Page 75 of Salvatore

Once more won’t break her?

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I turn on him.

“He’s right.” Remy approaches. “We don’t know how many of the cartel are in there. If you get caught, you’re dead, and we’re sitting fucking ducks.”

I yank my arm free and continue toward the balcony. “You’ll survive.”

They bump past me, blocking my path.

“It was one scream,” Matthew snarls. “It could’ve been a fucking nightmare for all we know.”

“You think she’s sleeping?” I get in his face. “With the music blaring and her nerves shot to shit while she waits to be rescued?” I’d told her to do as much, yet the request was nothing but lip service. A weak attempt to placate my guilt for leaving her trapped. “Get out of my fucking way.”

“Hey.” Matthew raises his hands in surrender, eying me like the cornered beast I fucking embody. “Easy. You need to think this through.”

There’s no fucking time.

“If you go storming in there and catch one of them attacking her, what do you think they’re going to do?” His tone holds sickening calm, transitioning from his prized carpenter role into a crisis mediator.

“They’ll put a gun to her head,” Remy cuts in. “They could break her fucking neck before you even stepped foot inside.”

“We want her out alive, right?” Matthew holds my gaze. “That’s the end game here, isn’t it? So make peace with the injustice, swallow the rage, and promise yourself you’ll get her the help she needs once she’s safe. But for now, focus on helping me with this goddamn door.”

18

IVY

I lie in bed,eyes closed, wishing the minutes away as nerves eat at my belly, their sharp teeth rabid for action. The thought of freedom is too much optimism for me to handle. And the even more persistent concept of Salvatore being my hero has me confused as hell.

The music gets louder. Bright light blasts the back of my eyelids.

I crack open an eye and find José slinking into my room, then closing the door silently behind him. “Heymamacita.” He leers at me through the moonlight. “Your brother passed out on the sofa and the other guys are gaming, so I thought you could keep me company.”

I scramble onto my knees, my gaze flicking to the balcony in some ridiculously vain grasp at hope. But all that stares back at me is the dark of night.

“Leave,” I demand. “You’re not allowed in here.”

“Says who?”

I back myself against the headboard as he approaches. “Gabriel is waiting for my bruises to fade.”

“He’s not waiting anymore. You’re scheduled in for your first scene tomorrow, and I thought I’d do you a solid and give you some practice before your debut.”

I grab the lamp on the bedside table and give a hard yank, attempting to dislodge the cord from the socket, but it remains stuck. I yank again and again, frantic as he rounds the bed, his subtle chuckle heard over the serenade of a Latin pop song.

“Your brother and I have a bet going.” He places his palms down on the duvet. “He thought you’d be a lousy lay. But I told him you’d be wild as fuck.” He lunges forward, grabbing for my ankle.

I jump from the opposite side of the bed, giving one last yank to release the power cord.

He laughs. “You’re going to be a fighter, aren’t you?”

“I’ll scream, then Alonso will come stop you. I know Gabriel well enough that he wouldn’t appreciate you sampling the merchandise.”

“True, clever girl.” He inclines his head. “But given the sedative I slipped in your brother’s beer, and the sound coming from the speakers in the living room, no matter how loud you yell, you won’t wake him, and the other guys plan to join me once they finish their tournament.”

Terror floods my system.

“And come tomorrow, nobody will believe you if you attempt to tell them the truth,” he taunts.

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