Page 50 of Savior

My yearning to believe him hasn’t lessened. Neither has the determination not to trust him.

“I’ll help those women,” he continues. “Have faith I can get them out.”

“You won’t make it through the front gates without me.”

“Then I’m happy for you to provide the necessary insight that helps us to get in another way.”

“Us?” I ignore yet another refusal to let me leave and focus on obtaining more information about his plan.

“I’m not stupid enough to go on my own. Your brother will want to help, and Hunter is always looking for a bit of fun.”

Fun?Fun.

“Wrong choice of words.” He drops his hand from his nose and holds it up to me in placation. “I meant Hunter enjoys retribution. Especially against those who deserve a lot of it. Your tormentors will pay for what they’ve done.”

“I don’t care about revenge. All I want are my sis—”

There’s a tentative knock at the door.

“Yeah?” Luca snaps.

The barrier to the rest of the world opens, Tobias’s little face coming into view. He rushes toward me, keeping his distance from Luca as he passes to hold up a cookie.

“This is for you,” he offers. “They said you need to eat.”

“Thank you.” I grasp the offering but can’t stomach taking a bite, not with the lives of four people riding on my negotiating skills.

“Penny?” Tobias cringes and twists his legs together. “I really need to use the bathroom now.”

Shit.

I glance at Luca in question.

“It’s right in here, little buddy.” He jerks his head at the ajar door across the other side of the room, then quickly squeezes his eyes shut again, wincing. “Walk through the robe to the door at the end.”

Tobias peers up at me, waiting for approval.

“It’s okay.” I want to go with him, to lessen his fear, but I’m not finished with Luca. Not by a long shot. “Freshen up while you’re in there. Wash your face and hands.”

He nods, keeping an eye on the stranger as he walks to the door before disappearing inside.

The conversation doesn’t fall back into place once we’re alone.

Luca’s eyes remain partially squinted, his face pinched with discomfort.

Despite being uncertain about where to lay my trust, I don’t like seeing him in pain.

“Do you need a doctor?”

“I’ll be fine. It’s nothing but a headache.”

“It’s not fine. Not when you expect me to entrust you with the lives of the people I love.”

His nostrils flare. “You know what? The slightest bit of appreciation would go a long fucking way to ease the throb in my head. All I’ve done is try to help you and you keep spitting it back in my face.”

I straighten, the tiniest fissure of regret breaking through my defenses.

He’s right. I’ve shown very little thanks for what he’s done. But that’s because his promises of freedom don’t feel real. The death of my captors seems like a dream.

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