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Chapter 34
There is a lump in my throat. Ryan is sitting next to me on the couch, pulling a pair of sweatpants over his legs. My heart is hurting. Hurting. How do I make it stop? I can't stop thinking about that infected wound on his arm!
Will I ever get to taste those lips after today?
How long will it take for him to turn into a zombie?
Will he die?
I know that we don't have much time, that we need to drive to my father's mansion to look for a cure. But part of me feels safe being here on the couch with Ryan. It's as if my brain thinks being near him will somehow prevent him from turning into a braindead zombie.
"Do you think we need to bring a lot of men with us?" Ryan is scratching his chin while resting his eyes on me. Watching him makes it harder to breathe—please don't leave me. Don't turn into a zombie. "I was hoping to be discreet about this mission. Bringing a lot of people might not be a good idea."
"Who you want to bring?" I try to so
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Stepping into the car feels wrong, like something terrible is about to happen. Yet I open the door to climb into the vehicle—Courtney is already sitting in her seat, glaring daggers at me. Her hair is flowing around her dolled-up face, and my eyes land on the cut right below her nose and upper lip. Did I cause that? The makeup is doing nothing to hide the scar. "Look at what you did to my beautiful face, Amelia," Courtney says. "This is your work." My gaze turns bitter. "I'm sorry, but if you hadn't tried to stop me from making my own decisions, then you would still be as pretty as a Barbie." Courtney looks ready to murder me. Her mouth opens and closes, and I lift my eyebrows. "What?" I ask. "I thought we were friends..." Courtney says. "Were we truly friends, or did you only hang out with me because Ryan told you to?" I can hear Zoya snort behind me, but she catches herself in the last second and climbs into the miniv
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When we arrive at my father's mansion, the gate is already opened, and there are no cars in the courtyard. And when we step out of the vehicle, the door to the mansion is open. It's slamming back and forth in the wind, making goosebumps prickle over my skin.Something is wrong.Giovani groans. "Where is everyone?""I don't know," Billy replies and walks towards the mansion. "There are blood marks on the door; maybe the zombies came here before us?""That means we need to work fast while the sun is up," Giovani says and nods at Zoya. "You and I will check upstairs, secure that floor; if we don't find anyone, we call the others in."Zoya nods a reply and then silently follows the bear-like man towards the luxurious mansion."Ugh, it's so cold... I will wait inside the car..." Courtney shudders and closes the car door. Hugo and Billy light up cigars, and I turn around to face Ryan."How are you feeling?" I dare to ask.Ryan peers
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"There is no end to these zombies!" While Giovani shoots down zombie after zombie, I watch my father observe us with a smile plastered to his face. Odd how he isn't helping his zombie companions fight and instead turns around to disappear into another room slowly. "If you want to save your cute little lover, chat with me in the other room, Amelia." My father speaks from the door frame. A smile is glittering over his thin lips. "Come on, follow me." Ryan falls onto his knees and glances up at me. He seems to be struggling not to turn into a zombie. "Don't follow him." I bite my lower lip. Ryan looks sickly pale, and I know I don't have much time to make my decision. I should follow my father, right? The others have joined us and are shooting zombies to the left and right—I could easily track my father into the other room. It might be my only chance to prevent Ryan's death. "Stay here," I order Ryan. "I will see what my father has to say."
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My father doesn't have to tell me twice. I saw Giovani snatch one of the vials and dash with a purpose to grab the other. Courtney is coughing, a true friend would probably check on her, but I have this feeling she will be alright—it's Ryan I need to worry about."Run to him, Amelia, before it's too late!"I shudder. My father is laughing like a maniac in the background until I hear the sound of a firing gun silencing him—Giovani must have shot him. I don't know. Neither do I have time to look behind me; finding Ryan is my top priority."Be okay, please be okay!" I chant to myself while moving.Stress makes my heart clench, worry makes my stomach lurch. I hope to God that I'm not too late.Running through the door, I enter the room with the shattered glass all over the floor, seeing Ryan sitting on the floor. His back is leaning against the wall, and his gaze immediately locks on me."Amelia!" He sounds weak, yet he smiles at me.
Kidnapped By The Mafia Boss Chapter 39
One Year Later I replay the events that unfolded in my father's mansion every day, usually in the form of nightmares that haunt me at night. There are so many things that I could have done differently that day, ways of how I could have saved Ryan. It hurts remembering him. I can no longer visualize precisely how his face looked like, but I can remember how he made me feel, which usually ends up with me in tears. Most of the time, I cry alone inside my room and pretend that rush of hurt and pain never hit me like a wave when I walk out to the others, even if I know that everyone living inside this mansion is aware of my pain. "He is still alive. It's Ryan we are talking about," Zoya has told me plenty of times with her hand on my back. "Killing him is like trying to get to a cockroach—they always survive." I pray that she is right. For the past months, I've been searching for Ryan everywhere. I hunt for materials and food every day. I'm
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Gulping, I determinedly jump into my car even if it isn't standing in the same place I parked it. An old rock song starts playing from the CD inserted ages ago. It randomly plays now and then, and I celebrate inwardly when the car moves away from the forest clearing to It's My Life by Bon Jovi. It's a bumpy ride, and I sing along with the song while taking off my blouse. I'm practically shouting the lyrics, and trust me, I'm entirely tone-deaf, the person who makes babies cry. Who cares? No one is listening. "Do you always sing in the car?" A deep, familiar voice asks from behind my shoulders—startling me to the point it causes a knee-jerk reaction. I almost drive off the road, and the bobblehead of a dancing Stitch figure topple down on the floor, rolling to the back of the car. "Fuck!" I splutter, looking into the rearview mirror and getting the shock of my life—Ryan is sitting in the backseat. I freeze but somehow manage to
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Feeling a shiver run down my spine, I stare at Ryan—he is waiting for my reaction by the looks of it. Smirking behind the wheel with his charm bleeding into his features. "M-Mate?" I question. My father mentioned something about hybrids having mates, but I assumed their mates could only be hybrids themselves. Kind of like wolves only picking other wolves to mate with; then again, dogs exist for a reason. "Did I stutter?" Ryan asks. His cold tone got me crossing my arms across my chest until I notice the bastard is stifling laughter—he is fucking with me. "I'm just not sure what that means," I'm not lying. "Is it some magical bond between people?" "Hm, I guess you could call it that..." "Sounds like lots of crap and bullshit." I kick up my feet on the dashboard, not surprised at finding Ryan's new friends still chasing us. Ryan glances at my naked legs, and I grow self-conscious, reminded that I'm only wearing my bra, co
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Ryan I glance down at my mate through hooded eyes. Her newly discovered fear of me makes her appear smaller, and I hold my breath, not sure how to fix this building wall between us. I don't want her to be fearful of me—she is the last person on this planet that I would hurt. "Maybe I went too far..." I comment. She doesn't answer. Numbing pain is rumbling through me, and a raw scream of loneliness echoes through the walls of my mind. Without my memories, I don't understand where this darkness within me comes from. I think I used to be a psychopath in my past life, and my precious mate got to witness my corruption from the front row, see how I tore out the heart of my enemies with ease. There is no wonder she is afraid of me. Not knowing what else to do, I crouch down and take a seat under the blazing sun. Hybrids aren't sensitive to light, we share that feature with humans, but sweating isn't something I can control.
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