She’s staring intently at the man on the ground. “He dead?”
“No, but he’s going to wish he was when that headache kicks in tomorrow.” I step over him and take out my knife to start cutting away the zip ties holding her in place.
“You must be the Italian.”
“I amanItalian,” I answer vaguely.
“You’re Dani’s guy—the one letting her hide out at his place. I don’t suspect anyone else would be here rescuing me, though I’m not sure why you would be either.”
Dani’s guy. Fuck, I like the sound of that. “Yeah, that’s me. Now, let’s get you out of here.” I lead the way but turn back when I realize she’s still standing in the same place. “You coming?”
“What’s in this for you?” She’s demanding for someone in her predicament, but I can’t say I don’t appreciate her directness.
“You mean why am I here to rescue you?”
“Exactly. What are you getting out of taking this kind of risk?”
“I get Danika,” I say simply.
She eyes me as though trying to hear what’s going unsaid. She doesn’t trust me for a second.
“We really don’t have time for this,” DiAngelo interjects irritably.
I raise my brows at the woman questioningly. “You’ll have plenty of time to sort out your suspicions once we’re out of here. We’ve got Petra in a safe house with room for you. First thing tomorrow, you’ll both get to see Danika. Or, you can wait here and keep this guy company until the next shift shows up.” I nudge the unconscious Russian with my boot.
The spitfire woman Danika calls Gran grunts and finally starts forward, though she pauses long enough to kick her captor in the junk and mutter something about kidnapping an old lady.
She’s got serious balls. I’m glad they didn’t kill her.
Danika is going to be over the moon.
And even more importantly, I’ve fulfilled my end of the bargain. It’s time for Danika to fulfill hers and become my wife.
CHAPTER 27
DANIKA
It’s exactly9:57 at night when Tommy finally returns. I know because I’ve been sitting in the living room staring at the clock for over an hour. Setting up my painting supplies only occupied me for so long. Once the worries grew overwhelming, I couldn’t concentrate on anything else. Sante’s had the television going, but I haven’t paid any attention.
I jump to my feet when the front door opens, then see that Tommy’s alone. No Gran.
My emotions are swept high in the sky only to plummet back to earth in the span of seconds like a defunct paper airplane. I press my hand over my mouth, silencing myself. I’m too scared to ask.
Tommy sees my fear and raises his hands reassuringly. “She’s safe with your mother.” He grimaces. “I should have texted. I’m sorry. We went back to the old apartment to get her things, then took her to the safe house. It was a process. She’s not exactly compliant, and we had to be overly cautious in case Biba was watching the apartment.”
I suck in a gulp of air like a drowning swimmer reaching the surface, then devolve into a fit of tears. The very worst of my fears revolved around something happening to my family. I’vebeen holding those thoughts at bay because my imagination is too vivid to even entertain the possibilities. I had to block it all out, but now that they’re safe, it’s like letting water out of a dam that leads to a total structural collapse.
I plop back onto the sofa and ugly cry. Sobbing, sniffling, snotty weeping.
Sante makes a hasty exit as Tommy joins me on the sofa, pulling me onto his lap.
“Fuck, Dani. I said I’m sorry.”
“I’m just … relieved. I was … so worried,” I say between hiccuping breaths.
Tommy holds me close, pressing kisses to my head. “Everything’s fine now. I’ll take you to see them first thing tomorrow, yeah?”
I nod and try to wipe the torrent of moisture from my face. “Thank you, Tommy,” I whisper against his chest. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
