.

"Thanks."

"We'll head to the hospital in the morning to pick her up. Sounds like you need to recover yourself. Take care of yourself, son. We are here if you need us."

I hung up, and for the remainder of the drive to the hospital where both Amy and Gianna are being treated, I realized my father was right.

I'm drained.

And confused.

Confused about what to do about the woman I am in love with. Someone I should walk away from and stay far, far away.

Yet those hurt eyes of hers had burned a scar on my soul as she locked me out.

I knew this would happen.

That she would hate me for my betrayal. But experiencing it, after admitting to myself how I feel about her, was so much fucking worse than I thought it would be.

Hell, I wasn't supposed to even like her.

When she stepped into the warehouse tonight, I nearly lost my fucking mind. Saving Amy and those women is probably the proudest moment of my life. At the same time, I betrayed the only woman I've ever loved.

First, I need to see my cousin.

Then I'll think.

I push through the door and Amy is sitting in a hospital bed with a gown on, looking pale and exhausted.

"Hey, Buttercup." I walk in and her blank stare meets mine. A tear rolls down her face and I hurry to the side of the bed, plonking into the chair. "Hey, hey. You are safe now."

"You saved me. All of us." She sobs.

I lift my shoulder. "I had a few days to spare. It was no big deal."

Her wide eyes just stare at me and it's clear she's mentally a mess.

"I thought I was going to die. I wanted to die, Brax."

Fuck.

"We'll get you the help you need." I squeeze her hand. "You're an adult, but I don't want you going home to your mom's."

She shakes her head.

"I messed up." She sobs more.

"Don't, Amy. Don't. Blaming yourself isn't going to change anything. Those fucking monsters are all dead. But there are more of them in the world. We will help you to navigate life once you have healed." I shake my head as I take in the state of her dehydrated skin, the darkness around her eyes, and her almost non-existent fingernails.

The drip connected to her arm is helping to replenish her, but it won't fix the psychological damage.

Nothing will ever bring the cheerful, innocent little girl we once knew.

"Mom and Dad will be here in the morning to take you home," I tell her.

"Okay." She nods and I can see she's getting sleepy. Likely some drugs they've given to calm her. "I'm sorry, Brax."

"Sleep," I say as her head tips to the side and nestles into the pillow.

Her eyes close and I stay there, holding her hand for a while. When I leave, I nod to the Barrett Security guard stationed outside.

I walk to the end of the ward and let out a long breath. With Amy safe, now all I can think about is Gianna. Not that she ever left my mind.

I should walk away. Get some sleep. Have dinner.

Be Braxton Ashford again.

But before I know it, my feet are walking down the corridor toward her room, and if she wants to tell me to fuck off, then at least I'll get to say the words I need to say to her.

I stop outside her hospital room.

I stare at the door and take a moment to ask myself what the fuck I'm doing. Then I push it open.

Gianna.

My heart swells as I take in the beautiful dark-haired beauty lying in the hospital bed. She looks surprised to see me, but her expression is hard to read. Like she's in shock and still coming to grips with what has happened.

I don't blame her.

If she really has figured out what those women were doing there, it would be an enormous thing to accept. Even if your father is a mobster.

Does she know he's dead?

That Dante is on the run?

"Can I come in?"

"Yes." She tries to sit up but clenches her eyes and places a hand on her head. "Ow, fuck it hurts."

"Just go slow." I help her, adjusting the pillow, then stand there glancing around the room.

I expected her mother to be here.

Or James, at the very least.

"Gianna where is your mother?" I ask, running a hand through my hair.

She glances down at the blankets and a tear slips down her cheek. Then she lifts her face to mine. "I told them not to call her."

Fuck.

"You have a head injury." I shake my head.

Someone has to look after her.

Where does she think she is going?

Gianna nods but she won't look me in the eye. Nor is she kicking me out of her room, so I take that as a good sign.

"I guess I'm just enjoying the freedom until Papa..." her voice trails off.

Oh hell.

"Gia—"

"I know. The agent told me," she says, her voice breaking, and then she drops her face in her hands and tries to cry. Then cringes from the pain and cries some more.

I can't stop myself.

I sit on the bed and pull her into my arms.

"He's a monster. I shouldn't cry for him. He's a monster."

Yes.

"He is still your dad," I say because it's true. "You need to tell your mom where you are, princess. She will know about your dad by now and be worried."

Why the fuck do I care?

I don't care about Angela Baldassare, but I do care that Gianna has someone to care about her and take care of her.

"She'll be busy trying to find Dante." She sniffs against my shoulder.

I straighten.

I want to ask her where he is, but the pain in her eyes stops me. She needs someone in her corner, and she has no one. I don't want anyone else taking my fucking place, either.

"Go on. Ask me," she says, looking away and that pain doubling as her face crumples.

"No," I reply, taking her chin in my fingers and turning her back to me. "I'm here for you. Not your brother. For you, Gia."

She sniffs and does that little hiccuping intake of breath. "You're a US Marine."

I nod. "Yeah."

"Did you even like me?" she bravely asks, and shame fills my entire being.

I am not going to lie to her. Not anymore.

"I didn't know you. I thought you were beautiful, sexy and...yes, a way to your father so I could find my cousin." I glance away.

Gianna is silent for a moment, and I can feel her watching me. When I look back, there is horror on her face.

"You had a cousin there? In the warehouse?" she asks, tears starting up again. "I heard them, Brax. All those women. It was like a nightmare."

For them too.

Way more so.

Amy was held for weeks and weeks—beaten, refused food and the basic human needs such as a toilet and free air. Ready to be sold to despicable people in the world and used as slaves.

But it will do no good to say those things to Gianna. She wasn't responsible and, like others, she was a victim of all of this.

She has lost her father.

Lost her brother—however that plays out—and by the sounds of it, her mother may not be the loving parent one would expect in the face of this loss.

Rather, her focus will be on holding the family together.

Connor said it will take the feds a while to work out if they have a case against them. Them being...who?

Frank Baldassare and Salvatore are dead.

There is nothing to prove Dante had anything to do with it. He disappeared when I went down into the holding cell where the women were, so I can't stand up as a witness and say he knew about them.

Because I don't know that for sure.

Although we could all hear them.

And why the hell didn't he shoot me?

For Gianna?

I have more questions than ever about her brother.

"She was." I nod, confirming that Amy was one of the women, and brush her hair off her forehead. "Gianna."

"Don't," she says.

Fuck. I have to say this. Even if it's only half true. It's still true...god, I don't even know how to reconcile my thoughts and feelings let alone communicate them.

"I'm sorry," I rasp. "Sorry I used you. Sorry you are hurting. Sorry that there is no way for me to prove that what we had felt as real to me as it did to you."

Sad as fuck eyes lift to mine as a trillion little tears pour down her face.

"Thank you."

I stand before I break down. I have no right to ask for her forgiveness or let her see me cry.

I lean down and kiss her forehead, then walk out the door.

Goodbye, princess.