Page 56 of Keeping Kasey (Love and Blood #3)

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

Kasey

I don’t bother fighting Emilio as he drags me from the car by his grip on my shoulder.

The freezing cold bites my bare arms, but I know this discomfort is nothing compared to what I will face inside.

I hold my head high, resisting the pathetic urge to beg Emilio to let me go. He won’t, and I refuse to lose my dignity along with my life. Of course, that doesn’t make the walk to the cabin feel any less like a walk to the gallows.

My arms, ears, and nose are numb by the time we reach the door, and an expectant soldier opens it for us. Emilio drags me inside, and I gag at the smell. The rancid scent is so pungent I can practically taste it, and in a space this small, it’s impossible to escape.

Finding the source of the smell takes a fraction of a second.

An elderly man is lifelessly slumped against the wall in the kitchen.

Staring at him, next to the five large men dressed in all black surrounding me, I have to assume the poor man was the owner of this cabin.

It’s the sixth man standing in the center of the room who steals my attention.

Leon Diaz.

The boss of the Diaz family.

He’s a broad man in his late forties and well over six feet tall with an air of untouchability. His hooded, light brown eyes might as well be black for all the warmth and life they emit. The chill from his stare rivals the blizzard outside.

His dark brown hair is slicked back, and his beard covers the lower half of his face, which is set in a frown that looks permanently etched there. He’s handsome in a way that’s equal parts terrifying and alluring.

He wears a crisp black suit with a thick coat over it, hands casually resting in his pockets. It’s an easy stance for such a formidable man. Like he’s trying to project a deceptive ease, yet all I feel is immediate danger and the overwhelming need to run.

Emilio releases my arm and stands beside his cousin.

“She doesn’t have the list,” he states in no particular tone.

Leon nods, a slow movement that doesn’t make him look any less like a statue. “And here I thought you were supposed to be smart.”

“Can’t say I had the same perception about you,” I say coolly.

Leon waves his hand, which is all the soldier at my side needs in explanation.

I’m not sure which happens first, but in a single second, my head snaps to the side from the force of a palm, and my knees slam into the ground as my legs are kicked out from under me. My face burns, and my knees sting as I replay Emilio’s warning in my head.

I should’ve taken him more literally.

“I’m not sure what kind of business the young Consoli runs these days, but here, I don’t tolerate disrespect. If you feel so compelled to voice snarky remarks, be my guest, but you’ll be met with the same response each time.”

I have to physically bite my tongue to keep quiet and hold back my tears. This bastard won’t get the satisfaction.

When I lift my head, Emilio’s expression is creased with disappointment. Leon, on the other hand, looks expectant, like he’s excited to see which option I choose.

He’d be amused to see me resist or obey him.

I keep my mouth shut, even as a chilling smile spreads over his lips like he’s a tiger playing with his prey.

“Guess that means it’s time to give Consoli a call, don’t you think?”

“It won’t work,” I whisper.

The soldier’s arm lifts to strike me again, and I flinch back, but the hit doesn’t come. When I look at Leon, he’s lifting a halting hand.

“If you’re implying you’re not worth saving, I’m inclined to agree,” he says with a playful grin. “But it’s not you he’ll be desperate to get back.”

Leon reaches into his back pocket, and I already know what he’s going to pull out before he throws the pictures onto the coffee table between us.

The ultrasound.

I don’t look at them. I can’t.

“I suppose congratulations are in order. You’re what? Twenty weeks along now?”

“It won’t work,” I repeat.

“You underestimate the power of an heir. Consoli is going to give me whatever I want.”

“There is no heir,” I tell him. “There is no baby.”

I watch as skepticism melts his smugness until he’s back to the deadly stare he wore when I first walked in. “What are you talking about?”

I know with vivid clarity that my life is about to end, but I can’t help myself—I shake with laughter. It’s a haunted sound, as hollow and hopeless as I have felt for weeks.

Leon was so sure of this plan.

“Should’ve been watching me more closely,” I say through a bitter laugh. “Then you might’ve realized I lost the baby eight weeks ago .”

The words are ash on my tongue, and speaking them makes the loss real, the pain sharper—like an axe hacking away at the disfigured remnants of my battered heart.

I’ve never spoken them before. Never admitted my loss out loud.

Not even to myself.

Every day of the six weeks I knew about my pregnancy, I delighted in saying the words: I’m pregnant.

It didn’t even matter that I had no one to share the news with. I was so happy to hear it every single time. The surge of joy it gave me, the excitement and hope that filled me each time I held my hand over my stomach and knew there was life growing inside me—a child.

My child.

Logan’s child.

Then, one day, all of that joy disappeared.

Hopelessness and pain made themselves at home in my empty chest, and I haven’t had it in me to kick them out. The pain—as excruciating as it’s been—is all I have left of the child who should’ve been.

The only thing that makes it bearable to say the words out loud now is knowing that even if I die, Leon won’t win.

“He won’t come just for me. You have nothing ,” I tell him.

Realization settles over Leon’s face as he processes the implications.

Months of planning, tracing my every step, watching from the shadows for the right moment to strike—all for nothing.

Leon takes three steps forward. With his height, he only needed two to get close, but he doesn’t want to get close; he wants to dominate my space. I never break from his cold glare, not even as he lowers himself in front of me. Even crouched down, he still towers over me.

“Well, Consoli doesn’t need to know that, now does he?”

“What? No, you can’t—”

This time, it’s not a palm but a fist that slams into my jaw. It comes from above me, where the soldier stands at my side. I collapse to the ground, unable to break my fall with my hands still bound behind me. My ears ring, and I blink back the haziness threatening to take over.

“I need to see her face,” Emilio snaps.

The soldier grabs my hair, roughly tugging me up to my knees so Emilio can take a picture of me, then the ultrasound.

“Now,” Leon starts, wearing a wide, easy smile, “let’s give Consoli a call. Rex, hold her.”

The soldier’s grip on me shifts, so one hand covers my mouth, and the other holds a knife to my throat.

“One word, and you’re in for a world of pain,” Rex warns, pressing the blade harder for emphasis.

Leon pulls out his phone, and I’m itching to do something, but what? With a hand over my mouth, a knife to my throat, and surrounded by enemies, my options are nonexistent.

I hear the phone ringing, even as it’s held to Leon’s ear, and I hold my breath.

“Consoli, how are you these days?” Leon asks in a pleasant tone.

When Logan’s voice comes through the line, a single tear runs down my cheek as I mentally beg him not to fall for any of this.

I watch Leon’s lips moving, but I can’t hear anything over the pounding in my ears. I need to do something— anything to stop Logan from coming here.

I know the price of defying Leon, but losing Logan to a lie is worse.

I throw my head back and twist to elbow Rex as I jerk away as hard as I can. I cry out as his knife slices my collarbone, and Emilio moves to help Rex get a hold of me, but it doesn’t matter.

Even though I never fully escaped Rex’s grip, he couldn’t keep his hand over my mouth.

“It’s a lie, Logan! There is no baby! Don’t come here!” I scream at the top of my lungs just before a foot lands on my stomach.

The breath is knocked out of me, and I gasp desperately for air that won’t come as Rex drags me up by my hair. I barely draw oxygen into my lungs before I’m thrown back to the ground.

“You don’t take direction well, do you?” Leon asks, and with his phone tucked away, I realize that I might’ve been too late.

Did Logan hear me?

“The fact that you’re not carrying the Consoli heir makes this much more interesting,” he muses with a cold smile. “You’ve given me no reason to be careful with you. Rex, knock yourself out.”

The air shifts, thickening with anticipation. I know what’s coming before Rex even steps forward. My body tenses, bracing for the agony—but nothing could’ve prepared me.

The pain that follows is easily the worst I have ever experienced in my life.

I’m kicked, slapped, punched, and dragged across the floor.

Not a single person in that cabin lifts a finger to help me, and why would they? I’m sure they’re enjoying the show Rex puts on.

I learn quickly that I am not above begging. Somewhere between a gash over my eye and the relentless throb in my leg, I plead with Rex to stop through labored gasps. I only give up when a snap in my ribcage makes every breath burn like hellfire.

So, I’m left with only one thing to do.

Hope.

I hope Logan doesn’t love me the way I love him. I hope he won’t forgive me. I hope he won’t want me. I hope that he will let me die to protect his family.

At least then—with Logan and his family safe—I can make peace with my death.