Page 211 of Salvatore

He’s about to head back toward the bar, but Remy stops him with a hand to the chest, his expression stark as he holds up his phone for his brother to see.

“What is it?” I ask.

Matthew scrubs a palm over his mouth, his torment palpable.

“Remy?” Abri moves toward them, her face slackening as she absorbs what’s on the screen.

“Is it Gabriel?” I push past Torian and his men. “Show me.”

Abri shakes her head. “You don’t want to?—”

“Show me.” I jog the few feet between us and snatch the cell from Remy, my heart crumpling into brittle shards at theimage of Salvatore, shirtless, bloodied, beaten, his head hanging forward while he stands chained to a sandstone wall.

Unknown number

Return my daughter to my apartment in the city or your brother’s torture continues.

I breathe through the nausea. Square my shoulders against the guilt. “Who’s taking me?” I glance at them in turn, getting blank stares in reply. I shove the cell into Remy’s chest. “Who’s taking me?”

“Nobody is taking you anywhere,” Bishop snarls. “Salvatore would never forgive us.”

“Iwill never forgive you.” I glare, cutting my attention back to Remy. “I want to leave.”

He winces, the precursor to a denial.

“Ivy…” Liv places a consoling hand on my arm. “They’re not going to hand you over, and it’s not safe to?—”

“Don’t.” I shrug away her touch, my eyes still narrowed slits aimed at Salvatore’s youngest brother. “You’re going about this all wrong. You can’t just attack once you find where he is.”

“We can if they have no men,” Matthew says, the words clipped. “There’s whispers that most of the cartel have fled, already fearing our retaliation.”

“But Lorenzo said they called in reinforcements from New York,” I counter.

“Which remains to be seen,” Bishop growls.

“But they could still be here, right?” I glance from one man to the next, none of them willing to confirm or deny my theory. “You could walk into an ambush. And it only takes one man to pull the trigger on Salvatore.”

Matthew’s eyes harden. “He wouldn’t want you involved, and that’s final. All you’re doing is distracting us and wasting our time.”

The accusation cuts deep, slicing through bone.

“Hey, why don’t we go to the ladies’ room and freshen up?” Sarah’s fingers skirt my wrist, lightly tugging. “We’ll take a breath and come back with clear heads.”

I don’t need a clear head. Everything is already crystal. But my feet move of their own volition, following along beside her, my need for space suffocating.

“Sarah…” Hunter warns.

“What?” The woman scowls playfully at him. “I’m just giving her a time-out. We’ll be back soon.”

She leads me through the closet entry into the storage room and past the swinging bathroom doors.

Inside is surprisingly new—renovated, fresh paint, clean tiles, dust-covered stone vanity—all the pretty in contrast to the worn features staring back at me in the mirror.

“We’re running out of time.” I hang my head, slipping closer toward breakdown territory.

“Is there a clock I don’t know about?” Sarah cocks her hip against the vanity, her aura exuding confidence.

“My brother is volatile. He won’t have the patience to keep Salvatore alive for long.”

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