Chapter Thirty-Five - Elise
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Elise
A million thoughts race through my head, but only one of them has my total attention.
Joshua.
I briefly wonder if there’s a shooting range inside, but the panicked shouts that accompany the shots confirm this isn’t a routine drill. All I know is that Joshua is inside that building, and he’s in trouble.
Without the knowledge of the warehouse’s layout, I’m not exactly sure what to do, but staying here isn’t going to help anyone. As stealthily as possible, I race along the back of the warehouse toward an area with several abandoned crates that make for good cover.
Peering around the corner, I spot a garage door entrance that seems to be unoccupied. As I make my way through the various shipping crates, I work to ignore the deafening gunshots and listen closely to the words being shouted.
“South exit! Dammit, Alec, stay down!” Joshua’s commands carry over all the other noise.
His voice brings with it a slap of reality.
What the hell am I doing?
Joshua has control of the situation. Running in there without a plan or weapon won’t do anything but distract him and put everyone at a greater risk.
Turning back the way I came, I stumble into a large metal crate, and pain shoots up my leg.
“Did you hear that?” an unfamiliar voice asks.
My heartbeat doubles in speed as footsteps head in my direction. I want to run, but I’m too afraid of making noise again, so I stand frozen in plain sight.
I stare wide-eyed at the entrance, seconds away from being discovered, when a large hand clamps down over my mouth and an arm as strong as steel wraps around my waist.
I’m dragged backward.
Thrashing in the arms of my captor, I think through every self-defense move I know, but my frazzled mind can’t pinpoint a particularly useful one. We stop behind the cover of several crates.
I’m about to work up a scream when his arms squeeze me tighter.
“Don’t make a noise,” the familiar voice growls.
Sagging with relief, I stop struggling, and Donovan eases his grip on me, though his hand remains over my mouth. I want to pull away, but the sound of shuffling a few feet from us freezes me in place once again.
From behind the crates, I don’t have a clear view of the door.
Still, I can see the figure of a man running out of the building.
I wonder if he’s one of Joshua’s soldiers or if he’s an attacker.
It doesn’t matter for long because a gun fires nearby, and he falls to the ground, yelping in pain for only a moment before going silent.
My stomach rolls at the sight, and I wish I hadn’t left the house.
How could I have been so stupid?
When the action moves away from us, Donovan loosens his hold and turns me to face him. His normally easygoing expression is replaced with a fury I didn’t know he possessed.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“I followed Joshua,” I say in a choked whisper.
And here I thought he couldn’t look any angrier.
I was wrong.
“Why would you do that?”
I open my mouth to answer, but another round of gunfire interrupts me, and Donovan tenses.
“Forget it,” he mutters, pulling a gun from his holster. “We need better cover.”
Taking my hand, Donovan leads me back the way I came. His strides are much longer than mine, so I’m running to keep up with him.
We reach the back corner of the building, and when he points to my left—toward a blocked-off doorway that provides minimal cover—I don’t hesitate to enter the space. Don steps in beside me, using his body to shield mine.
I feel a deep sense of guilt when I realize that if I hadn’t been stupid enough to come here, Donovan would be one more person inside protecting Joshua.
The sounds of gunshots and shouting fill the air, and I don’t notice the tears rolling down my cheeks until Don looks back at me.
“It’s okay,” he whispers. “I won’t let them hurt you.”
He thinks I’ve worried about myself?
I shake my head. “Joshua is inside.”
Don’s jaw goes slack. “That’s what you’re worried about?”
I nod.
“Mr. Moreno is perfectly capable of taking care of himself. He’ll be fine.” Donovan’s eyebrows draw together. “Wait a minute, were you about to go inside when I got to you?”
My eyes fall to the floor.
Donovan mutters a slew of curses.
We’re silent for a few moments, listening for approaching footsteps. Minutes pass without a sign of unwanted visitors before Donovan steps out of the doorway.
“Stay here, and do not make a sound,” he instructs.
I nod, and he makes his way around the building.
He returns a few minutes later, silently gesturing for me to follow him. I do, and we make our way in the direction he investigated. Neither of us bothers to quiet our footsteps, and I figure Donovan is focused solely on getting me out of here as fast as possible.
I expect us to stay close to the warehouse wall, but Donovan leads me toward the trees.
“The road is too exposed. We’ll go through the woods for better cover,” he whispers in explanation.
As we enter the tree line, the shouts and shots seem to grow louder. Closer.
Don pushes me in front of him, shielding my body, but my feet falter, and I twist my ankle, falling into the rough foliage.
“Dammit,” he spits.
My entire body aches and blood seeps through my jeans in several spots where the fabric has ripped.
Once I’m back on my feet, I wince at the pain that shoots through my foot. Donovan must notice because, in an instant, I’m in his arms, and we’re racing through the trees. I have no idea how he manages to jog through the woods while holding me, but I’m immensely grateful.
Don stops running only after we can no longer hear the gunfire and shouts. He sets me gently down on a moss-covered log and turns his back to me. His long hair falls into his face, and he doesn’t bother brushing it away as he controls his breathing.
“Why didn’t we go back to the house?”
He doesn’t look at me when he answers. “I don’t know if the house was attacked, too, and I’m not willing to risk taking you there yet.”
“So, what now?”
“I don’t know, Elli!” Don’s shout carries through the trees, and I cringe, not because it could draw attention this far away but because I’ve never seen him look so angry.
Dropping his eyes, Don takes in my huddled figure. “I’m sorry. It’s just—I’m screwed.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, based on your experience, how do you think Mr. Moreno is going to react when he finds out that you left to follow him to the warehouse?”
I stand, ignoring the pain in my foot, and place my hand on his arm. “That’s not your fault. He’ll be mad at me.”
“I was in charge of watching you at the house. Mr. Moreno said you were in your room, but when I went to check in, you were gone. I was outside searching when I heard shots. I was lucky to find you before you got yourself killed.”
My face turns a deep shade of red, and I’m swallowed by guilt. “I had no idea you would get in trouble if I left. I’m so sorry, Don.”
He rubs his hand down his face with an exhale. “Take a seat, Elli. We aren’t going anywhere for a while in case things didn’t go our way.”
I suck in a sharp breath, pain slicing my chest at the mere thought of something happening to Joshua. I know I wouldn’t have been much help, but running away isn’t any better.
I just left him there.
“Is there any way to see if they’re alright?”
Donovan shakes his head. “I left my phone at the house.”
I fall onto the log once again, overwhelmed with the weight of my guilt and worry.
I’m glad I didn’t change out of the jeans I wore to dinner tonight because when the sun sets, and the cool breeze blows through the trees, it’s nice only to have to worry about my exposed arms. I hug myself tightly, trying to contain my shivering since I know Donovan has it worse.
He wears a pair of gray basketball shorts and a black shirt with the outline of a mountain over his heart. Still, he doesn’t mention the cold, and I don’t see a single goosebump on him.
I remember Joshua telling me that Donovan grew up in this area and isn’t a stranger to the woods of California, but that doesn’t ease the anxiety that simmers just below the surface every time a twig snaps in the distance, concealed by the growing darkness.
We’ve been here for roughly an hour when Donovan finally takes a seat, but even then, it’s not to relax. He wraps a strong arm around my shoulders and pulls me closer for warmth.
I don’t realize I’ve been spinning the engagement ring on my finger until his gaze falls to it with the tilt of his head.
“So, are you going to tell me about that?” he asks, breaking the tense silence.
I inspect the ring myself, turning it side to side in the minimal light that remains.
The overwhelming sense of belonging it had given me only an hour ago is replaced by the thick knots of dread as I think about what could’ve happened to Joshua.
My mind threatens to spiral with dark theories, so I distract myself by indulging Donovan.
“I’m not sure there’s much to tell.”
He gives a light laugh, and it’s the first time he’s seemed like himself since he found me at the warehouse. “Not much to tell? It looks to me like you’re engaged.”
I never agreed to marry Joshua, but I did agree to wear the ring while I stay here. I’m not exactly sure what that makes us.
“It’s complicated,” I whisper before grinding my teeth to stop them from chattering.
“That’s the understatement of the year. I swear things were never this interesting before you came around.”
“That’s high praise from someone who once faced twenty years in prison.”
Donovan pulls back to look at me. “How do you know about that?”
“Joshua told me. I think it’s great how he stepped in to help you.”
“Then I’m sure you loved hearing about how he saved Kade’s life.”
“Wait, what?”
Amusement dances in his gaze, and I forget all about how cold I am as Donovan fills me in on how each of the capos came into their power.
Kade, whose parents are surgeons in the L.A.
area, never supported his interest in cybersecurity.
They wanted him to follow in their footsteps and go to medical school.
He would often hack into the hospital his parents worked at to see what they were up to, which is how he started to notice that some patients and procedures would disappear from the records with no explanation.
After more investigating, Kade discovered that his parents worked for the Marsollo family, often doing surgeries off the books.
One of the Marsollo capos discovered Kade’s digging, and a hit was ordered on him.
Joshua stepped in, having noticed Kade’s talent and taken an interest in him.
He was hired and quickly worked his way through the ranks.
Next, Donovan tells me about Alec, who went to live with his Uncle Jay after his mother—Jay’s sister—overdosed when he was only ten years old.
Jay, a veteran who was abandoned by the system, had been working for the Marsollo family for years by that point and decided against hiding his work from his nephew.
Alec grew up seeing all of the good parts of mafia families—the camaraderie, the loyalty, and the luxury.
He took on jobs around the base at a young age, and as time passed, no one knew the base better than he did.
Joshua made Alec the youngest capo in the country, at only nineteen years old.
Donovan even tells me Tripp’s story, which I’d been reluctant to hear but agreed out of sheer need for a distraction.
Tripp was thrown into the foster care system when he was seven.
He was kicked out of several homes because of fights he would instigate with the other kids.
He started working with the Marsollo mafia family in his teen years, where his sadistic tendencies were not only appreciated but encouraged.
He thrived in an environment where his cruelty was admired and his particular skill set was noticed by Joshua, who utilized it in interrogations and recruitment training.
The common thread through each story is Joshua’s ability to not only see the potential in someone but use their skills to give them purpose while also strengthening his family.
It’s a win-win situation that builds loyalty and respect.
It’s why Joshua has such a strong family, even though it isn’t built on a long bloodline.
It gives me a sense of pride that the man I’m falling for is the kind of man who sees value in others and actively embraces it, not only for his benefit but for theirs, too.
And I am, without a doubt, falling for Joshua Moreno.
As Donovan finishes his storytelling, I let my eyes fall to my ring once again. I try to pull in a full breath of air, but I can’t, not when there’s a chance that Joshua isn’t okay right now.
The sun has long since fallen by the time Donovan finally stands from the log, gently taking my hand to bring me with him.
“We should head back now. Do you think you can walk?”
I put pressure on the ankle I twisted. It throbs, but I grit my teeth. “Yeah, as long as we’re not running.”
“Good,” he says and pulls his gun out. “I want to be ready, just in case.”
We make our way through the woods in silence, both of us listening for any indication that we might be in danger. My ankle is aching, and I’m grateful that Donovan travels at my speed.
I hadn’t realized just how far we’d gone into the woods, and I nearly collapse in relief when I finally see the faint light of the house ahead.
We’re about to break the tree line when Donovan holds out his arm to halt me. I follow his gaze, and we watch the soldiers bustling around inside, looking for anything out of place.
Ryder is barely in view, talking furiously into his phone.
Kade is typing away on his computer, a look of defeat on his normally expressionless face.
Other soldiers I don’t recognize buzz around, everyone seeming to have a mission to accomplish.
Alec and Jay are nowhere in view, but I imagine they’re running around, too.
Of course, none of them hold my attention.
Joshua sits on the couch, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. My heart breaks at the sight of his slumped shoulders and tousled hair.
I want nothing more than to comfort him right now.
I don’t waste another second.
I push Donovan’s arm out of my way and force my ankle to move as fast as it can, with Don following close behind me. None of the men seem to notice our approach, and soon enough, we’re making our way up the staircase of the back porch.
I reach the door and slide it open.