Chapter Thirty-Two
Kay
Did anyone else remember when I got kidnapped a few months ago and did something dumb and agitated my kidnapper?
This blonde was back on her bullshit.
Ray Romano, the man who had been the source of my family’s pain and nightmares for years, was sitting in front of me, the big, bad devil.
He didn’t look scary. I’d seen better. Better in the form of blue eyes and tattoos.
Romano looked at me with his head tilted to the side. From what Haley and Gwen told me, this man was usually well put together. Today, not so much.
His salt and pepper hair was in disarray, his beard charred, and he wasn’t wearing a suit. Gwen told me the devil always wore a suit and some form of blood red fabric. That was his signature look, apparently.
He was also injured. The explosion Col caused did a number on the man in front of me. The devil wasn’t immortal after all. His right arm was wrapped from top to bottom in medical bandages.
Ray Romano had come so close to burning in hell and still avoided the Grim Reaper.
What an asshole.
It was comical to me he was in jeans and a ratty t-shirt. His eyes were dark and alert, but the bags underneath them stood out more. He looked…homeless, if I was being honest. Then again, technically, he was homeless.
My man reduced his precious mansion and his island to ash.
“You are pretty, but I don’t understand why he would go through all the trouble of keeping you from me,” he said slowly. The man was trying to intimidate me by making me feel insecure, as if I wasn’t worthy of the trouble.
If I wasn’t bound to this chair, I might pull a Gwen and do something really drastic.
Like slap the shit out of him.
We were still in St. Louis, in the heart of it—or under it, I should say.
The underground tunnels of Busch Stadium were smaller than I remembered.
Dad used to take Jer and I down here as kids.
He had a part-time job here and when Mama was still working, he would take us here after school.
One day, I wandered off just a little too far and ended up in these tunnels.
Jer and Ty found me, and we decided to keep coming back.
We never told Dad.
Not that he cared. He was too busy running drugs for the Matthews family behind Sullie’s back.
This room was small, surrounded by bland concrete walls. There was an old TV in the corner on the table, with a coffee maker on top and three chairs, all of which were occupied.
“Do you have the decency and respect to answer me?” he drawled, his Italian accent seeming thicker than before.
“Did your mother not love you when you were a kid or something? Is that why you treat women the way you do?” I asked sweetly.
The smug look melted from his face. He sat forward slowly, resting his elbows on his knees. “You will talk to me with respect, young lady,” he ordered.
I raised a brow and let my eyes trail down the length of him.
Maybe, before the dinner, the one where Gwen launched her dagger at him—man, I wish I could have seen that— he was scary, but I saw right through him.
He was desperately trying to cling to the power that once oozed from him, but it was running dry.
“Listen buddy, I’m not a medical professional, but you should probably have those burns looked at.”
A slow, wicked smile spread across his face. “Maybe I should tie you down and let my men have their way with you.”
Ignoring the chill that ran down my spine, I pressed on.
“What way is that? Because your boy over there is still icing his balls from when he tried to grab me earlier.” I tipped my head toward the man in the corner with an ice packet on his crotch.
I told him not to touch me, and what did he do? He fucking touched me.
“Maybe I’ll have my way with you,” the fallen king growled, standing up. What was it with men and standing over women? That shit didn’t intimidate us.
I smiled at him. “I doubt you can get it up, old man.”
My cheek stung, and my head swiveled to the side. Ouch. That hurt. He was fuming now. “You will learn respect. Maybe I should just sell you. I could make a profit off you and the brunette whore.”
Even though the pain in my cheek was radiating up to my brain, telling my eyes to produce tears, I wouldn’t give this man the satisfaction. Shaking my head, acting as if I needed to get my senses back, I laughed at him. His control was slipping, and the image he had built for himself was tarnished.
Gwen. He was referring to Gwen. My stomach twisted. What was his play? Why was he keeping me here?
After kicking that guy in the balls on the plane, I tried to make a run for it.
I got down the stairs and saw Xander being held back by two men.
They knocked him out, and I tried to run to him.
The men came after me and they said if I didn’t cooperate, they would kill Xander.
I liked Xander, and I didn’t want anyone else to die because of me.
The staff on the plane most likely had families, loved ones they would never see again because of me—no, because of him.
The devil who lost his touch.
Romano couldn’t even get me to fear him, and he didn’t like that. He raised his hand to strike me again, which only made me laugh harder. “I have already been through hell, Mr. Romano. Do your fucking worst,” I spat.
My eyes held his for a few moments as silence stretched across the room. He smiled and lowered his hand. “I am going to kill everyone you love, girl.”
I shrugged. This was stupid. Don’t do it. Don’t do it. Don’t do it.
Fuck it.
“You don’t have the manpower for that anymore,” I sneered.
He arched a brow and got eye level with me. “You couldn’t imagine the kind of power I possess.”
“Have you always been this full of yourself, or did that start after you starting beating and raping women?”
He chuckled. “That boy picked a strong one, that’s for sure.”
Collin wasn't a boy, but that was how his father saw him, just a bastard son was meant to freeze to death as an infant in a trash can. A knock on the door interrupted our lovely conversation. The door opened a second later, and a man stepped through, the one who'd knocked Xander out.
I twisted my wrists behind me, testing the strength of the ropes. Tight. Too tight for me to get out of. While the men were talking quietly by the door, I scanned the floor for something—anything—that I could use.
The floor was spotless. I silently cursed as Romano turned back around to face me. The right side of my face hurt like hell, and I was sure it was swollen. For an old, injured man, he still had a lot of strength.
“Your uncle is here.”
I remained silent, ignoring the joy spreading throughout my body.
Sullie.
My heart hammered in my chest as a sob crawled its way up my throat, but I held it in.
All at once, the weight of the last three months came crashing down on me.
Was I happy to be near Col and finally break ground with him?
Yes, but up until this moment, I realized I hadn’t been missing my family as much as I should have.
They were put on the back burner by my heart while she fought for his cold one.
Tears welled in my eyes as the image of my big, bear man of an uncle surfaced. Sullie was the kindest man in my life, but he was also dangerous. I knew he wouldn’t be alone. Dom would be with him.
I was tired of playing games with an injured king. I sat up taller and tipped my chin at him.
“Good.” I held back my snarky remark about Romano’s funeral arrangements.
The man had to know he was at the end of his journey.
He was reacting on survival instinct, and his body was showing signs of anxiety.
The way his hands shook. The way his knee bounced slightly when he was sitting in front of me.
The drop of sweat that trickled down the side of his temple.
Not to mention that he was weak and injured.
Him kidnapping me was his last resort, a desperate way to try and hold on to the power he once had.
He reminded me of Cal Matthews the night of the Gala.
There was security camera footage of his office that night.
I couldn’t watch the part where Dean beat him to a pulp, and I nearly vomited when Cal ordered Gwen to be bent over so he could rape her.
Cal Matthews had gone mad with rage, hellbent on revenge for Ian. His emotions got him killed, just like the Devil’s would tonight.
His dark eyes gave me a once over as he tried to smooth down his hair. “Get her up. It’s time for the show,” he barked. Ice Pack Dick stepped forward, and I shot him a look.
“Touch me and I will bite it off,” I hissed.
His partner rolled his eyes and mumbled something in Italian before stepping up to me and unbinding me from the chair. I stood slowly and gestured to the door.
“Pussies first,” I sighed impatiently.
Ice Pack Dick went first. I followed him while his partner stayed behind me.
The tunnel was narrow, and there was no way for me to run.
Not now, at least. Romano had disappeared, probably off pissing his pants somewhere because he was about to face the only man who pushed back against his mafia bullshit.
We emerged on the first level of the stadium, and the men ushered me down the steps.
I kept my head down like the man behind me ordered me to.
I would be a good girl for the time being.
I kept my eyes on my feet as we descended the steps.
Ice Pack Dick turned and held out his hand in my line of sight.
“What?” I snapped.
“Over the dug out,” he ordered.
“And through the motherfucking woods,” I said under my breath before stepping up onto the surface. In another life, I would be getting arrested for doing this…climbing over the dugout and dropping down into a small space filled with hot baseball men had always been a dream of mine and my besties.
After hopping down from the roof of the dug with help from Thing One and Thing Two, I was led to Homeplate, where the devil was waiting for me.