Page 38 of The Italian Reckoning
Completely dazed, I lie there for a few long seconds as pain throbs like a bullet train through my skull. Does it hurt so much because she’s stronger than I realized or because she caught me off guard? Holy shit, she hits hard.
Maybe it was the adrenaline.
“Ow,” I groan, blearily pushing myself up on one arm and wincing as the change in state sends a roll of nausea through my tilted balance. “If you’d just let me—Sarah?”
The door to the room hangs open and an empty hall gapes at me, utterly silent.
“Fuck!”
She’s fast. Faster than I give her credit for. The doors close on the elevator just as I make it into the hall, and the last thing I see is her flipping me off with tears pouring down her cheeks. Having to take the stairs wastes precious time and when I make it out onto the casino floor, I only catch a glimpse of her blonde head sprinting for her life out the entrance doors.
Yelling for her is pointless in a place this busy, so I race after her and make it outside, but once again, I’m too late. As I stumble to a stop and scan the surge of people heading into the casino, Sarah is on the other side of the street, running full speed down the sidewalk toward a bus that’s blinking its lights and about to leave.
“No!” If I lose her, I have no way of tracking her and then I won’t be able to protect her. The faster I run, the harder my heart pounds, but Sarah makes it onto the bus and leaves me in the dust. Luckily, my bike is parked nearby. With the number of the bus racing through my mind on repeat, I shove my helmet onto my head and race off down the street to a concert of swearing people and screeching horns. I don’t give a fuck about anyoneelse's safety. I need to get Sarah back under my protection as soon as possible.
Within a few minutes of chasing the bus, I realize it’s heading to the depot. If Sarah makes it there, then there’s no telling what bus she could get on next, and then I really could lose her for good. With this in mind, I veer off from following the bus directly and race straight to the station, taking every shortcut and side route I know about while praying that she doesn’t get off the bus early. Screeching to a halt outside the station, I throw myself off my bike and sprint inside.
Bus after bus pulls into the depot to unload a sea of passengers, but none of them are Sarah’s bus. Did I miscalculate? Was the bus actually going somewhere else? How did this end up going so terribly so quickly?
I never should have untied her. I should have stuck to my guns and kept her in that chair no matter how hard she cried. Kicking myself, I pace up and down the main walkway scanning every single bus until finally one pulls in matching the number of the bus Sarah was on. I skid to a stop and grip the railing, glaring down at the bus and scanning every head that passes by.
Not her. Not her. Where is she?
There are almost too many people to count and my heart begins to slow as realization settles deep in my shoulders. I lost her.
She must have gotten off before the bus came here. I made a calculated risk and failed—wait!
Sarah finally steps off the bus, rubbing at her eyes and staring around her like a rabbit waiting for the fox to pounce. She’s visibly shaken, with her face flushed and her chest still heaving like she just ran the length of the bus.
Fuck.
Taking the stairs two at a time, I sprint down to her and weave through the ever-thickening crowd. Each person thatbumps into me drives my irritation higher and higher, leaving me wound as tight as a rubber band by the time I reach Sarah and grab her by the elbow.
“Let go!” She spins to face me, raising her hand with her palm open, but her slap doesn’t make contact. Fear turns into relief in an instant and tears flood her eyes. “Oh, my God, it’s you. Thank God.”
Thank God?
Wait…shit. She doesn’t recognize me because I never took off my helmet. She still doesn’t know that it’s me underneath the mask.
“You have to help me, please!” Sarah clutches at my arms, her grip like iron despite the fear evident across her beautiful features. “This maniac is chasing me, he kidnapped me, and I don’t… I don’t know who you are, but you’re always in the right place at the right time and I’m just…Please.”
Little does she know that themaniacis actually trying to help her too, but if using this persona will help me get her back somewhere safe, then I’ll lean into it.
“Come with me.” All I need to do is get her on the bike and back to the casino. I’ll make sure she’s behind a locked door before I reveal my identity, though. The last thing I need is her bolting away from me in fear yet again.
Sarah takes my hand, and the relief is so pure on her face that my heart aches as if something has become lodged next to it in my chest.
Guilt.
Even if it’s for her own good, I’m still deceiving her.
I lead her out of the bus station, but we only make it a few feet outside when I glimpse something that makes my heart sink. A man wearing a charcoal suit and tan boots. He works for my father. Keeping a tight grip on Sarah’s hand, I turn the opposite way away from my bike, but we only walk for ten seconds beforeanother man melts from the crowd wearing the exact same attire.
Sarah appears oblivious, and I try to keep it that way until we’re backed into a corner and my father’s men are between us and my bike.
“Sarah Gogs?” one asks, pulling a handgun from his belt.
“I’ll scream,” she snaps hoarsely. “I’ll make everyone turn and see you!”
