Chapter Thirty-Seven
Flashes of memories continue to flicker through my mind. Beating after beating, any time I upset or inconvenienced the man that kept me isolated in the smallest of ways. They wouldn’t even feed me properly, just enough to keep me alive. The knowledge I have now after my time training with Giovanni and Michael, I know that they made me work out so that I’d be too weak to try to fight back.
I feel the scream barreling up my throat only to get stuck. Nothing will come out; I’m lost so deeply in my own thoughts that my surroundings are a blur. Tears have been streaming down my cheeks since Michael told me he’s missing, and I haven’t been able to speak.
Anger radiates through my tiny frame when I realize that I've shrunk back into myself just like I had back then, when I was with them. The bed dips and I feel the presence of someone else near me, but I can’t focus. My emotions are in a frenzy as I feel a soft cold hand cover my own. The cool skin against mine is enough to pull me from my thoughts, the darkness that I have been engulfed in begins to fade and I register Vanna.
Large red rimmed chocolate eyes that resemble his, stare at me through her own tears. She squeezes my hand tight as she places her other palm against my cheek, her concern for me as clear as her concern for her son. My shoulders begin to tremble as I let out a broken sob, one that has been building for too long.
“Sweetheart,” the nurturing voice I know and love so much calls for my attention. “He needs you, I need you.” She continues as she clasps both hands around mine. The anguish in her voice has my heart clenching. She continues with a hysterical sob, “He’s been through more than one person should. He probably hasn’t even told you because he’s buried it for so long.”
My eyes don’t leave Vanna as she takes deep steadying breaths before continuing. I’ve never seen this woman look so broken or vulnerable. It’s unnerving, and I hate everything about it.
“He doesn’t know that I know Frederico forced him to kill my late husband. I planned to run, but the moment I put that plan into action Frederico was there.” Vanna scoffs as she relives the memory. “He knew somehow and told me he would kill me if I tried to take his grandson. If I'd ‘act up’ he would threaten to hurt my Giovanni. Michael is the only one who could keep him from hurting either of us.” Her confession breaks a piece of me while emboldening another. “Nina, you are the only one who can bring him back. Bring my Giovanni home, please.”
It’s as if Willow Rosenburg had just finished the spell to bring forth all of the potential Slayers when Brittany made me watch Buffy. I feel a sudden confidence and strength I didn’t think I would ever possess. My arms fold around Vanna briefly before I release her and rush to where the men are holed up.
Hushed voices sound on the other side of the door when I approach Giovanni’s office. I shove the door open not giving a single fuck about what they’re talking about. When no less than six guns are pulled on me, I should be shocked or even scared. A normal person would be, right? Instead, I shrug my shoulders and stand in front of the desk with my spine straight. The men holster their weapons and go back to what they were doing when they realize I'm not a threat. At least not to them.
“What do you know?”
Michael glances back up from a blueprint with a cocked brow. “What do you mean?”
I feel the blood in my veins boil at his ridiculous question.
“You know damn well what I mean, Michael. Who has him and when do we leave to get him?” I snarl out my response.
Milo shoots up to his full height with a panicked look on his face. He glances between the men and me before he speaks.
“Uhhhh - Nina, you’re not going anywhere. He’ll kill us if you get hurt!” he stammers out his objection.
An unfamiliar maniacal laughter bubbles up from my chest.
“And you don’t think I’ll kill you if you don’t let me in there?” My gaze must show the fire inside me when I speak. “Talk to Michael, he’s been training me. If we had time, I’d prove it to you and lay your ass out right here.” I motion to the floor in front of the desk. “But we don’t and I’m not going to let anything more than what’s already happened to him be done. So, I ask again. What. Do. You. Know?” I speak the question slowly, every word enunciated well enough that they understand just how serious I am.
The woman who stands before me is a stranger. I blink rapidly as I take in the reflection of the girl I used to be. I’m dressed in the sweatshirt and pants I haven’t worn since the day I arrived here. Pride fills me at the realization that I'm not swimming in the material as I had before as I'm finally at a healthy weight. I take a deep breath before I leave the safety of our room to meet the men. The decision to leave while the rest of the house is still asleep was Michael’s. He knows no one would let me out of the house if they had an inkling of what I was going to do.
Our drive to my childhood home feels like it takes twice as long as the first trip to the Ludovico’s home was. My heart sinks as I recall that drive, Danny was the one behind the wheel. The memory only serves to add fuel to the anger that is already coursing through my veins.
Michael wastes no time when we pull up outside of the place I used to call home and makes the call. I see the front door swing open to reveal my father with a smug look plastered across his face. My entourage of misfits help me out of the car and create a protective shield around me as they escort me to where the man of my nightmares is looming. I can’t help but recoil the closer we get to where he stands.
I force myself to relive every single time he hurt me as he leads us through the home. My third birthday was the first time I remember him hitting me. The day I had learned to read and was excited that he was there that day, how dare his own daughter show off her newly discovered skill. I was studying at my desk for a test Cece had planned for me the following day and even though I was in the middle of a sentence and didn’t stand up the moment he walked into my room it was disrespectful. I was in so much pain I couldn’t get out of bed for two days after that time. With Abel at my back, Rand and Milo part enough to allow me through to approach.
“Daddy,” I say as sweetly and timidly as I can. His hand darts out and grabs me hard by the elbow. A pained hiss escapes which sends Abel into a frenzy.
“Don't fucking hurt her!” He screams at my father which only seems to make him tighten his hold on me.
Rand restrains Abel and says something quietly in his ear to make him calm, but his expression and demeanor are anything but friendly. I offer a reassuring smile to the brotherly figure, knowing that he’s internally throwing every expletive at me for putting him in this position.
My father drags me through the house allowing the men to follow us. When we approach the room I had called home for so long, I freeze. A strong odor is coming from the place as he opens the door to reveal Cece. A loud scream barrels its way up my throat when I see the woman who raised me. My stomach lurches as I fight not to vomit. I see more bone than skin, what little skin is left makes her resemble Imhotep - before the full reincarnation. The only thing that clues me in to the identity is her hair. A throat clears somewhere behind me while my body is trembling with anger as I’m being held in place by a psychopath that I share half of my DNA with.
“We’re not going to allow her out of our sight until we have our boss.” Michael’s tone is venomous as he speaks.
I feel my father lift his shoulders in a shrug as he drags me along behind him toward another door. He leads us down a narrow flight of stairs into a dimly lit, damp room. Before my eyes have a chance to adjust to the darkness, a light is turned on illuminating the room to show Giovanni chained to a metal chair. His beautiful brown eyes are hidden under swollen blue bruises. It’s been two days since I’ve seen him and my body aches to be near him. The suit jacket and button up shirt he had on before he left is gone. His ink covered chest is hidden under layers of blood.
My eyes land on Michael who is standing stock still staring at his boss. I jerk my head for him to get Giovanni out. As soon as the men begin to move, I jerk my head back resulting in a forceful impact against my unsuspecting fathers face. His hold on my arm loosens enough for me to spin around and start whaling on him as I let out a scream that has been pent up for years. Every practiced punch, kick, and move that Michael had taught me, coming in clutch as I beat the man onto the ground. I’m not sure how much time has passed since he stopped trying to fight back when strong arms pull me off his limp body. Abel drags me out of the room, and I let out a defeated sigh.
“We’ve got Johnny. Let me get you.” The urgency in his tone pulls me out of my spiral. “We’ll come back and finish this later.”