Page 44 of Tortured Hearts
“What the hell do you think you’re in right now, bitch?”
“Fair point. However, I’m a pawn in this family feud,” I say, holding his stare. “And we both know I’m more valuable alive than dead, or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“Listen, you?—”
“So let me be clear…” My heart is beating so fast it feels like a thoroughbred is trampling my chest, but I push forward. “Who do you thinkMarcello would hold responsible if a doctor had to be called in?” I cock my chin. “I don’t think he’d appreciatemorepeople knowing he’s holding an innocent woman captive.”
“No one who finds themselves here is innocent, lady.”
“Were any of them a police chief’s daughter?” I counter. “One who knows all about your boss’s dirty little Rogue side venture?”
As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I want to shove them back in. Reminding a criminal you’re a cop’s daughter is bad enough, but throwing mob secrets in the mix is suicide. Plus, we both know my threats are empty. A man on the FBI’s radar would never outsource medical care. However, the longer the guard’s silence stretches, the stronger my hope grows.
His pupils widen, devouring every sliver of brown until there’s nothing left but darkness and doubt. Then the pressure on my shoulder and forehead disappears, and he shoves his gun back in its holster. “I’ll be back.” Offering no further explanation, he walks out, slamming the door behind him.
I bow my head, the knotted tension in my shoulders easing. I’m not arrogant enough to take those words at face value. He could return with a command to grant my request or an order to snap my neck.
I stumble down the stairs with a rattly cough. Whatever happens, at least it’ll be on my terms. Once my feet touch the floor, a wave of exhaustion hits, and I lean against the wall.
Ball’s in your court, Marchesi.
I’m on my thirty-fourth lap around the room when I hear the door click open. I cut my eyes toward the staircase, expecting to see the same sullen-faced guard. Instead, it’s the last person I anticipate finding.
“Henry…” I stammer, panic overriding survival. The copper-haired “boy next door” is gone, along with his kind smile. In his place stands a predator. “What are you doing here?”
“Let’s not play games, Doctor. They no longer interest me.” He descends the steps slowly, flashing a lethal sneer I recognize all too well.
I think back to the first moment I met him at the dock warehouse, so willing to help me find Gianni, then at the same time so mercurial, so one-dimensional, so full of questions that were none of his business.
How did I not see it?
“Where’s the guard?”
“Woodchipper. Pig farm.” He offers a distracted shrug. “Hard to say. Marcello is creative with his cleanups.”
“He’s dead?”
“You sound surprised. I’d think a woman of your intelligence would realize the consequences of her actions.”
I scowl, my panic turning volatile. “That’s rich coming from you.”
He hops off the last step. “I’m not the one locked in a basement. I’m also not the one who informed a low-level guard his boss had infiltrated a forbidden territory. Here’s a tip… When threatening a man with his boss’s ‘dirty little Rogue secret,’ make sure he’s in on said secret.”
“Like you?” I bite out, lifting my red, swollen wrist. “Is this your handiwork?”
I shiver at his burst of maniacal laughter. “You were ridiculously easy to manipulate, Becca.” A few strides bring us face to face, the scent of his cheap aftershave turning my stomach. “Gianni never shut up about you, giving me every weapon I needed.”
For my every stumble backward, he takes a step forward, closing in on me faster than humanly possible. “I don’t know what youmean.”
Stall him. Keep him talking.
“Oh, please. We both know you were nothing but a replacement.” Pausing, he tilts his chin. “You know, it’s actually kind of funny. You pride yourself on getting inside people’s heads when it was Gianni who got into yours.”
“You’re wrong.”
“If I was, you wouldn’t be here.” At my involuntary wince, he flashes a smile that never reaches his eyes. “Gianni and Marcello are the same person, sweetheart. The only difference is one embraces who he is while the other fights it.”
I clench my fists by my side. “Gianni is nothing like his father.”
