Page 24

"The mags hold fifteen rounds, so you did pretty well for your first time shooting," he praises.

He doesn't understand me; I don't dovery well. It's a hundred percent or nothing. He inserts a new sheet and moves it back.

"Imagine it's one of the men who took you," he whispers.

His words have the desired effect. I make sure I aim each time before I pull the trigger. My arms hurt by the time I shoot the fifteen rounds, but when Antonio brings the sheet in and I count fifteen rounds, one even in the center where the heart would be, a feeling of accomplishment rushes through me.

"Thank you," I say, meaning it.

"You're a natural. Tomorrow we'll try a greater distance." He takes the gun and puts it down before he picks me up to carry me back to his bedroom.

When I'm in his arms, I realize two things. One, my legs are rubber and my arms are screaming at me, and two, I was holding a gun—a loaded gun—and I didn’t turn it on him. It never even crossed my mind. Even now, as I'm thinking it, I'm not slapping myself in the head that I didn’t, and that confuses the hell out of me. I could have been free. I could have been running home, right now—well, probably not running—I could have called my dad to come get me. He would have figured out where I was. What scares me is the realization that, as much as I want Hank, Marco, and the accountant guy dead, I don't want Antonio dead.I imagined those three men on the target when I shot at it, and it felt so, so good. But not once was it Antonio, despite him being just as guilty of holding me against my will. Despite my being sure that he would hurt me if my dadmisbehaved.Would he, though? I'm not sure if that is a serious question from my mind or just wishful thinking. I only know that over the course of the day, I've come to see a side of the mafia man I didn't expect to see. He seems to sincerely care about my emotions and well-being, which confuses me on so many levels.

The next morning…

I'm still carrying a hardon. Damn, seeing that woman hold a gun last night did things to me I can't explain. Whenever I watch a movie with a chick handling a gun, I laugh, even if they are sexy as hell. Not with Scarlet, though. That had been anything but laughable. That was one unexpected turn on, one I'm still not over.

When I decided to take her to the shooting range, it had only been to make her feel better, to give her back some of the control she lost. I know a thing or two about that.

But fuck.

Not only was she a fucking natural, but the way she handled it… my already stiff dick demanded more of my blood, making thinking harder.

When I put Scarlet on my bed last night, it took every ounce of my willpower not to pull her into my arms and kiss her senseless—and that is a complication I don’t need. Not right now. Or ever.

Instead, I went into the bathroom and took care of my cock in a long shower, but when I came back into the bedroom and Scarlet was already asleep, curled up on top of the comforter, my dick turned rock hard again.

I might have tucked her in a little bit rougher than I needed to, but fuck, she was getting to me, and I hated that. If I’d had any sense at all, I would have kept my distance from her after that. But for my senses to work, they needed blood flowing through my body, and right then most of it was pandering to my ever-demanding dick.

Even now, as I enter the warehouse, Scarlet is on my mind. Despite her obvious willingness to exact vengeance on the men who hurt her, I don't think she's ready for that kind of brutality. Or ever will be, no matter what she might think.

I ordered Igio and Umberto—two of my soldiers—to string Hank and Marco up the same way they had done to Scarlet.

"Nice touch." I nod approvingly at Igio and Berto when I enter to find Hank and Marco soaked from head to toe.

"Couldn't take the stink much longer, boss," Igio replies.

Another wave of anger flares up from deep inside my gut—this part I hadn't considered. Of course Scarlet would have been forced to relieve herself while hanging from the ceiling. Hank iscloser to me, so I lift my foot and kick him hard in his side. He cries out and swings back and forth, bumping into Marco, who grunts.

"You two are pathetic," I tell them, shaking my head. Scarlet had more life in her the night I rescued her than these two cowards. Marco looks up with something akin to fire in his eyes, so he's still there. Good, I hope to break him.

My fists clench and unclench with the need to hurt these men for what they did to Scarlet. I'm not sure where this anger is coming from. I barely know her. And yet, there is a magnetism between us that I can't deny. She's drawing me in like no other woman ever has. Many have tried very hard, but none succeeded. I thought my heart was dead for years, and nobody is more surprised than I am to discover that there is still some life left in it.

I force my mind away from Scarlet. I need other things from these men besides payback for what they did to her. I take a moment and inhale a deep breath to collect myself. When I'm sure the little siren is out of my head, I demand, "What other plans does Carlos have to stay out of jail?"

"Fuck you," Hank replies, spitting at my feet, hitting my shoe. Looks like someone got a little adrenaline rush. Good. I hate beating semi-conscious men.

"Stronzo," I curse before my fist slams into his stomach. I had these shoes imported from Italy. This is the first time I’ve worn them.

The power of my hit would normally have Hank doubled over, but his arms up in the air prevent him from doing that. As it is,he coughs and spurts and vomits. I make sure to stay out of the spray.

"What about you?" I ask Marco, giving Hank a moment to recover before I continue with him.

"Fuck you," Marco replies, not very originally, copying his partner. His stomach muscles tighten in anticipation of a blow, so I go for his right kidney instead. The fucker is gonna piss blood for the last few hours of his life.

"Tough guys, eh?" I mock as both swing on their ropes, coughing and contorting. "Why don't you make this easier on yourself and me? You guys know everybody breaks. It's only a matter of time, and I…" I sigh dramatically, splaying my hands out in front of their faces. "Have all the time in the world."

"No, you don't…" Hank chokes out with snot running down his face. "You need the information now before the trial progresses further."