Page 29 of Danica's Revenge

I manage to flick the switch with my other hand just in time to see the masked man launch himself at me again, knife in hand.

Hesitating, I lift the 9mm.Can I actually shoot someone?

But it’s not my shot that sends the attacker to the floor; it comes from behind me.

I spin around, relieved when I’m met with a familiar face.

“You have to be careful, Miss Matthews,” Emilio urges, his large figure blocking the door.

“Thank you,” I say gratefully.I don’t know if I could’ve pulled the trigger.My heart is pounding a million beats a minute.

Will I ever get to Dante?

?

Chapter nineteen

Protector

I’mpulledoutofthe darkness in my mind by a commotion outside.I am just drifting in and out of consciousness by now, uncertain whether any time is passing or not.

My heart beats faster.

I'd know that voice anywhere.It can’t be though.

“I said: let him go!”it repeats, louder, closer.

Danica.

It must be a fever dream.She can’t be here.My desperate longing has materialized her in this cold, dark room.Am I finally losing it?What I won’t give for it to be Danica though.But not here, it is too dangerous.

The noise doesn’t die down.I hear more shouting in Italian, lots of shuffling, a struggle.For a moment I’m almost sure I hear Emilio.

My blindfold is still firmly in place, blocking out the room.I have no idea what’s going on.My world has been confined to this uncomfortable chair for what feels like ages, but I suspect it has only been a few days.I can’t feel my limbs anymore though.The rough rope ties are too tight.

A gunshot.It brings my drifting mind back to the present.

It’s no dream.The sound of the gunshot is unmistakable, and it came from right outside the door.

I hear another shot.

Have they come for me?I don’t want to get my hopes up.

The door opens and I hear heavy footsteps rushing in.They sound familiar, it’s one of the gunmen from before.He's running towards me.

This is it,I think.This is how I go.Oh god.

“If you touch him I will fucking end you!”The voice is loud and clear, unmistakable.Danica!

I feel the energy in the room shift.The guy must be close, I feel a tug on my ropes.

The next gunshot is very close, too close.The man screams loudly, dropping by my feet.

“I don’t like to be disobeyed, you asshole!I warned you.”ItisDanica.And she sounds furious.It must be a dream.She hates guns.Sure, I forced her to learn how to use one but under great protest.She refused to carry one even when I insisted.

“You can thank your lucky stars it was just your leg, douchebag,” the voice booms.

The man on the floor is pleading for his life in Italian, but I know she doesn’t understand nor would she care if she could.

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