One minute to spare and it’s only the grace of a switching traffic light that allows me to reach the intersection near the hotel while the final seconds count down. Fifty. Thirty. Ten. Three. When I finally cross the street, my heart is pounding in my chest—however, the moment my heel strikes the curb, the cell phone in my pocket rings, marking the end of this round of the game.
“Very good, Mi Bella,” Vinny praises once I answer it. His voice trembles. He’s excited. He’s...he’s in a mood. “I’m in the car,” he tells me, just as I spot a familiar vehicle lurking a few blocks ahead. “Walk toward it.”
“Wait,” I croak, dragging my feet the way a child tries to desperately stave off her punishment. “Let him go first...please. Then I’m yours.”
A growl nips at my words. No one ever tells Vinny what to do and lives for the insult—but my old friend is as calculating as he is cold. He may be able to see me, but he can’t be certain that I haven’t brought along anyone who might be lurking out of sight. At this moment I hold the power, and I can almost hear him tallying up the pros and cons. Was getting me back really worth losing his leverage so soon?
I don’t realize that I’m holding my breath until the car door opens and a tall figure finally staggers out. Any fear that he could be Vinny or one of his men is dashed once he hits the ground on his knees. In the end, it takes him five tries to stand upright, and when he turns to me, I see why. Where several fingers of his right hand used to be are now just bloody stumps.
My, how that scarlet substance seems so different outside of the devil’s domain. It’s redder here. Harsher. More violent. Espi leaves a brutal ruby trail behind, and I don’t know how I manage to stay standing when he staggers toward me, his eyes widening with recognition. “N-No.” Shaking his head, he tries to turn back, but I’m on him before he can even make it halfway.
Up close, I smell the blood dripping from a cut on his forehead. His left eye is swollen shut, and I can’t tell how badly hurt he might be beneath his sweatshirt. When I seize a handful of his collar and shove him past me, he’s too weak to resist. “Run,” I tell him without looking back.
“No. Don’t do this, Danny,” his voice is only a strained whisper, and I hesitate for a single moment. How easy would it be to run, I wonder as I glance along the deserted street. Though, how easy would it be for Vinny to hunt us both down?
“Please, Espi. Run for me,” I choke out, taking a painful step forward. “And don’t stop running until they’re gone.”
I don’t look back to see if he listened. With my eyes on the black car, I keep walking, drawing out every last step to give him enough time. Vinny isn’t oblivious to the tactic, and static blares from the phone still in my grip.
“I’m waiting, Daniela,” he snaps when I bring the receiver to my ear. “My patience is wearing thin.”
I force myself to walk faster, and I pray to god that Espi is already gone by the time I finally reach the black car. As if in slow motion, the door to the backseat opens and a man climbs out, his expression wary—Gino.
“Ms. Manzano,” he greets, holding the door open for me.
I’m not sure how much time passes before I climb inside. Seconds? Minutes? An eternity?
Freedom doesn’t want to loosen its hold on me, just yet. It lingers, taunting me with all the new memories I’ve gained during my time spent outside my cage. Lucifer’s words are still in my head. His scent still fills my lungs, and maybe that musk is what gives me the strength to curl my knees and collapse onto a leather seat across from a man I somehow always knew that I could never escape.
Vinny watches me without a shred of emotion. He is stone, his eyes darker than coals, as he reaches into the pocket of his crisp, designer suit jacket and withdraws something that glints in the light filtering in through the tinted windows. He makes sure that I recognize it before he slips it on the index finger of his left hand—or at least as far as he can, forcing it just past the bed of the fingernail. It’s my ring.
Fixated on the diamond, I almost miss the telltale jerk of his shoulder right before he slaps me and the blow catches me unguarded across my cheek. The icy pain searing across the bridge of my nose warns me that he broke the skin. Unsatisfied, he strikes me again, so hard my body is flung across the seat and blood floods my mouth. Old habits die hard, and I wipe the droplets away with the back of my hand before they can taint the leather upholstery. Without a word, Vinny waits until my blurring vision clears before he slips off the ring and returns it to his pocket. Then he glances over at the man still holding the car door open and jerks his chin toward the main road.
“Hunt that motherfucker down and put a bullet in his head,” he says, ordering Espi’s death the same way one might order coffee.
Nodding, Gino takes off, and I can’t see anything through the windows when I fling myself against one, bracing both hands flat. I struggle to scream away, hoping my voice manages to escape. “Espi, run! Espi run—”
Vinny growls, and I hear his fist fly through the air, landing like a missile against the back of my skull. Black. Pain explodes behind my temples, but by then my head is already floating. I’m drifting...weightless. And for a brief, blissful second, I almost believe that he actually killed me.
But when I partially regain consciousness on the floor of the car I feel his hand stroking my throbbing cheek.
As if escape would be that easy.