Page 45 of Saved By A God
I stare at him for a moment before dread crashes over me and everything that’s happened floods my mind.
The attack. My men. Alessio. Raffaele.
The heartache is too unbearable to handle.
The call with Enzo while trying to get to safety. Hearing his pain.
It hurts too much to even think about how this will affect Enzo.
The crippling fear I was faced with.
I had to press the button. The family always comes first. But goddamn, I really thought I was toast.
The frantic rush to get to the SUV and being restrained.
Who the fuck has me? Where am I? What is this place?
It feels like someone takes a sledgehammer to my heart, the anguish so intense, I can’t breath past it.
My men.
My family.
Enzo.
The sound that leaves me is more like a whine from a beaten dog than a human.
I look down, and seeing the cuffs around my wrist, connected by a short length of chain, makes my lips part as panic claws its way up my throat. My breaths speed up dangerously fast when I notice heavy shackles encircling my ankles, also linked together by a chain. My sneakers and socks are gone, but at least I’m still wearing my baggy jeans and T-shirt.
The chains are probably there to give me enough movement to keep me mobile while making sure escape isn’t an option.
A shiver moves over my body, and I curl into myself.
Jesus, it’s cold in here.
“Rosie!” This time the man’s voice carries a tone of authority. When my eyes snap to his face, there’s still no emotion. “I asked how you feel?”
I recognize his voice. He’s the one who grabbed and chloroformed the hell out of me.
I think he led the attack, which tells me he’s in a position of power.
Pushing all the confusion and pain aside, I lift my chin and level him with a ruthless look. “It’s Miss La Rosa to you. Only my friends get to use my name.”
He nods. “How do you feel, Miss La Rosa?”
“Jesus, you’re really persistent. How do you think I feel? You destroyed my home and killed my men.”
Not replying to what I just said, he asks, “Any nausea? Double vision? Headache?”
Headache… yes.
Body… feels like Enzo made me run a hundred laps.
Nausea… enough that I wouldn’t try eating, but I could do with some water.
I glance at the sink and scrunch my nose in disgust.
“You’re thirsty.”
