Page 29 of Point Proven
“Cordial doesn’t cut it when you’re dealing with men like him,dove.”
Cutting off their banter, my tongue darted out to swipe against my bottom lip. “When are we meeting with him?”
“First thing tomorrow morning.” Drumming his fingers on the counter, he corrected himself. “Well, I guess first thing today.”
“Okay.”
“Wonderful. Should I bring anything, you know, as a gift?” Oren scratched the side of his head. “Well… do you even bring gifts to the Mafia?”
“No,” Thorne groaned, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “Bring your best behavior, because thelastthing I want to deal with is going head-to-head with him whenhis menare the ones currently cleaning up our house.”
“Not even like apastry?”
“Oren.”
“Okay!” Holding up his hands in surrender, he frowned. “Just seems wrong. Manners and all, but I’ll be good.”
Chuckling, I pressed my palms into my thighs as I stood, taking a moment to adjust to the mechanical device pushing against my skin.
“Well, anyone want breakfast before we deal with Mafia shit?”
Oren raised his hand. “Omelet would beamazing.”
“Best I can do is eggs, scrambled. Maybe cheese added, if you want to be fancy,” I said with a wink.
“I’ll take a ‘best I can do,’” Thorne chuckled, slipping into one of the dining chairs.
With them bickering away, I slipped into the mundane task of cooking, keeping myself busy as best I could. We were getting ready to meet the Italian Mafia, and while it was highly dangerous, if it meant rescuing Liam, I didn’t care.
Sunshine, I’m coming. I fucking promise.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
LIAM
Astifled groan left me as I shifted slightly, silken sheets brushing against my back. Lifting a hand, I moved to rub my aching throat, but my fingers met metal instead. Panic bloomed, and as I abruptly sat up, the iron ring around my neck forced me backward with a harsh cough.
No. No no no no…
Attempting to curl my fingers beneath it was impossible; it fit like a second skin. I blinked a handful of times, working to clear the haze that still lingered, and when I realized where I was, my stomach plummeted.
The square iron posts that framed the bed taunted me, their towering presence and the various rings welded into them serving as reminders of far too many things. A chain trailed from the collar he’d forced me into, its end fused to the headboard, making it impossible for me to move beyond merely sitting up straight.
Black paint adorned the bedroom walls, the dark hue sliding toward me as if the space I occupied were shrinking with each panted breath. Tipping my chin back to try and gather my bearings, the large mirror overhead sent me slipping intoanother heightened spiral, my bottom lip quivering as I tried to fixate on the crimson accents within my makeshift cage.
Rubbing the heels of my palms over my pants, I tried to ground myself, but without Simon, it was useless. I whimpered, my eyes darting back and forth as I reached for the blankets around me, covering my clothed frame with them as if they’d somehow save me fromhim.
The bathroom door opened; water dripped from his slightly greyed black hair as his dark amber eyes met mine. Smirking, he tapped his exposed neck. “Much larger than the one you had as a kid, isn’t it?”
Tears billowed, slipping to my waterline. “Let… Let me out of here…”
“So you’re suggesting I can kill Simon, then, yes?”
“No…No!” Pulling on the chain, I shook my head. “I-I… I can’t… Take it off… Please take it off…”
“No.Youran away, so you’ll wear it as a reminder of who owns you.”
I ripped at the rings again as my breathing intensified. “Take it off. Take it off. Take it off. Take itoff. Take it off!”
