Page 64 of Saved By A God
“I’ll pay it. It’s not every day I get to fuck a capo.”
I’m yanked forward and have no choice but to walk as Rodian forces me out of the hall where I’ve been working my ass off, then he shouts, “Why am I still waiting to be shown to a fucking room?”
The chains make it impossible for me to move any faster, and it has him swiping me off my feet and up into his arms.
I hear footsteps pound on the floor as someone runs past us while saying something in Russian.
When I feel Rodian’s breath near my face, I jerk, but before I can pull away, he whispers, “Just go along with it. You’re safe.”
I remain tense as hell in his arms, and finally my vision begins to return, but then he steps out of the building, and I’m hit with bright sunlight.
“Jesus,” I whimper as my eyes slam shut again.
It feels like he walks to the other side of the damn prison before we enter another building and I’m able to see where we are.
We’re following Mikhail down a long hallway with doors on either side, then the guard stops in front of one and shoves it open.
Rodian steps inside and kicks the door shut before setting me down on my feet.
I sway from the sudden motion.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
I shake my head as a wave of nausea rolls through my stomach, and glancing around, I run to the sink, but as I heave, nothing comes out.
It goes on for so long that my ribs hurt, and when it finally stops, I slump down to the floor.
“Christ,” Rodian grumbles, then he picks me up again and carries me to a bed that’s pushed up against a wall. When I tense up, he says, “I’m not going to hurt you. The last thing I need is the Cosa Nostra hunting me for the rest of my life.”
The urge to cry wells in my chest, but I use the meager strength I have to fight it back.
Rodian sits down on the side of the bed, his blue gaze sweeping over me. “You look like shit.”
An empty-sounding chuckle bursts over my cracked lips. “Thanks. It’s the five-star treatment your people have given me.”
He pulls his phone out, then asks, “What is Christiano’s number?”
“Huh?” My head pops up.
“Give me his number so I can call him.”
My heartbeat speeds up, and strength flows through my body as I move into a sitting position. My blurry gaze jumps between his phone and face. “Are you serious?”
“Does it look like I’m fucking joking?”
No.
Frowning at him, I mutter, “The Bratva will be able to track the call. What game are you playing at?”
“Give me more credit than that. The device is encrypted.”
Oh my God!
Wait. This might be the only call I get.
“Christiano might not answer.” My voice cracks over the words while my pulse speeds up even faster. “Call his underboss. Enzo.”
“Fine. Number?”
