His hand was burrowing down her jeans, and Hero began to panic. George grinned as he yanked her jeans down. “Relax, Hero…it’ll all be over soon.”
Arturo called out for his uncle as he pushed open the door to his uncle’s mansion, but he heard nothing. He stopped. Something wasn’t right here. Earlier, he’d called Gaudio and sent him over to protect his uncle if anything should go awry, and it wasn’t like the bodyguard not to be at his post.
Arturo swallowed the feeling of panic and strode through to his uncle’s study. Nothing. “Philipo?”
He checked the bedroom, the kitchen, and the living room. His uncle was nowhere to be found. Arturo yanked out his phone to call Hero, a nasty tightness in his chest.
Her phone went to voicemail. Fuck… Arturo turned to race to his car. He never saw the heavy marble bust before it smashed into his temple.
Hero was in deep trouble, and she knew it would take something extraordinary to get her out of this. George’s entire weight was on top of her, one hand clamped over her mouth and nose, cutting off her air supply. Her head felt woozy, and she knew George would think nothing of killing her if she tried to resist. Instead, she went limp, faked passing out. She felt like screaming when she felt his cock, half-erect, nudge at her sex. Please no, please not this, not like this…
“I know you’re faking, bitch,” George’s breath was hot against her cheek. “You better make this look good, or I will end you.”
His hands slipped around her throat then and began to squeeze tighter and tighter. Hero choked, her eyes flying open as adrenaline coursed through her system. George grinned.
“Hello, pretty whore. Now, open those legs for me, and you might get to see tomorrow. You know I watched him put that knife in Flavia—God, it was the hottest thing I ever saw. I could gut you right here, Hero…”
Suddenly Hero got really mad, insanely raging, and with one mighty roar, she kicked him off of her. “Motherfucker! You want to kill me? Do it, you scumbag, do it now!”
She slammed into him as he tried to stand, his cock deflating, and knocked him against the plate glass window of the suite. It shuddered but stayed intact as George recovered himself. “Fucking little bitch…I’m going to rip you to pieces!”
He lunged for her just as the door to the suite was kicked in, and Peter Armley burst in, a gun in his hand. As George went for Hero, Peter shot him, the bullet slamming into George’s forehead, splitting the back of his head wide open. George stopped dead, staring at Hero, then dropped to the floor, his eyes open and staring.
Hero, trembling so much she could barely stand, stared at Peter, at the gun in his hand. For a moment, she thought he might shoot her, but he shook himself, tucked the gun back into his waistband and grabbed a throw, wrapping it around her.
“Sweetheart, are you okay?” He hugged her to him, his voice gentle, and she couldn’t help but be comforted by it. She shook her head.
“No…I’m not…not at all. Please, Peter, get me out of here. I need to be with Arturo.”
Peter frowned. “Arturo? Do you know where he is? I’ve just been to his uncle’s house. There’s no one there. Even Philipo is gone.”
Hero looked at Peter with horror in her eyes. “No…no…he went there…his car was maybe two minutes behind mine at the most…we have to go there.”
She stood, wobbled and Peter caught her. “Sweetheart, we need to get you to the hospital…”
Hero’s tears poured down her cheeks. “No, please, Peter, please…” She was sobbing then, barely able to get her words out. “We have to find him…George was working with someone…he told me he watched whoever it was killing Flavia. Please, Peter, we have to find Arturo before…”
“Okay, okay…okay…just, breathe for me, please. Take a deep breath, Hero…” He waited until she obeyed him and smiled. “Good. Now, can I help you get dressed?”
She shook her head and felt awkward as she pulled her jeans on as he watched. Her body ached from George’s attack, but she pushed the horror of it to the back of her mind. There would be plenty of time to break down later when they were all safe.
Peter locked the hotel suite door behind them. “We’ll explain about George’s body later.”
As they hurried to the elevator, Hero wondered again where the hell her protection was, why the plan had gone so badly wrong.
As Peter helped her into his car, Hero searched the street for any sign of the police. Nothing. What the hell was going on?
“Here.” Peter handed her a hip flask. “It’s just Scotch, but it might make you feel better.”
Hero hesitated, but as Peter started the car and turned to drive out of town, she took a sip, then a large swig. He was right; it did feel better.
“Peter?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
Hero swallowed. “Do you think Arturo is…” She couldn’t bring herself to say the word ‘alive.’
Peter reached over and took her hand. “It’s going to be okay, darling. I swear it is.”
She squeezed his hand. “Thank you for saving me, Pete. George was going to kill me.”
His fingers tightened on hers. “No, baby, he wasn’t. George couldn’t kill anyone. He didn’t have the balls. What he did to you…that was the limit of his vileness. I’m so sorry that happened.”
“Thank you.” Her throat felt tight, but the alcohol had flooded her system it seemed, and she began to feel lightheaded. Too lightheaded. “I don’t feel right.”
“It’s the shock, honey. Are you sure I can’t take you to the hospital? You might need it.”
“No. Arturo…I need to get to him…” Her voice sounded distant to her, and her ears rang suddenly. “What’s happening to me?”
“I told you. Shock.”
She swallowed. “Did Arturo call you? He wanted you to meet him at Philipo’s?”
Peter laughed, but it was curiously mirthless. “I told you that, too. He called me, told me he’d found your sister, asked me to come get her to bring her to you. When I couldn’t find him at Philipo’s, I went to Villa Claudia. Your sister was there. She told me to come find you at the hotel. That’s how I knew to find you there.”
It was like an icicle being shoved into her heart, and instantly, Hero knew their worst fears were confirmed. She turned to look at him as he glanced at her, smiling, but his eyes were cold and dead.
“Oh my God,” she whispered and lunged for the steering wheel. Peter laughed as she struggled with him, then slammed his fist into her temple. The blow was so hard, her head bounced off the side window. Hero moaned from the blow, struggling to take her seat belt off, clawing at the door of the car. Peter laughed.
“Don’t bother, beautiful, besides I’m doing what you asked. I’m taking you to Arturo.”
Hero, feeling her consciousness begin to slip, stared at him in horror. “Did you kill him?”
“No. I didn’t kill Arturo, but like you, he may wake up with a little headache. By the way, if you’re feeling a little woozy, it’s because of the drug that’s in the Scotch. I thought you might get a little feisty.”
“What happened to the polizia?” Her voice was getting faint. “Why didn’t they come?”
“Never underestimate the power of money, Hero.”
She was fighting the sedative. “You want his money.”
“No, you stupid bitch…I want him. How come neither of you, you or Flavia, neither of you could see…Arturo belongs to me.”
Hero looked at him and saw the depth of his obsession. Peter was in love with Arturo? “You love him.”
“I’m not gay,” he said, sharply. “It goes beyond sexual love, but I don’t expect you to understand that. You and Flavia…there are a lot of differences, but the one thing you have in common is that you see his physical beauty, his kind heart, but you don’t see him.”
“You’re lying…I do see him. I see every part of him…” Her voice trailed away, and her vision faded for a moment…then… “You killed Flavia.”
“Yes.�
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“And you’re going to kill me?”
“Yes, Hero. I’m going to kill you. Only this time, I’m going to make Arturo watch as I stab you to death. He’ll watch the light go out in your pretty eyes and know it was all for nothing. That he again tried to love someone other than me, and it ended the same way as it always will. I’m going to enjoy killing you, Hero.”
“You’re insane…” The darkness was approaching relentlessly now. Peter reached over and stroked a finger down her cheek.
“And you’re about to be just another dead whore, Hero…sleep now. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you’re awake to feel my knife driving into you.”
Hero fought unconsciousness, knowing it was her only chance, but then it overwhelmed her, and she sank beneath it, knowing she might never wake up again.
Peter pulled up in front of Philipo’s villa, and for a moment, he smiled as he studied Hero’s inert form. “You really are very lovely,” he said, and pushed her T-shirt up, exposing her belly. He splayed his fingers over it, stroking the gentle curve of it, imagining how the skin would split under his knife. “Yes, you are perfect. I understand why he loves you. But for you, his love is a death sentence. A shame…I actually like you very much.”
He got out of the car and went around to the passenger side, lifting her out easily. He carried her into the villa, going straight to the kitchen. He laid her on the table in the kitchen. “This will have to suffice as my sacrificial altar, sweetheart.”
He left her, unconscious, and yanked open the door to the basement. In seconds, he was hauling a semi-conscious Arturo up the stairs. “Come on, Turo.”
He dumped Arturo into a chair and watched as his friend, his great love, focused on Hero’s unconscious body. Peter smiled then. “It’s time to say goodbye, Turo.”
And he raised his knife.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Arturo threw himself towards Peter just as Hero opened her eyes and saw the knife curving down towards her. Her self-preservation instincts kicked in and she rolled her legs up and kicked the knife away, just as Arturo tackled Peter.
Both men tumbled to the floor, grappling with each other. Peter began yelling as Hero rolled off the table. “Don’t fucking move, bitch. This is when you die.”
“Fuck you, psycho.” Hero scooted around to help Arturo. His beautiful face was soaked in blood from the vicious wound on his head, and for a moment, Hero felt herself freeze with distress.
“Go! Run!” Her lover screamed at her as he tried to quell Peter’s attempts to get to her but Hero, adrenaline beginning to course through her veins, smiled grimly.
“Not a fucking chance. This is where it ends for you, Peter.”
Peter laughed at her and then struck Arturo directly on his head wound, knocking him to the ground once more. Arturo couldn’t help releasing his grip as he groaned in agony, and Peter took off after Hero, who ran to the other side of the kitchen, grabbing anything she could get her hands on to fight him with.
Peter, tall and broad, dwarfed her, easily knocking the pans and weapons from her. Hero kicked out, aiming for his balls but he grabbed her foot and twisted it until she lost balance.
He grabbed her, hauling her struggling body to where Arturo was trying to get to his feet again. Hero bucked and jerked, kicking backward as Peter kept his grip on her.
“Turo,” he growled, his mouth spraying saliva onto Hero’s face as he held her near. “Time to watch her die.”
“No!” Arturo clambered to his feet, barely able to stand now as Peter laughed. For a moment, time froze as Hero and Arturo stared at each other in desperation, then Arturo lurched towards them as Peter sunk his knife deep into Hero’s stomach. She didn’t even cry out—the breath from her lungs was pushed out as the blade sunk into her. No. No. This wasn’t going to happen. It didn’t end this way. Arturo’s beautiful, bloodied face was a mask of utter horror.
Despite her agony, Hero stamped on Peter’s toes as hard as she could muster, and he yelped in surprise, obviously expecting her to be laid low by the stabbing. His grip released slightly, just enough for her to slip from his reach. Then Arturo was on him, knocking Peter down. Hero stamped again, on Peter’s wrist this time, and he released the knife.
She scooped it from the floor, but her body was shutting down from the blood loss. She clutched at the wound with one hand, and lurched towards the fighting men, knife in hand.
As Hero reached them, Peter made the mistake of looking around at her. Arturo slammed his hand under Peter’s jaw, causing him to bite through his own tongue. In an agonized rage, Peter jerked back…and Hero drove the knife into his throat.
Peter stared at her in shock, blood gushing from his wound. Then one last breath seeped out of him, and he slumped to the floor, eyes staring.
Arturo kicked his body out of the way and went to Hero. She was coughing up blood, and he took her in his arms, barely conscious himself.
“No, please, hold on, cara mia…someone will come…someone will come…”
Hero gazed up at her husband and smiled. “I love you so much, Arturo Bachi. So, so much.”
Arturo’s tears were pouring down his cheeks, mixing with the blood. “This isn’t the way this ends.”
“Just…hold me until the end. Please.” Her voice was fading now, and her eyes closed.
“Hero…Hero….no, wake up, wake up…”
But she wouldn’t wake up, and Arturo knew it was over. He cradled her in his arms and closed his own eyes, praying that death would come for him soon.
Darkness fell…
Voices. Familiar and not-so-familiar. Help us. Help her…please…
“Turo…Turo? Open your eyes, son.”
Arturo opened his eyes to a bright, white room which made his vision scream with pain.
“That’s it, Turo. Good. You’re in the hospital, son.” He knew that voice. Philipo.
“Uncle?”
A rough-skinned hand took his. “It’s me. You’ve been unconscious for a week now. They had to operate. You had a brain bleed, son.”
Arturo didn’t care. “Hero…” Please don’t say she’s dead, please, please…
“Baby?”
Her voice made all the breath leave his body. “Hero?” Finally, his eyes focused as his love, the one true love of his life, leaned over him and kissed his parched lips.
“I’m here, baby. I’m not going anywhere.” She was pale, her dark hair in a messy ponytail, but she had never looked more beautiful.
“Are you okay? You were stabbed! I thought…”
“I was lucky; the knife missed my major arteries and organs.”
Philipo put his arm around Hero. “She’s lived up to her name, Turo. She crawled out of my kitchen to your car, found your cell phone, and called the police.”
Arturo, his hand seeking hers, squeezed it tightly. “I thought you were dead. You…there was so much blood.”
Hero nodded. “When I woke up, you were so deeply out, I knew I had to get help for us.” She smiled a little ruefully. “It took me a while. I kept passing out, but eventually, I got there.”
“You’re up and walking.” Arturo shook his head in amazement, then winced at the pain.
“You know me,” she said, smoothing his hair away from his face, smiling down at him. “Ain’t nuthin’ gonna keep me down.”
“Mio Dio, I love you, Hero Donati.”
She smiled. “Hero Bachi,” she said gently, and he grinned.
Philipo cleared his throat. “Ah, yes. I have something to say about that. You got married and didn’t invite me?”
Hero hugged the old man. “Don’t worry, when we’re both healed, we’ll have a big old meringue-fest at the Villa Claudia. My parents are here, too,” she told Arturo, then grimaced as Melly stepped into the room behind her. “And so is Melly. She makes sure I don’t exert myself too much.” Hero rolled her eyes.
Arturo chuckled softly. “I can’t wait to meet your parents.”
Hero bent down and kissed
him, and now he noticed that she moved gingerly, still recovering from her wounds. “Ti amo.”
“Ti amo, Hero. Listen…what happened to...?”
“The police are handling everything. It has turned into a little bit of an international incident. The Consulate is not happy with the Italian polizia, it’s safe to say. They’re still trying to figure out how Peter got his information and how he managed to get us into that situation.”
“He’s dead?”
Hero’s sweet face hardened. “Stone cold. Good riddance.”
“He killed Flavia?”
She nodded.
Arturo was amazed to see Imelda wrap her arms around Hero without any hesitation and hold her fiercely. “If Armley hadn’t killed George, I would have done it myself, for trying to force himself on my baby sister.”
Arturo blanched. “Did he—Hero—I—”
“No. Very close. But no.” She shook her head and leaned into her sister’s embrace.
Arturo sighed in relief, and Imelda reached out her free hand and took Arturo’s.
“So much damage, but we’re on the other side of it now. I will do everything in my power to make sure you’re both okay.”
Philipo twinkled at her. “I might be a little bit in love with you, Imelda Donati.”
Imelda grinned at him. “Right back at you, handsome.”
For a moment, Hero and Arturo looked at each other and grinned, and Imelda released her sister. “Come on, Phil, let’s go grab some coffee and leave these two alone for a while.”
Alone, Arturo patted the bed. “I’ll shift over…I need to hold you in my arms.”
Somewhat awkwardly, they managed to curl up in his hospital bed together. Hero nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck, kissing along his jawline. Arturo stroked his hand down to her abdomen, feeling the heavy dressings there. “Does it hurt?”
“The muscles do when I move, but they’ll heal. It’s not so bad, really. I got lucky.”
Arturo gave a mirthless laugh. “Lucky? I let him hurt you.”
Under Her Skin Page 14