18. Ravenna
Ravenna
E mbarrassment cloaks me. I feel sick to my stomach. I must be hallucinating that the man before me is Cian. Anyone could be behind that black mask. But the drug's effect is starting to diminish and his features are clear. Blond hair, pale blue eyes, strong jawline.
But it can’t be him. Cian O’Rourke wouldn’t rescue me. He won’t even answer a text message. He hates me.
“Who hurt you?” he asks, tearing off his mask and throwing it aside.
It’s him.
My shock battles with the shame of what just happened, of being paraded around half naked in front of strangers. Bid on like an object. Sold to the highest bidder.
All of it against my will, yet there’s nothing I can do about it. My father sold me, now I belong to someone else. I may never see my family, my sister and cousins, again.
I slowly blink. Cian is still there when my eyes open. Why is he here? My brain feels so fuzzy, nothing makes sense, it’s all emotion. A mixture of terror, shame, and disbelief.
“Did you come to rescue me?” My words come out slurred. “It’s too late. It’s over. Someone bought me.”
His pale eyes burn with rage. “Yes. I bought you. You’re mine. You’ll always be mine.”
“You…” I have to think on his words for a while before they make sense.
He bought me.
He owns me.
But he hates me.
“Why?” My question comes out on a sharp breath. None of this makes sense.
“Because you’re my wife. Nothing will ever change that.” His rough thumbs caress my bruised cheeks. Most of the damage is hidden beneath a thick coat of concealer. It hurts, but I welcome the pain, it helps to clear my foggy head.
“You came for me. After everything, you came to rescue me.” Speaking the truth aloud makes it seem more real. Concrete. Irrefutable.
A sob rips from my throat. My body shakes as tears stream down my face.
Cian holds me close and drops his forehead to mine. “Of course I came for you, broc meala. You are, and always will be, mine to rescue. I never should have forced you away. I’m sorry.”
No matter how hard I try, I can’t stop crying. Relief mingles with despair and shame.
My parents sold me at a flesh market. My own mother prepared me for this auction without so much as a protest to my father. I always thought of us as similar, as we both endured Papa’s beatings. But I’m nothing like my mother. I never could have done what she did to my daughter.
And Cian… he came for me. After everything, he saved me.
I close my eyes and let my sobs taper off to hiccups.
Cian speaks against my ear. “Now tell me, who did this to you?”
I focus on his question. I’m about to tell him the truth when I realize the potential ramifications for doing so. At the same time, I can’t lie to him. Never again. That’s a promise I’ve made to myself and I intend to keep it.
“I can’t tell?—”
“You will tell me the truth. Right. Now.” His pale eyes bore into mine, unrelenting.
“But if you know, if you act on it, then you’ll destroy the truce.” I slump. All remaining strength leaves my body.
“I don’t give a fuck about the truce. Tell me, or so help me God, I will kill every Italian I set eyes my on.”
I see the conviction in his gaze. He’s not lying. Cian never lies. Which means I have a choice to make. Either endanger all of my family, my people, or sacrifice just one.
The decision isn’t as difficult as I expected.
“My father,” I whisper.
“He beat you?”
I nod.
“He sold you?”
I nod again.
“Good girl.” Cian presses his lips briefly to mine. Then he stands and exits the small room, leaving me handcuffed and alone. Fear crawls up my spine. Is he going to leave me here?
I struggle against the restraints. They’re old, rudimentary handcuffs attached to a chain that’s looped around the headboard. I can’t stay here.
Now that I can think properly, almost, the room still spins and shifts on occasion like a living beast, I pluck a pin from my hair.
Mama put it up so that my thick mane wouldn’t hide my body from the men who wanted to buy me. I’m repulsed by the memory. How could she do that?
Working the pin into the cuffs, I manage to free myself just as the door swings open again.
I go rigid. My muscles coil with tension, ready to sprint away from danger.
Cian reappears. He drags in my father at gunpoint.
I blink twice to make sure that I am not hallucinating. This scene very well could be wishful thinking. A gruesome daydream.
“You can’t do this to me, O’Rourke. We have a peace treaty,” Papa sputters, face red and eyes bulging. I never realized how much smaller he is than Cian until now. Seeing them side by side, Papa seems like a small, frail man—which he is not.
Cian presses the gun into the back of Papa’s head. “On your knees, Lorenzo. Now.”
Papa seethes at me, as if this is somehow my fault.
Then, like all bullies, my father folds as soon as he doesn’t have the upper hand. Flinging insults at Cian, he lowers himself to his knees.
“Confess,” Cian demands of him.
“Confess to what? I didn’t do anything, you Irish son of a whore.”
Cian’s jaw works for a moment before he says, “You beat your daughter.”
Papa laughs. “The slut deserved it. And after you see reason and let me go, I’m going to beat her all over again. Maybe I’ll even break a few bones this ti–”
Bang!
I jump and scream at the sudden, deafening sound. A few moments pass before I finally realize what happened.
Sticky redness splatters across my legs. Papa slumps, then collapses onto his face. That’s when I note that the gun has a silencer, though the sound was still intense in this small space.
A pool of blood grows around Papa’s head. He’s dead? At least, I think he’s dead. Though that seems impossible. Papa is invincible. No one can kill him. Many have tried over the years. He would never die. Until now…
But if death was that easy, someone would have put a bullet in his skull ages ago. They haven’t because he’s untouchable. Or so I’ve always thought.
“Ravenna. Ravenna .” Cian’s voice snaps me out of my stupor. “We have to go. Now.”
“Y-you killed him.” I point out the obvious, unable to contain my thoughts.
Cian’s lips form a tight line. “Yes.”
“Are you insane?” Does he realize what he’s done? With one bullet he’s ruined the treaty.
“Probably.”
“You’ve destroyed the peace between our people. This is a disaster. Why would you do that?” I wrack my brain for any logical explanation but my thoughts keep circling back to the same one.
I swallow hard, my stomach a flurry of butterflies. “You did this for me.”
As impossible as that seems. It’s the only answer. Isn’t it?
Grunting, Cian undoes his shirt and drapes it over my shoulders. I shove my arms through the sleeves. The garment hangs on my form like a tent.
Scooping me into his arms, he carries me through the door. “Yes. I did it for you. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”