Chapter 20
Mikey
Istumble out of the warehouse, one hand braced against the wall while the other is holding my ribs in place. It feels like shattered glass grinding under my skin. My jaw throbs in time with my heartbeat, and blood is dripping down my neck.
Behind me. The metal door slams shut, ringing in my head like a cell locking and a countdown starting…
De Luca’s words are echoing in my head.
Midnight Tomorrow. Bring her home.
My stomach twists violently, and I gag, leaning over and spitting a mouthful of blood onto the gravel. My vision is swimming. I slap the hood on my jeep to stay upright.
I should get in. I need to drive and go home.
Instead, I stand there just shaking and trying not to collapse into a crumbling pile of shit.
My mind goes back to Julia.
FUCK
Just the thought of De Luca’s hands on her….
NO.
I dig my fingers into my hair, pulling at the roots. I try to take a breath, but it feels like I’m inhaling broken glass.
I won’t let that happen.
I fucking can't.
I force myself into the driver’s seat, hissing at the movement, sending a shock of pain through my ribs. My hands are slick with dried blood as I grip the steering wheel. I must look like hell… Fuck, I feel like hell.
The drive home is a blur of headlights and a pounding headache. Every turn feels too slow, yet too fast. My chest tightens. I keep imagining Kai pacing the penthouse, checking the clock, and glancing at the door.
And Julia…
Hopefully still curled up in my bed, breathing slowly, still smelling like me from my hoodie.
A sick twist hits me again…
I’m about to go home covered in her dad’s personal threat.
By the time I reach the building, my vision is tunneling. I barely make it through the parking garage without sideswiping a column. The elevator ride feels like hours; each floor ding is too loud.
When I step into the penthouse, the lights are dim.
I can see Kai sitting on the couch, waiting for me.
When the door clicks closed, he turns and freezes.
His face… fuck his face. It is full of shock, fear, and the kind of anger that makes grown men pray.
“Jesus… Mikey.” He’s across the room in two strides, hands hovering over me like he wants to grab me, but is afraid to.
“What the fuck happened?”
I swallow hard… or try to. My throat feels like it got shredded by a cheese grater.
“Don’t…” I breathe out. “Not loud.”
His eye flicks instantly towards the hallway, to my room, where Julia is sleeping.
He nods once in understanding.
He hooks his arm under mine and guides me towards the bathroom. The second the door shuts behind us, he turns and glares at me.
“Mikey.” His voice is a low, deadly whisper. “What did they do to you?”
I don’t answer immediately. I’m too busy bracing myself on the sink as the room spins. Blood from my eyebrow and lip drips onto the porcelain.
Kai’s reflection behind me is pure fury.
“They want her,” I manage to get my words out.
His jaw snaps shut. “Who?” I look up, meeting his eyes in the mirror.
“De Luca. He wants Julia back.”
Kai goes still. Absolutely motionless.
“...Back?” The one word is so soft it's dangerous.
I nod, “...He wants her back. You know damn well what that means.”
Kai’s hands curl into fists. “That motherfucker…”
“There’s more,” I rasp out, and his eyes lock on mine.
“He arranged a marriage for her. Years ago. She was his bargaining chip. He found out she was planning on running, so he sent his guys to find her and ‘discipline’ her.” My voice cracks. “He… ordered it.”
Kai’s face drains of color, and for a heartbeat, he looks like he might kill someone, or collapse. Fuck maybe both.
“No,” he whispers. “He’s not taking her.” He shakes his head violently. “He’s not fucking touching her. He’s not getting anywhere near her.”
“He said he’ll come for her…” I say quietly. “If I don’t bring her by midnight tomorrow… he’ll come himself.”
Kai slams his fist into the wall, cracking the tile. “Over my dead fucking body.”
I push off the sink, groaning as pain spikes through my side.
“We need a plan,” I grit out. “And we need to keep her out of this.”
Kai steps forward again, this time gripping my shoulder, careful but firm.
“We will,” he says. “But first, sit your ass down so I can clean you up. You look like you got hit by a fucking train.”
I almost laugh, but my ribs protest, so the sound comes out strangled.
Kai lowers me onto the edge of the tub, then starts gathering supplies– alcohol wipes, butterfly bandages, gauze– by the time he comes back, his hands are shaking with rage he is trying to contain.
He kneels in front of me and starts to clean the blood off my face.
“You’re not dying on me,” he whispers. “Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not fucking ever.”
I close my eyes. Thinking about the fact that Julia is asleep just down the hall, curled in safety that she doesn’t know is seconds from shattering.
And I don’t know how the hell I’m going to tell her the truth, or if I even should.