What in the fuck?
Chills spread over my sweat-covered skin as I come to an abrupt halt at the top of the stairs. Those words are the third time that’s happened to me. Twice when it’s come to Luca. There won’t be a third time, and never again, when it comes to the voice that has controlled Sienna.
That voice needs to be gone. It is the only way Sienna will ever be entirely free.
Every muscle in my body escalates to high alert. Luca isn’t supposed to be here. By the sounds of it, he didn’t listen to Victoria when he called her. She told him to get back into the van and wait for Aiden to find them.
And what the hell does Joseph mean by mute?
I don’t have time to think about it.
My mathematical brain has been counting down the minutes since Gabe and I parted on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant after Aiden called to tell us where Joseph was, along with him having a bad feeling something happened to Lorenzo. Which, by the sounds of it, he was right, then I have four minutes to remain calm and keep them on this roof while I wait for Gabe to break into the building next door and shoot the motherfucker. Not the brightest plan to do in front of a child. We had no idea Luca was up here.
Fucking hell. Panic strikes my system. The damage this would cause to Luca hits me head-on. The kid has been through enough.
The ticking clock in my head reminds me I could be running out of time. I have to do what’s needed to keep my family alive.
The door leading to the roof is open enough to give me a clear shot. I’m not wasting another minute. My family might not have one to spare.
Silently, I step forward, pausing briefly when I notice Matteo slumped against the wall. Eyes vacant. Dead. I was hoping he’d be alive. Should have known he wouldn’t be if he didn’t greet me with his gun the second I landed at the top of the stairs.
“Please. You can beat me, break me, do anything to me, just let Luca go, Joseph. I am begging you to let him go. Let me touch him. Let me touch my baby. Can’t you see he’s scared? We’ll go wherever you want. He’ll listen. He’ll talk, he’ll do whatever you say. Please let me touch him, Joseph. Oh, God, please.” A hiss follows Sienna’s begging, but it’s the loud smack against someone’s flesh, a tiny whimper, a thud and a scream that hits my spine like a serrated blade scraping across my bones that has me making a split-second decision to let myself be known.
Gun drawn, my pupils widen as I slowly push through the door, and my fingers tug at my stomach to pull the trigger and rid my family of the fear they’ve lived with long enough. I can’t—my internal debate about pulling the trigger and splattering blood all over my son pumps anger and hostility through my veins. My emotions are too goddamn high to do it.
Tears threaten to blur my vision. I shove them away. It takes me a second to register what I see. Joseph yanks Sienna off the ground by her hair, and places her in a one-armed chokehold. A knife at the base of her ear. Her cheek is bright red, eyes bulging the harder he squeezes. His other arm is stretched out taut and tight with what I assume is a gun pressing into my son’s forehead. Luca’s shoulders are shaking. His back is to me, a gun dangling at his fingertips.
Jesus Christ, my nine-year-old son has a gun in his hand. Just when I think this nightmare can’t get worse, it does. He has to be scared out of his mind, yet he stands tall with his feet planted on the ground.
Whatever is going through your mind, son, do not lift that gun.
It’s probably a damn good thing I can’t see the expression on Luca’s face because the one on Sienna’s is painful enough as I flick my gaze toward her. There’s guilt, worry, anxiousness, and relief, but the heartbreaking tremor of her lips, the outstretched arms that are shaking worse than I’ve ever seen, is what undoes me.
She wants Luca in her arms. No doubt thinking about how she’s missed him. How badly she wants to run her fingers through his hair and all other things she’s told me. Goddamn you, Joseph. I hope your trip to Hell is the beginning of endless torture and suffering.
Glancing left to where Lorenzo lies on his stomach, I can hardly make out through the semi-darkness how much blood is underneath him. From the shadows still covering half his body, I can’t tell if he’s breathing either.
He might be dead. He might be trying to hang on. He might not have the minutes we need to save him.
My head spins, stomach twisting and turning as realization sets in. I’ll die saving my family if that’s what it comes to. If I do, then mine and Sienna’s love story will live through our children.
“Shut up, bitch. The next time you beg, it will be on your knees. Luca, if you want your mom, then drop the gun and do what I tell you. I don’t want to kill you, son. You are my boy. I love you, but I will kill you before I kill your mother. You have thirty seconds to turn around, or I’ll shoot you.” There’s a slight shake in Joseph’s tone. The son of a bitch is borderline nervous, as he should be.
And my woman stands there with tears running down her face—tears of absolute heart-wrenching, agonizing pain.
I die a little right here.
“I’m not dropping the gun, and I’m not your son. My dad’s name is Lane. When you had me locked in a room, I dreamed he was a superhero, and he was going to save me and my mom and those girls. Let my mom go, and I’ll do whatever you say. I’ll go to Mexico, and I’ll help you. I’ll be the best gunman you and the militia have seen. I’ll train every day. I promise to make you proud. Just let my mom go.”
Mute my ass, my son has proven he’s a Mitchell by sacrificing his young life for his mother’s. It’ll go ignored by Joseph. To me, it’s everything—an even more stubborn, sneaky, and sacrificial male to the batch of Mitchells.
Mine.
My mind spins, and my heart fills. I’m no superhero, but I’ll die trying to keep that thought in Luca’s mind forever if need be.
Bitter laughter coming from Joseph closes down what Luca said in my thoughts. That proudness, though? It belongs to me.
“Is that so? Your superhero isn’t coming to save you. If he were, he’d have come with your grandpa. If he were a superhero at all, he wouldn’t have ever let your mother go in the first place. Or fall into my hands to where she became the obedient little queen I beat her into being. You had me fooled, son, by not talking. I’d show you how proud I am of you standing there, proving how good of a soldier you’d make if we weren’t days behind getting those girls across the border and into the hands of the men who bought them.”
Yeah, those words snap those parental emotions out of me for the time being. Deep down into the darkness, I go. Adrenaline pumps through my veins. That split-second decision is upon me. I only hope Luca doesn’t turn around out of curiosity to look at me.
Keep those feet rooted right where they are, son. If you turn around, I’m afraid Joseph will shoot you in the back of the head.
“That is so, asshole. I’ve had enough of Satan answering his disciple’s prayers when it comes to my family. It’s about time someone answers theirs. You’ll have to go through me. From where I’m standing, that isn’t going to happen. You stole my son from his mother. Whatever proudness, I’ll take credit for it since Luca has my blood running through his veins. Not yours.” I pause, taking my glare off the cocksucker and direct it at Sienna.
“Sienna, look at me.” My voice comes out rough, demanding and on the verge of pissed the fuck off. I am, but not at her. I need her to think I am before she falls farther into waves of shock that sweep her too far out of reach.
Come on, show me that face. Show me you are still here with me. Show me you trust me to get you out of here safely. Look at me so I can silently tell you to elbow the son of a bitch and give me a clear shot to blow his brains out.
“La Mia Vita,” I plea one more time before I’m left with no other choice except rattle Joseph’s chains enough that he turns his gun on me.
She won’t lift her head. I’m not sure she even knows I’m here. She stands there, trembling, eyes transfixed, pleading for our son
’s forgiveness.
“Well, I guess your superhero showed, after all. Let’s see which one of you he chooses to save.” The gun cocks. Sienna’s eyes go wide as do mine when Joseph presses the tip of the knife into her neck. Blood trickles, and her arms fall to her side.
My life flashes before my eyes. All the things, the memories, the having each other’s backs, the love I have for my brothers reels slowly. The day my little girl was born, the way she curled her tiny fingers around my pinky the first time I held her. The promises to the love of my life I never kept. I planned on keeping them through our second chance, but I also promised I would die trying to get our son back to her. Our son, I may never get to tell him how proud I am to call him mine.
If I die, I’ll go knowing my family will be safe.
“I choose them both. Sienna is mine. She tells me that every night. Luca is a Mitchell, that is something you can never change. It’ll be me who buys him his first car—me who coaches his football team—me who teaches him to be a man. Me, who helps fix any damage you’ve done to him. They are my life. I’ll take them on family vacations, picnics, barbeques, while you rot in Hell, asshole. I’m not walking out of here without either of them. You, on the other hand?” I shrug, leaving the rest of my statement to linger until my phone vibrates in my pocket that Gabe is in place.
I’ve done lost count. It has to be well past four minutes.
Shit, Gabe, where are you?
“Fuck you, Lane. She’s my wife. Not your life. Luca might have your blood, but he’s my son. He’s going to do what I tell him from here on out. If you’re lucky, I might not convince him to snatch your little girl someday and bring her to me. I’ll train her before selling her to the highest bidder. Wonder if she’d like living in Russia, Dubai, or maybe here in the states where she’s right under your nose?”
My heart catches in my throat, making it hard to breathe. Sweat drips down the side of my face, heart racing so fast it wants to explode. Lexi is my life too, and him speaking about her fuels me on by pure rage.
If the prick thinks he can rattle me better than I can him. He’d be wrong. As in, hurry the hell up Gabe, wrong.
“That won’t ever happen. I believe that with all I am, Luca will play you as long as it takes to free him and his mother if you were to get past me. He won’t change his way of thinking. Any guess why? Refresher, Joseph, he’s my son. Mine, in case I haven’t made that clear. You’ve known it all along. My blood shows in him by standing in front of you. You shoot him. Then I shoot you. It’s called a standoff, dumb ass. Sienna, I love you. I love you so damn much. Love our son, our life we are building. Joseph doesn’t have the power to break how much we love each other. He never has, he never will.” Now is the time for her to hear those words. It’s all I have left to make her feel me. Feel that unbreakable bond.
Her barely open eyes shoot my way. There she is, right here with me where she should be.
I strain to remain calm, not to let Joseph know he doesn’t have her as he thinks.
“You love her? It’s a little late for poetic words. As you can see, Sienna is doing what I say. Baby, tell him to drop his gun and get the hell out of my way. If you don’t, I’ll blow Luca’s brains out.”
Sienna flinches when Joseph presses the gun a little farther into Luca’s head, nearly knocking him to the floor. If he fell, it would be a hell of a lot easier to save them both. My little hero keeps standing, despite the urine that starts dripping down his legs.
The bottom of my feet catches fire, urging me to take off in a sprint and grab hold of both of them.
“Your wife loves another man. She always has. She’s been staying with me, doing a damn good job at this restaurant. Loving on my daughter as if she were her own. Sienna could be pregnant with another Mitchell baby right now, as far as I know. She’s her own person, but she belongs to me. You found out about me and her, and it altered your plans. You were hoping she’d die so you could take my son with you to Mexico. That was your plan all along. When you realized she wasn’t dead, you were going to leave her to wonder for the rest of her life until you found out about her and me. Am I right?” I know I am. I know my son could pay the price for provoking him too. My gut tells me wrong. It didn’t let me down when I hopped on Lorenzo’s plane to get to Logan after I’d found out his enemy was out of prison earlier than we thought. It was a good thing I listened to it. My brother was lying in a pool of blood. He’d been shot.
It gnawed away at me like it is now. Joseph wants to kill me as badly as he wants Sienna. He hates me as much as I do him and he knows well and good I will shoot him at the same time he does me.
It won’t get that far, not when my brave beauty is waiting for the sign from me to finally set her free. I just need Gabe to hurry the hell up so I don’t chance to die in the process.
Hold on, son. Hold on.
“Ah, so the superhero is a mind reader too. I’d clap, but as you can see, my hands are deciding which one to kill. If I choose to let Sienna live, if she is pregnant, then I’ll make damn sure she never sees it. I will take the baby from her the minute she delivers. I gave Lorenzo until the count of three to back away from my wife. I’ll do the same for you. Drop your weapon. One.” His laughter rakes across my nerves.
Come on, Gabe. Damn it.
“Fuck you, Joseph. If you think I’ll drop my weapon and let you waltz out of here with my family, you are crazier than I thought.” Spit flies from my mouth as I shout behind clenched teeth. My nerves are worn out. My finger presses a tinge on the trigger.
“They are my family. You fucked your chance all to hell and then stormed in like some white knight thinking you’re going to steal her away. Fuck off, Mitchell. I raised Luca. He’ll do what I say when I say. When I tell him to jump, he’ll ask how high, Dad. You call my son yours again or attempt to move. I’ll slice her throat at the same time I blow Luca’s brains out. They’ll both die along with me. You’ll live in Hell for the rest of your days knowing you didn’t save them. The choice is yours. Now drop your gun and move out of my way. Two.”
My vision blurs, the floor shaking beneath my feet.
I slightly nod, praying Sienna saves us all.
“No, you will not take another thing from me, Joseph. Run, Luca.” My heart pounds as Sienna hikes up her arm quicker than the speed of the bullet that hits Joseph in the back of the shoulder holding the gun.
Gabe. Thank fuck.
Joseph drops to his knees. The gun and knife clatter to the ground. I spring into action, go to sweep up Luca, but Sienna beats me to it, and she starts to run.
Every part of me seizes in that fatherly desperation to look, to touch, and to make sure the two of them are alright.
“Sienna, stop. Seth should be here by now with a doctor to look at Luca and you. You stay with him.” It doesn’t take long for her to heave out a sigh of relief. Agony gone.
“I love you, Lane Mitchell,” she says through tears that keep sliding down her face.
“I know.” I wait until I can’t hear her footsteps before starting to count. Ten seconds. One for each year of her pain.
After what she and our son have gone through, it’s a shame not to drag out Joseph’s torture for just as long. My family needs me more.
“Unlike you, who is only smart enough to come up with bullshit, half thought-out plans, Sienna thought quick on her feet by coming here. You don’t have her the way you want her; you never had her at all. She’s mine. All of her is. And those girls, they are on their way home. I could give you a choice to have me kill you, or turn you over to the cartel, but I won’t. You never gave Sienna one. Rot in Hell, Joseph.”
With a groan, he reaches for the knife only to have me stomp on his hand, the sound of his bones crunching puts a smile on my face.
“Fuck you. Sienna will never recover; neither will my son.” He snarls and raises his head to look me in the eye.
“That’s where you’re wrong. Dead fucking wrong.”
The sun is rising. It’
s a new day, a new beginning.
I place the gun at his forehead and pull the trigger.
Epilogue
Lane
Fourteen months later
“Illegal hands to the face, number eighty-one on the offense. The result is a fifteen-yard penalty. Repeat third down.”
“Bullshit,” I mutter, wanting to tell the ref to shove his call right up his ass.
“Fifteen yards? What do you think this is, the NFL? It’s junior league football, that should have only been five yards, and you know it. What about roughing my quarterback by the defense before he threw the ball?” The entire game, I’ve kept my temper in check. Trying to set an example for my team. Mostly for my son. But that penalty was a crock of shit.
The foul was on purpose. I can’t get my running back, Eli, to keep his free hand down when he’s carrying the ball. He’s quick on his feet, can weave past most defenders, but he has the attention span of a gnat when it comes to listening to what I say. He’s mouthy. A spoiled punk and one of these days, Luca is going to lose what he’s worked so hard to keep contained by punching the kid.
I don’t want today to be that day.
He’s thrown a near-perfect game, and the weight falls on the quarterback. But if Luca wants to continue playing, he needs to control himself, or I won’t let him play until he does.
I get his frustration. I see the anger because there are days I still feel it. It took me a long ass time for it to simmer. It didn’t matter my family was all together. My boy was hurting. Sienna was crying all the time with worry once I told her Luca wasn’t okay.
We were a mess. Finally, Sienna started counseling, so did I, and eventually, the four of us went together. The only one still seeing a therapist is Luca. “Come on, son, do not get in Eli’s face. Let me handle it,” I mutter under my breath.
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