Page 5 of Hostile Devil
His beautiful face is etched with shadows, the ferocity of his expression terrifying as he concentrates.
I try to speak, to whisper even, but my jaw won’t unlock. Words refuse to come out, only a dry murmur that goes unnoticed as he focuses.
Oh, my God, I’m paralyzed.
Internally screaming, I watch him skillfully unfasten the belt buckle and unthread the leather from the waist of his dress pants.
Panting, he flaps the belt a few times like a fisherman casting his bait. Eventually, the hole punched end lands in his opposite hand. From there, he patiently tucks it beneath his wrist and feeds the length in through the zip tie’s loop.
Lying here, in awe of his quick thinking, it all comes flooding back to me. How our vehicle was hit from the side, and he had shot two men in the chest when they dragged me from the Rolls, kicking and biting.
I study the bloodied gash above his eyebrow and recall the exact moment he’d earned it. When more men appeared and the barrel of a Glock had clattered against my teeth––how he instantly stilled and shouted for them to stop––giving his own hooded attackers a chance to knock him out.
Giovanni could have saved himself or continued to fight for his own freedom. He could have even headed home to protect Leo from a potential threat at Blackwater.
But he didn’t. He put me first.
And now we’re being held in an unfamiliar dim space that stinks of death.
My pulse thumps in my skull. My fingertips begin to tingle as they barely move on the cold metal under me, sensation trickling back. Gio stays focused and persistent, working hard to secure both ends of the belt together again to form a circle that's linked to the zip tie.
Lifting his foot, he places it on the leather and thrusts his leg downward in a violent stomp.
The force of it snaps the stubborn plastic and his arm is miraculously free. It's easy for him to repeat the process on his opposite arm now with one hand released.
And the second he bounces out of the seat, rising to his mountainous stature, he looks right at me. He stands there, war-torn and imposing, his expensive clothes molding a muscular physique and his aura as black as hell.
“India…” Sweat glistens on his brow and his chest heaves. Determined strides carry him straight to me.
I want to throw myself at him and hug him close. To hear the sound of his heartbeat next to mine. Inhale the addictive scent of his skin, but I’m powerless. Still utterly immobilized.
“I’m here.” He palms my cheeks, the expanse of his large hands siphoning heat through me. “You okay, baby? Talk to me.”
I swallow the bile burning my throat, aware the tempo of my pulse is picking up now. “Leo?” I murmur, my question breathy.
“No one can get into Blackwater. He should be safe for now.” Giovanni hurriedly pats himself down, hunkering out of sight and returning with a switchblade. “The fuckers took everything from me. But they didn’t notice this. I had it hidden in my ankle sock. Once we get out of here, I’ll make contact with Lola.”
Taking my hand, he squeezes it and pins me with his intense green gaze. “You were sedated after the crash. Do you remember?”
“Sort of.”
“You’ll feel a bit off, but I need you to fight it. Sit up if you can.”
My legs are heavy, and my mind is foggy. I let him haul me upright where he holds me next to his chest, the thrum of his heartbeat loud in my ear.
“My legs feel weird,” I whisper.
I’m unbearably weak and helpless, something I’d only ever felt in the days following Reno’s murder. This isn’t me, and I hate it.
“The effects won’t last for long.” A crease furrows his brow as he runs his hands over my bare arms, down my spine, and then hitches my dress up to check my naked legs. His searching eyes inspect every inch of my prickled skin. “Did they do anything else to you?” I shake my head. “Good. You’ll feel more like yourself in a few minutes. But we don’t have time to wait around. When we reach the other side of that curtain, stay behind me until I see what we’re up against.”
He tucks a straggly lock of hair behind my ear and presses his lips to the crown of my head. “Focus on getting yourself out of here. Can you do that for me?”
I frown at him. “We’re both getting out of here, Gio.”
Giovanni immediately scoops me up in his powerful arms and sets me on my feet. My ankles tremble, the heels I’m wearing not helping my questionable balance.
“India.” Snaking an arm around my lower back, he snares my jaw, the movement urgent, and tilts my head backwards. My heart comes alive, the rhythm of every chaotic beat full of love. “Whatever shit goes down; you need to get the fuck out of this building. There’s only two of us and a crowd of them. If for some reason we split up, promise me you’ll make a run for it. I can look after myself, so just stick to the plan and find a way home.Comprendes?”
