Page 18 of Caught in the Crossfire

“Such beautiful skin,” Buzz Cut had whispered in my ear, his breath a revolting caress down the bare skin of my neck and chest. By now, the cold had sunk inside my skin and taken permanent root. I couldn’t feel my fingers or toes. I could only see the blinding flashes of their camera phones. “Your fans want to see what they’re purchasing. You’ve already got interested buyers.”

I closed my eyes and swore to forget what they were doing. It didn’t matter. My guys would come, and we would go home, and everything could go back to normal.

I’d kill every single Albanian trafficker I could get my hands on. My guys would rip them to shreds. When I retreated into myhead, I imagined their vengeance, and the time passed around me.

“Leona, wake up.”

No.

Let me sink back into the dark. It was quiet here. Comforting. I floated around in blissful non-existence. There were no memories. No fear. No pain. No bone-chilling cold.

“Leona.”

Something grabbed my arm. My body moved on its own before my cheek pressed into something soft.

“Piccola,per favore.”

“No,” I murmured. “I can’t.”

The sound was like a hook in my brain, pulling me back out of the watery darkness. I could do nothing but let it pull me along.

“You’re fine. Everything’s going to be fine,” it said. “Open those eyes for me.”

I blinked, and everything came rushing back. My mouth tasted of cotton and copper, and I started choking on the taste before I coughed bloody spittle onto the surface my face was currently pressed against. Max’s shirt.

“There you are,piccola,” he murmured against my head. His arms were wrapped around me again, his chest supporting my body as he leaned against the wall.

It only took two seconds for fear to claw its way back up my neck. I sucked in deeply, shuddered, and then couldn’t contain the tears from spilling down my cheeks.

“Max,” I whimpered. I couldn’t get my body to stop shaking. Even his warmth struggled to chase away the chill embedded beneath my skin.

“It’s going to be okay,” Max whispered, running his handsoftly down my hair. “You’re going to be okay. I’ll kill him. We’ll get out of here, and we’ll kill him for everything he’s done.”

Despite his assurances, my chest felt gnawingly hollow. Every moment the memories tried to creep back up, I shoved them deep down back into their box. All I focused on was the steady movement of Max’s breaths beneath my head. When I tried to pull away, his grip tightened around my body. Gentle enough not to hurt my already busted upper body, but firm enough to keep me from moving.

“Stay.”

I shook my head. Max was my enemy. Max was everything I hated. He wasn’t supposed to be a comfort here. He wasn’t supposed to be trying to make me feel better.

“Please,” he urged. I couldn’t look at him. “Just for me.”

I let him press my head back to his chest.

“Do you remember after our mammas died when I’d hold your hand?” he murmured.

More tears spilled down my cheeks. “Yes.”

“You had that stupid nightlight.”

“Shut up,” I laughed through the pain. The visions in my head faded. “I loved that nightlight.”

He was quiet for a moment. “We got through it, didn’t we?”

I nodded.

“We’ll get through this, I promise.”

His words broke something inside me. I didn’t want to fight against what he was offering, even if it was just for the moment. I clung to him, burying myself deeper into his arms.