Page 23 of Savior

I grab her the smallest sweat set I have and move back into her room, where she’s running her finger over the cross on the nightstand.

Something about the action is much more meaningful than it should be, and I have to scold myself for looking too long.

“Here you are. If you need anything, my bedroom is on the other side of the living room. There’s food in the kitchen and television if you want to watch anything. I sleep hard, so you don’t need to be quiet.”

She snatches up the sweatpants as I ramble and slides into them, letting the nightgown fall over them as she tugs her feet through.

“Alright. Does Ardesia know how long it’ll be until I can go free? Or has he found any of my belongings from the first man who took me? I’d love to call my best friend,” she’s saying, but her words are muffled in my ears as she’s pulled her gown off. Her breasts are heavy and sinful on her chest as she grabs the sweatshirt and begins putting it on.

Her dusky nipples bead at the cool air on them, and I can’t look away if I fucking tried.

She doesn’t register my spiralling, though. She hands me the nightgown, looks me deep in my eyes, and says, “Burn this, will you?”

I nod, ready to do whatever she tells me to. “I will.”

I turn to leave, and her words finally hit my brain. “First man who took you?”

“Don Adamo held me in a basement with other girls. There are others down there still, some very young. He sold me toMatteo,” she recounts, and her harrowing journey has my grip tightening on the nightgown in my hand.

“Are you alright, Sloane?” I turn back, stopping when I register her flinch of discomfort.

“I’m… I survived. I’m fine.”

I nod, knowing not to push her further than she’s willing to talk. “Well, if you need anything or need to talk, I have a lot of resources at my disposal. If you don’t want to talk to me, I can find someone who will listen. Someone who can help.”

She seems offended by the idea. “I’ll be fine, Father Russo. I always am.”

She climbs into bed, gets under the covers, and turns her back to me.

Like Samson, she’s the pillar of strength, blessed with immense courage to undergo her trials. She, too, was given the blessing of endurance. But I’d give anything for her not have endure another horror.

An hour later, I’m standing over the burn barrel in the courtyard, the one we usually use for leaves in the fall, watching her nightgown burn.

“So, Adamo had her, eh?” Ardesia says, and my lip snarls over my teeth at the reminder. I squeeze the phone in my hand.

“Yes, that’s what she said. She also said there are more girls in his basement.”

“Problem is,” Ardesia goes on, “which fucking basement? All these bastards have a million fucking houses. Those girls could be anywhere. Could she tell you how long her car ride to Matteo’s house was?”

I shake my head at the idea of pushing her anymore, even though he can’t see me. “I think it’s going to take time, Slate. I think Matteo…” I swallow, unable to speak the words aloud.

“You think he raped her?” he says absently, and I hear as he scrubs over his face in defeat.

We’d gotten to her the quickest we could. While not in any of the five families, Matteo Baroneis a force to be reckoned with. He has money and owns half of New York. He’s the man thefamiliesall want allegiance with.

And only one has it.

The Adamos.

I’m very confident that what Slate did to get Sloane back for me will begin a bloody war between the five.

One we haven’t seen for decades.

“I can’t push her, Ardesia,” I say curtly.

“I understand, Father. When she’s ready, if she’s ever ready, see what she knows. It could help us free the other girls.”

“I’m so sick of this shit,” I say, exasperated.

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