I don’t even know what to say. He’s kneeling in front of me like he’s about to do something much worse than checking out some bruises. Reluctantly, I let him roll up the hem of my baggy jeans, slowly exposing my tanned and muscular leg. I grab the pant leg before he can go much further up my thigh.
“That’s enough,” I say, heart racing.
He licks his lips, looking at me with a strange mixture of desire and surprise. But then he probes at my knee, making a low grunting sound. “I think you’re okay. You’ll be bruised and swollen, but I doubt it’s broken.”
“That your expert opinion?” I shove him back, even though the sight of him down there drives my heart wild. “I want a phone. I need to call Raf.”
“Alright.” Luca stands up as I roll my pant leg back down. My God, what’s with this guy? “Get inside.”
The bossy motherfucker.
But I’m not in a position to argue. Even though I keep trying. He leads me through the door and into an industrial space similar to my family’s big chop shop garage. Except this one’s filled with trucks, some of them undergoing repairs, others sitting around idle waiting to get back out on the road. There are working men in here, but they seem much more normal. Half of them ignore us, and the others seem only mildly curious. Luca nods to an older man with graying hair and a sharp face and gets a small salute in return.
We duck into an office at the far end of the building. Luca closes the door, flips the blinds shut, and locks it. I cross my arms over my chest, struggling to keep myself under control as the memory comes back. Normally, I can keep it out of my head, but watching men get butchered earlier messed me up more than I like to admit, and now some of my old wounds are leaking again.
They’ll come soon. You know they will, right?
Of course they will. So drink as much water as you want.
Shouldn’t I save some for you?
It’s okay. You have it. There’s not a lot.
But what if they don’t come?
They will. Just drink.
I rub my face with both hands, probably leaving grease stains down my cheeks like black tears.
“Here, you can use this.” Luca drops a landline phone onto a big steel desk cluttered with paperwork and notebooks. The office is simple, with a big whiteboard covered in shipping schedules, a calendar, more books, filing cabinets, and work materials, plus several more chairs. There’s a blanket and a pillow folded neatly on a small couch, and I wonder if he sleeps in here sometimes.
I sit in the chair behind the desk. Luca moves away, his cell held up to his ear, speaking softly to someone on the other end. I dial Raf’s number, my knee jostling up and down. I want to get the hell out of this room as soon as I can. I want something to make sense again.
I want to make sure nobody shot my poor beautiful Spider.
“Hello? Who is this?” Raf sounds annoyed.
“This is your younger sister. I’m currently being kidnapped by the Marino family. So don’t act like picking up the phone is some crazy imposition.”
Raf lets out a sigh. “Hello, Fiorella. You sound okay.”
“What the hell is happening, Raf?”
“Honestly, I’m not totally sure. I got a call an hour ago from Luca Marino. Apparently, some crooked cop they have on their payroll got a tip about a raid at our shop. I made sure the guys knew to steer clear, but you always go in early. Luca said he’d pick you up.”
I glance over at my kidnapper. Or maybe my savior. I’m still not convinced, but at least his story checks out. “They showed up. There was shooting.”
Raf’s voice lowers. “Anyone get hurt? Are you okay?”
“Luca got me out. But the other guys—” I stop talking, glancing down. My stomach twists into a knot. I’ve seen my share of violence over the years, but it never fails to make me feel small and helpless all over again.
“Where are you?”
I tell him about the trucking depot. “He’s with me right now. I think he’s talking with his people.”
“All right. Okay, that’s good. You’re safe, Rella. Just sit tight and I’ll send some people to pick you up.”
“This is beyond fucked. A heads-up would’ve been nice. I thought I was getting kidnapped.”
