Page 86 of The Gilded Cuff
She crouched as though to pick up her heels and the second her body was coiled tight, she sprang at Antonio’s legs. He grunted as they collided and they both fell to the ground next to the stairs. She rolled and was on her feet running up the stairs. Her legs were weak and rubbery from the drug he’d injected but her desire to survive overrode the drug’s effects.
He was too fast. Gripping her left ankle, he jerked and she tripped, smacking hard into the wooden stairs. She clipped her she rocketed up the chin and stars dotted her vision for a second. It was a second too long. Antonio, breathing hard, crawled up her body, knife in hand. In a frantic scramble of limbs she reared back, head-butting him. His agonized shout was the only urging she needed to ram her elbows into him and dislodge him from her back. Her skirt ripped up her leg as she crawled up the cellar steps. Adrenaline kicked in and remaining decaying wooden planks. She turned the rusted doorknob and plunged into the moonlight splendor of a crumbling ballroom.
Brilliant milky moonbeams burst through the high shattered windows of the mansion. Faint shadows formed spirals on the pale whitewashed walls. Ivy snaked up a staircase that led to nowhere and laced the edges of the broken window panes. Stone crunched ahead of her and suddenly Emery and Hans swept around the nearest doorway, stepping into the ballroom. Moonlight fell through the half-collapsed ceiling, striking the barrel of the pistol Emery aimed in her direction.
“Em—” Her warning shout was silenced as Antonio grabbed her from behind, the blade pressing against her throat. Her hands shot up automatically to grab his forearm, but when she dug her nails into it to drag it away, he pressed the blade deeper into her skin.
Hans and Emery froze, guns trained on Antonio, but she knew they didn’t have a clear shot. He was hunched behind her, using her as a shield, and the cellar doorway behind them offered cover and prevented Emery and Hans from shifting to a better angle.
“Welcome home, boy,” Antonio chuckled. “Did you miss me and our time together?”
“Fuck you,” Emery replied coldly.
“Manners, boy, manners.” The blade sank into her skin, cutting like butter. Blood oozed down her neck. Sophie met Emery’s gaze, her eyes widening as she saw something on his face that made her go numb. His eyes glazed over, and he shook his head as though troubled with some inner demon whispering poison in his head. A man tortured…
***
The blood trickled down Sophie’s neck and Emery couldn’t breathe. The headache struck without warning and he fought to stay in control, but he could feel it crawling through his skin like a panther prowling through the shadows of the Amazon forest, seeking prey. The presence of the other man, the one who’d drive him to madness, was back.
The black bull was massive and stood absolutely still in the loading pen, its eyes like twin pools of crude oil, unblinking and darker than the pits of hell. Its nostrils flared once, twice, a heavy snort. He was going to ride this beast even if it killed him. The prize money was his last chance.
Emery shook his head, ridding himself of the presence, if only for a second.
“Weapons down, you and your bodyguard. Kick them over to me.”
“Shoot him!” Sophie gasped. “Kill him now, for God’s sake!” She struggled and the blade at her throat cut deeper. The cry of pain that escaped her lips made his blood freeze. The memories, like ghosts, haunted him in his sleep, but this wasn’t a dream. Antonio was going to hurt someone else he loved and the bastard would do it to torture Emery. He cocked the gun, held it ready for the shot to clear, but Antonio repositioned himself again, keeping Sophie in front of him.
“Don’t test me, boy. You know I’ll push back,” Antonio cautioned but the jackal grin on his face said everything. If Emery crossed the line, Antonio would slit her throat in an instant.
This time when the blade bit into her, Sophie didn’t make a sound. She closed her eyes as the trickle of blood deepened to a ruby line soaking the bodice of her gown.
“Hans,” Emery murmured quietly.
“Yeah,” Hans answered back, understanding his silent instruction. At the same time they lowered their guns to the floor and kicked them in Antonio’s direction. They’d devoted years to preparing for scenarios like this, they were always working out every strategy and they were prepared to do whatever was necessary. Their guns skidded over the ballroom floor, clouds of dust billowing up in their wakes as they came to rest at Sophie and Antonio’s feet.
Antonio removed the knife from Sophie’s neck and then in a wicked jab, he sank the blade into her stomach and pulled it out.
“Sophie!” Emery bellowed and started toward them.
She jerked and then turned in Antonio’s arms as though to fight off further attacks. He grinned at her and then shoved her away. She fell to the ground, coughing and moaning as she clutched her bleeding stomach. Antonio bent, grabbed the guns, and straightened, firing straight at Hans. The bodyguard jerked with the impact of the bullet to his chest and went down. Emery stood in the center of the ballroom, arms raised, palms empty as he faced down the man who’d ruined his life and taken his brother, his woman, and his bodyguard from him.
“It was always supposed to be just you and me, Emery. You shouldn’t have gotten involved with her and I told you not to bring your rent-a-cop. What’s a man supposed to do when you don’t follow instructions?” Antonio’s eyes were wild, his face so twisted that he looked even more unstable than Emery remembered.
Emery glanced at Hans, who lay facedown, unmoving. God…He prayed his friend wasn’t gone. They’d planned for this, they’d planned…
Sophie moved, her body writhing slowly as she tried to drag herself away from Antonio. Blood darkened her dress just above her stomach and she pressed her hand over the wound to staunch the blood flow.
“She’ll be fine, for now.” Antonio was watching her too. “I know how to kill and I also know how to wound. I’m saving her for later, after I’m done with you. She’ll get what’s coming to her. She’s a lying little bitch. She never truly loved you, told me so herself when she woke up.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet she did.” Emery replied, his gaze shooting to Sophie’s. She met his eyes, steady although pain-filled, and he could read the message there. He’d always been able to read her, and now was no different. He prayed she could read him the same way.
I love you. No matter what happens, I belong to you, Sophie.
She blinked. Tears slid down her cheeks and she gave an infinitesimal nod back.
Emery turned his attention back to Antonio. “Fine. You want to play, let’s play. No guns, just fists. The way you like it.”
“Ah, so you do remember our time together. I was beginning to think you were like your brother. Apparently he’s a fucking head case, can’t remember anything about his life before I took him.”
