“Well, I do worry, and I will keep bugging you to let us keep you safe.”
“You just take care of yourself, Dani,” she replies in a voice weighted with concern. “I know you think this man you’re staying with is different, and for your sake, I pray that he is, but be careful. They hide their true nature.”
Images of Tommy come unbidden to my mind—tender kisses on my forehead, the awe on his face when he looked at my artwork. Even when he first took me hostage, he couldn’t help but guide me through deep breaths when I panicked. Those aren’t the actions of a monster. And more to the point, those are the glimpses of Tommy at his most genuine self. I’d say she’s right. Both Biba and Tommy wear masks, but where Biba puts on a charming front to hide the lack of a soul, Tommy’s mask serves as armor to protect the goodness he hides down deep.
I could try to convince her, but she won’t believe me about Tommy any more easily than I’ll believe Biba isn’t a threat to her.
“I know, Mama. I’m going to be okay. I promise.” As I say the words, I realize that with Tommy helping me, I believe them. “Gran, you doing okay?”
“Yeah,” she answers breezily. “The doctor said the dizziness was just heart palpitations and nothing to worry about.”
“What?” This is the first I’ve heard of Gran having heart palpitations.
“It’s nothing for you to worry about,” Mom tries to assure me. “Seeing Biba’s goons here got her agitated, and she had a little arrhythmia. The doctor said that’s not unusual in high-stress situations. She’s fine now—feisty as ever.”
I breathe deeply. “Please, be careful, you two.”
“You know I will,” Mom says, “but this old woman here has never listened to either one of us, you know that. She went to the laundromat yesterday after I told her I’d handle the laundry this week. She waited until I was in the bathroom and took off.”
I can picture the entire scene in my mind—including Mom ranting to herself in an empty apartment. The two of them are more alike than they want to admit. I have to smile. I love both of them so much. “Do your best, and Gran? Behave,” I chide playfully.
We exchange I love yous and say goodbye. I disconnect and try to decide whether the call made me feel better or worse when I realize I’m no longer alone. I look over at the man leaning against the entry wall, expecting to see Tommy, only to find a terrifying stranger watching me. He’s enormous—like the Brawny man but with tattoos and a scowl.
So many thoughts flood my brain that I freeze, my mouth hanging open like a fish yanked from the water with no idea what’s just happened.
My first thought is Biba. He’s found me.
But how? Could someone in Tommy’s organization have leaked my location?
The man comes off the wall, snapping me out of my stupor. I jump to my feet and stumble backward in retreat.
“Get away from me. I’m not letting you take me.” I look around frantically for some sort of weapon. Anything to stop him. Yesterday, I had considered letting Biba win so that my family would be safe. When faced with the reality of actually being stuck in a forced marriage, my survival instinct is screaming at me to fight. To do anything I can to get away. Only, I don’t know how. There’s nothing at all that remotely resembles a weapon. Tommy doesn’t havethings.
I grab a small potted plant and hold it in one hand as I continue to inch backward. My pursuer watches me, his head angling a fraction to the side as though studying a newly discovered species. “Take you where? To Tommy?”
I freeze, my eyes widening. “Tom—? Tommy?” His name is a benediction falling from my lips. “You’re not one of Biba’s men?”
His head falls back with a bellow of laughter, but it’s short-lived. When he looks back at me, the deranged edge in his stare steals my breath. “Nah. That bastard can go fuck himself.”
My relief is instantaneous and overwhelming. I plunk the plant back on its table, then try to steady myself as my vision blurs and my legs threaten to give out.
“Fucking Christ.” The clipped curse barely penetrates the ringing in my ear before I’m swept off my feet. Though I don’t know this man from Adam, I cling to him because every ounce of strength has left me, and I’m seconds away from passing out.
“Sorry,” I mutter. “Just need … to sit … for a second.”
“No shit.”
He takes two steps toward the sofa when the primary bedroom door bangs open, and a buck-naked, soaking-wet Tommy charges at us, a gun in his hand.
“What the fuck is going on here?”
CHAPTER 19
TOMMY
“Easy, Tommy. Put the gun away.”DiAngelo slowly sets Danika back on her feet but doesn’t let go of her completely.
“I think I’d like to hear what the fuck you’re doing here, first. I know my door was locked.” I didn’t turn the alarm on after coming back from my run, but I’m religious about locking the door. That means either Danika let in a man she didn’t know, or this muscled-up asshole broke into my house. I’m not thrilled about either option.
