Page 24 of Fatal Love

For what felt like an eternity, I stared at the sky, willing myself to take a breath. Pain radiated through my body in ways I had never experienced. While I didn’t think anything was broken, I hurt like hell. Once I caught my breath enough, I rolled to my knees and pushed to stand. The world tilted on its access for a moment, causing black dots to swim in my vision. Passing out was the last thing I needed. There was a good chance someone was following him, and I had to get the hell away from here before Dmitri Ivanov came for me. Because without a doubt I knew he was behind this. I'd been so stupid to leave the house.

I was literally in the middle of the desert. Forcing one foot in front of the other, I disappeared into the sparse cover of trees. The brush would give me some cover in the event someone drove down the road. While traipsing through the heat wasn't the brightest idea, taking a chance a passing car wasn't a friendly was far more dangerous. Glancing into the sun, I sighed. At least It would be hours before it got dark. Moving further into the desert, I prayed I was walking in the right direction—otherwise, I Dmitri Ivanov would be the least of my worries come nightfall.

The heat bore down on me even after the sun had set. I had to keep moving despite the fact my feet were killing me. Pain radiated like tiny waves rolling across my body as I forced myself through the sand. I didn’t know where I was or if I was even going in the right direction.

One thing was certain, Ivanov and his goons would not find me—but neither would anyone else. After wandering through a few cactuses, I finally accepted I had no sense of direction and was lost. The sun now hidden beneath the earth only succeeded in making the desert dark and creepy. Putting the sounds of wildlife out of my mind was not an easy feat.

Eventually I’d find a road—or more desert. My foot caught a downed tree, causing me to pitch forward and land on my hands and knees. More pain lanced through my body, my spine protesting at the blunt force. A part of me wanted to lie down and just give up… this is what I deserved for leaving Michael’s house. After taking a few deep breaths, I forced myself to stand. My eyes clenched shut in response to the burning sensation traveling through my veins. Ivanov might not have killed me, but this fucking wasteland probably would.

When I finally opened my eyes, I was certain I was hallucinating. The bright lights of the downtown strip of Vegas loomed in the distance. I wanted to run toward the neon savior that was beckoning me forward, but I was scared. If Ivanov’s men were somewhere out there, I was good as dead. But I had to find help. Refusing to give him what he wanted, I slowly pushed through the bushes, hiding among the shadows of the buildings.

People shot me a few puzzled expressions but made no attempt to help or stop me. I'm pretty sure I looked look like a homeless person—or worse, a crackhead, but maybe that allowed me to move through the city without being bothered. Vincenzo’s restaurant was closest, but the people there didn’t know me. There was only one option—Discoteca. I knew that Antonio’s brother, Massimo, lived on the top floor, so my chances of finding someone who could help there were significantly higher.

I hugged the brick walls as I edged my way down the strip, ducking my head when anyone looked at me walking by. The bright sign of Discoteca gleamed against the night sky like a beacon of hope, calling me forward. There was a massive line of people that wrapped around the sidewalk, waiting to get in. I didn’t look like someone who belonged in the club seeing as my clothes were ripped, and my body was littered with bruises and scrapes. Not to mention I felt as bad as I looked and was near passing out from exhaustion and dehydration. Turning on my heel, I found myself in the alley. It was dimly lit, casting an eerie glow across the pavement. Of course, the back door was locked. My eyes welled with tears as I slid down the hard surface of the wall. My energy was gone, and I couldn’t even force myself to go back out front.

A woman’s voice startled me, causing my eyes to snap open. “Hey, are you all right?” My vision swam, blurring as I tried to see who was standing in front of me.

“Holy shit. Freddy, get Massimo. It’s Rachel.” A warm hand pressed down on my shoulder. “Rachel? Honey, can you hear me?”

I blinked, unable to speak. The wear and tear on my body finally made it impossible. Exhaustion demanded I close my eyes and give into the darkness dancing through my mind.

“I got her, Madison.” Strong arms lifted me from the ground, cradling my body as I was carried inside.

The rhythmic motion of his movements told me we were still walking. Familiar sounds of an elevator opening filtered through my ears. “How did she get out there?”

“I don’t know, Massimo. She didn’t say anything?”

“Call Antonio. He needs to know she’s here. I’m calling Catarina—she needs to be looked over. I’m concerned she needs a hospital.”

Massimo, who I assumed had been carrying me, laid me down on something soft. I tried to open my eyelids, but they felt like they'd been glued shut. No longer able to fight the pull of darkness, I let myself succumb.

I knew for the first time in what had to have been hours, I was finally safe.

Thirteen

Antonio

“Antonio.” Massimo growled through the phone. His irritation was clear in his tone.

I glanced over at Michael, who was driving us home from our meeting with Agent Jackson. “What’s the matter? Is it Vin?”

“No. He’s fine. There’s a man at the club that says he was told to find me for protection. I’m headed there now—but he won’t say anything more to Donny.”

“Who would tell him to come to you for protection? And protection from what?”

Massimo sighed. “That’s the thing. He said Rachel Hill sent him.”

I tensed. “Rachel? That makes no sense.”

“No shit. That’s why I’m calling you. What the fuck aren’t you telling me, Little Brother?”

I hesitated, knowing I needed to tell him Rachel had been staying with us. He was a smart man and would read between the lines that this was more than protecting the woman responsible for either clearing Riley’s name or ruining it. “Rachel isn’t missing. She’s been staying at Michael’s house.”

“Come again?” Massimo snapped, his voice raising a few octaves.

“Look. Agent Jackson and the DA know Riley is innocent. When they outed Ivanov on the news, he blew up Rachel’s house. She came here and we’ve been protecting her ever since. I wanted to tell you, but Agent Jackson and the DA felt the fewer people who knew she wasn’t dead, the better.”

“I see." He got quiet, the silence making me worry. "Can you ask her why she sent someone to my club for protection? We’ll deal with the other matter later.”

---