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Chapter 71
“Maybe aren’t cut out for this after all. Flinching at the mere sight of blood, Miss?”
The remark catches me off-guard, but my eyes don’t leave the sight in front of me, standing on the other side of an interrogation room, much like what they have in police stations. However, instead of the usual blues and grays of police stations, this one has white walls on the mirrored side, save for the dried bloodstains on the floor and the walls, which I think is intentional, giving the occupants of the room a preview of what they can look forward to.
The white motif is followed on our side of the room, which reminds me of a hospital. The same mechanics work, we can see and hear everything going on inside, but those who are inside cannot.
Beltini returns to my side of the room wh
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There aren’t enough words to describe the gore in front of me, and that’s just on the visuals, not to mention the smell. The room is surprisingly hot, and the poor ventilation does nothing to help with the quickly desiccating smell of blood and flesh. I’ve watched Beltini beat them up and pry each of their fingernails one by one, and seeing the outcome firsthand stirs up whatever I ate in the restaurant hours ago. The one on my left looks worse than the one on the right. Beltini had tortured him more, beating him up with a crazed smile on his face, but this man is too proud, the determination shining brightly in his eyes. He won’t break, at least not soon enough. Poor things.
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“That’s absurd. You can’t lead us.”I don’t stop the scoff that leaves my lips. What I’m asking for isn’t absurd, but the general reaction from Beltini is.But I won’t allow him to stop me. Standing up a little straighter, I fix every man in the room with a stern look, daring them to speak against me. Killian, Daveed, and Luca give me a small nod, a small gesture but a vow to follow my command. The rest of the room comprises Beltini’s men and some of Dante’s.It’s a bad mix, but I would have to make do. I can’t rescue Dante on my own, I would need their help. So, I need to win them over, one way or another.“And why the hell not? I feel li
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My hands don’t shake, not when my heart hammers in my chest, and not when I’m pointing a gun to a man’s head.Man.This is no man.“I wasn’t asking. Take me to my husband. Now.” There’s no time to lose.I’ve seen what happened to his men. Broken, bleeding, and dead in an otherwise pristine interrogation room. And whatever damage Beltini did to them physically, I know I did to that poor Jason mentally. He sang like a canary after what I did. And I’m glad Luca killed him when he told us where Dante was because t
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Move. Fucking move!But my legs remain rooted to the floor.My eyes are fixated on Dante’s, wanting nothing more than to gut every person who hurt him. Seeing him hurt, makes me hurt so I want to hurt someone and everyone else.My feet begin to move then, running toward him only to be stopped by the two men in white lab coats. I struggle in their holds, screaming as I do so, calling for Dante over and over but he never looks at me, just keeps thrashing and screaming. And God,
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“Dante?” I call out weakly. I’m at his side now, stroking his bruised face as gently as I can. “Hang on.”Ricci has fallen to the ground after I shot him, hand flying to his stomach where the bullet had found its home. His pained howling fades into the background because I can’t be bothered to pay attention to that pig right now. Dante needs me.Gently, I take out all the syringes that were jammed into his arm. Luckily, not all of the liquid has been injected. Carefully, I pull each syringe out, finding caps on the trays and closing them, hoping that Luca can find more about them.“They’ll be here any second now,
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Escaping that stronghold was a blur. I vaguely remember Daveed barking orders, telling our men to retreat. I remember hearing the gunshots. I remember stumbling forward but Luca was there to haul me back up on my feet. And I remember being shoved into the back of the SUV, with Dante beside me, thrashing in pain. His eyes were closed but I could tell he was conscious.“Keep the pressure here. Don’t let go.” Daveed instructs, pressing my palms harder against Dante’s wound. “We’re busting out of here. Try to stay low.”“H-He’s—Dante’s--”“Dante will be alright, Jean. Focus.”
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I spend an hour like that. Staring openly at the ceiling, doing everything I can to not close my eyes for too long, because then, I’ll start to see their faces again. I’ll start to see how their faces contort in pain before their bodies drop dead to the ground with a heavy thud. My mind is so fucked up, maybe I should have asked for sleeping pills. “Please just go away,” I mutter under my breath, eyes squeezing shut. “Please leave me alone. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please go away. I’m sorry--” I choke on the last word, as a sob leaves my lips. “I-
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“I’m coming for you, my sweet, Jean.”“You look so much like her… so much like your mother…”The voice filters into my head like hot lava, heavy and dreadful. It sears into my brain and invades all of my senses leaving me scratching at my head, my face, my ears, and even my eyes for any kind of reprieve from the pain.“You grew up to be so strong… so murderous.”No!
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