by Cm Hutton
“Get in the car.” I helped Lori Ann climb in the back seat of the black sedan and slid in beside her. Craig took the front passenger seat next to the driver.
“Let’s go! Now!” Craig yelled at the driver, and he took off. I was grateful we had a young, fit-looking driver that seemed to completely understand English. I’d originally pictured some little, old white-headed man, who could barely see over the steering as our driver. Don’t ask me why. I just did.
We were out the drive and headed back to the airport in seconds. I chanced a glance back and saw a tall, dark-haired schmuck in a fancy Italian suit running out the front door, waving his hands at us and making his way down the driveway. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he was yelling for his wife. But Lori Ann didn’t look back. She knew he was there. Instead, she carefully laid her head on my shoulder and sighed. I moved slightly so that I could wrap my arm around her shoulder and hold her close. “I’ve got you, Legs. You’re safe.”
“I know, Jace. Thank you. I couldn’t have made it another day. He would have killed me.” She whispered the last part, and I felt my heart stop beating in my chest. She was too strong a person to just carelessly say something so profound. That meant she believed it 100 percent, and I was suddenly filled with dread. What if I hadn’t come?
I closed my eyes, kissed the top of her head, and said, “I’ll always come for you, Legs. You’re my girl. Always have been.” I didn’t care how corny or crazy the words sounded. It was true, and she knew it…otherwise, she wouldn’t have called me to save her.
I felt Lori Ann’s body shake in my arms as she cried. I brushed my hand across her arm and through her hair, trying to calm her. Craig kept looking back at us every so often, and I could see the worry etched across his face. When I made eye contact with him, we spoke a silent language to each other.
“What the fuck did he do to her?”
“What are we going to do to him?”
“He won’t stop. He’ll come looking for her.”
“We have to get her back to the States. We can protect her there.”
“Agreed.”
“Hey, Legs, you have your passport, don’t you?”
She paused for a moment, causing Craig and I to look at each other and panic. “Yes. It’s in my suitcase, though. Craig, you got it, didn’t you?”
“Yes, babe. I did. It’s right up here with me.” He lifted the bag for us to see, and I glared at my friend for daring to call Lori Ann “babe” in front of me. She didn’t seem to skip a beat at the term, though.
Craig obviously caught my stare, but he just smirked and raised an eyebrow. Bastard. He knew I wouldn’t like it, but one thing Craig never was, was scared of me. He could match me toe to toe, fist to fist in any fight and truthfully, I didn’t know who would win. We were both hot-headed, macho adrenaline junkies who were right in our element when we served in the Army together.
The sound of a phone buzzing caused all three of us to freeze for a second before we all started scrambling to see which of our phones was going off. I already knew.
“Lori Ann, if that’s him, don’t answer it. Got it?” I tried to sound calm, but I was anything but calm. Even the fact of having her right beside me, keeping her safe, didn’t diminish the huge task of getting us all out of the country in one piece. I had no idea what kind of connections the dude might have that could easily stop us.
I watched her face closely, reading her reaction to the name and number dancing across her phone. She blinked slowly, took a breath, and hit “ignore” on the screen. “It was him.” A single tear escaped Lori Ann’s eye before she put her phone away and laid her head back on the car seat.
“You okay?” I asked.
“No.” She didn’t look at me…didn’t open her eyes. She just let a few more tears drain down her face as we continued toward the airport.
“Jace?” I snapped my head toward Craig at the sound of his concerned voice.
“Yeah?”
“Are you sure we can catch a flight back right away? I’m looking here, and we might have to wait until morning to fly out.”
“Keep trying, man. We don’t need to stay here even one more minute longer than necessary.”
“Sure thing.” Craig turned back around in his chair and continued the search on his phone. I peeked at Lori Ann to see her reaction, but she hadn’t moved. Her stillness and silence were unnerving. I couldn’t tell what was going through her mind.
“Hey,” I said as I touched her arm. She flinched and jerked her head up off the seat to look at me. I kept my arm where it was, but saw fear flash through her eyes for a split second before her brain registered it was me touching her. “Talk to me.”
“I just want to get away from here, that’s all.” She was lying. Or at least telling a half-truth.
The telltale sign of a text coming through on her phone had Lori Ann reaching into her purse to see who had messaged her. I held my breath and watched her face again.
“It’s Antonio. I didn’t think one call would be all I would get. This is just the beginning, Jason. You have no idea.” With a slight shake of her head, she stared into her lap and tossed me the phone.
Antonio: WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON? You will return if you know what’s good for you. Who are you with? Were those men I saw you leaving with? You know better than to not answer when I call, amore mio. My love. Don’t make me remind you again. I will find you.
I fought like hell not to tell the driver to turn around so Craig and I could have a little chat with The Italian. This sick, twisted thrill passed through my body at the thought of tearing his body apart. Craig was looking back at me, watching my face. When I made eye contact, his eyebrows shot up and a smirk crossed his lips. He knew exactly what I was thinking.
I handed Lori Ann’s phone to him and waited until he finished reading the text. I heard him growl the word “fuck” right before he handed me back the phone. We just stared at each other having one of our silent conversations.
“If she weren’t in this car, we’d be turning around.”
“You’re damn right, Craig.”
“Let me have the first hit.”
“Nope.” My head shook slightly. “But you can have the second.”
“He’s a dead man.”
“Agreed.”
I waited another minute before I spoke out loud. I needed to control the anger that was seeping out of every pore of my body. “I’m not going to ask you to explain what all of that meant right now. I know a threat when I see one. But you will tell me soon. I needed to know what kind of bastard we’re dealing with, Legs.”
Lori Ann didn’t say a word. She just nodded her head, then slowly leaned her body toward mine and rested her head on my shoulder. I didn’t miss the fact that the movement caused her physical pain. It was all over her beautiful face. Right before her head touched my shoulder, I lifted my arm and wrapped it around her, pulling her closer. I kissed the top of her soft brown hair and whispered, “You’re safe now. I’m here.”
I felt Lori Ann’s body shake as she let the tears fall. I hated it. This wasn’t my strong, independent friend I’d known most of my life. She was broken, and the bastard that did it to her still believed she was his. No. Fucking. Way.
He’d never lay eyes or anything else on my Lori Ann again. That was for sure.
Chapter 4
Lori Ann
I couldn’t believe it. Jason London was standing at my door, along with our dear friend Craig, and they had come to get me…to save me.
*****
The broken arm, cracked ribs, and bruises were it. I had to get away before I ended up dead.
Antonio DiSabatino was wonderful when we first met. He was tall, about 6 feet, two inches with hazel eyes and dark brown hair that was sprinkled with a bit of gray. It made him seem authoritative and sexy. His voice was deep, and when he spoke English with his Italian accent, my whole body tingled. I loved his strong personality and commanding presence. I thought we were a good ma
tch seeing as how I had a similar temperament. That was until something changed in my husband and our healthy clashes of opinion became violent.
The first time was a little over a year ago…when Antonio had gotten really pissed over a playful text between me and Jason, so I stopped talking to my very best friend, the one who’d been through every up and down of my life, hoping to satisfy his need “keep me.” But my husband’s jealousy worsened. Every little thing I did set him off.
It started with yelling, then degrading, then he pushed me one night in our bedroom after our heated argument over the text with Jason. Granted, I’d slapped him for calling me a whore, but he pushed hard enough that my body flew backwards, hitting a wall and leaving a huge knot on my skull, causing a concussion.
When he immediately knelt beside me and apologized with tears in his eyes, I felt bad for the whole incident. Things had changed between me and my Italian lover husband. He was different.
Antonio didn’t know I took myself to the doctor the next day when the headache and dizziness wouldn’t subside. Knowing there was a medical record to go with my injury would have been catastrophic. I had to go searching for answers for my husband’s erratic, explosive behavior. It just wasn’t like him at all.
It took six months, a very expensive private investigator from a remote area of Italy—one who didn’t have personal ties to Antonio and his family—and lots and lots of secret observation by me to find the proof I needed. Not only was he was into some deep shit with a few ruthless people, but he was fucking one of the twenty-something daughters of one of the men he was in “business” with. It made me physically sick, and I was ready to escape…I had to get away. I just couldn’t believe my life had turned into a dammed movie. So, I started stockpiling money here and there, but when Antonio spotted a few transactions on our bank account, ones I thought I’d made on my own account—stupid mistake—he questioned me, and I let my rage take over and blurted out everything I knew…well, almost everything I knew.
I accused him of having an affair, and he fucking lost it. One thing I knew for sure; you don’t ever tell an Italian man that he’s wrong—about anything. I’d never seen him so enraged. It was almost comical. I knew without a doubt he was fucking that girl. Yet, I couldn’t show him the proof because it would blow the whole P.I. thing apart, and I wanted even more proof about the people he was dealing with. I needed it. My gut told me to hold tight to any and all leverage I compiled against Antonio.
So, I argued back, throwing the accusations at him until he completely flipped out and beat the holy shit out of me. I remember being completely shocked that my husband of six years, whom I loved so dearly for most of that time, was beating the living hell out of me. He wanted to hurt me. Would stop at nothing in order to force me to submit to his version of the truth. And he didn’t stop until I begged for my life. I told him over and over how wrong I was…that he was right. It was my mistake. No…I didn’t give in. I didn’t believe his shit. I simply did what I had to do to live. I saw his black, dead eyes. He would have kept beating me until I stopped moving, stopped breathing. The demons driving his decisions for that last year were fully in control of my well-being that night, and had he killed me, no one would have ever found my body. I knew it, and all I could think about was Jason. How he would never know what happened to me. How he would have felt abandoned, alone. I had to live for him…and me.
My pleas worked, and Antonio stopped. He left me there on the floor with a broken arm, ribs cracked from his fancy Italian shoes kicking me over and over, and bruises on my face, arms, and legs. I didn’t even call for help. I was so scared that I barely felt the pain wracking my body. I had to get help. He could’ve come back at any moment and finished me off.
I managed to get my broken body to a neighbor’s house for help, but swore him to secrecy over the incident even though he wanted to kill Antonio. I almost called Jason again that night. My call a few weeks before, with the excuse of checking on Derek, wasn’t fully altruistic. Yes, I was worried about Jason’s brother, but truthfully, things were escalating between Antonio and me, and Jason was my safety. Just hearing his voice calmed me. I was so worried when days went by without a word from my friend.
Antonio stayed away for two days, then came back and acted as if nothing was wrong. It scared the hell out of me. He didn’t even acknowledge the cast on my arm or the slow movement I made as I walked throughout the house. All I could think about was how void he was of any emotion over what he’d done to me. He wouldn’t stop the next time. I was sure.
Enough was enough. I had to get myself out. That was the night Jason had called me back, and I fell to my knees thanking God for the miracle of my best friend. I had to cut our call short because Antonio was home, and if he’d walked in on me taking to Jason…well, I didn’t want to think about what would’ve happened. I was so weak as it was. I don’t think I could have put up much of a fight. Thinking back on a few things, I don’t believe Antonio was jealous of Jason. His mind was riddled with the guilt of what he was doing, and he projected that on anything I did or didn’t do.
By the next morning when he called again, I was scared out of my mind as I quickly and quietly planned my escape. Antonio’s calm demeanor could only mean something bad. Maybe he was planning something, like getting rid of his wife. He didn’t seem at all concerned about anyone asking questions about my injuries, after all.
*****
I let Jason just hold me as the stress of the last few days overwhelmed me and I cried. I could feel how tense he was and see the worry in both his and Craig’s eyes about my injuries and our tricky departure from Italy. It was true that Antonio’s arms stretched far and wide across a large portion of the country. We just needed to get on a plane as soon as possible and back to the States.
“Jace, what will we do if we can’t get on a flight today?” I didn’t lift my head.
Jason’s hand rubbed up and down the small portion of my left arm not covered in a cast as he held me firmly, but gently so he didn’t cause any more hurt to my broken body. Then, kissing the top of my head, he said, “We’ll keep you safe, baby. If we have to find a place to sleep tonight, we will, but Craig and I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“Damn straight,” Craig said from the front seat, making me smile.
“Craig?”
“Yeah?” he asked, turning around to look at me from the front seat.
“I’m glad you’re here, too. Thank you.”
“It was never a question, Lori Ann. When my man here called and told me his gut told him you were in trouble…well, I wasn’t about to leave him to get himself in all kinds of trouble.” He winked at me and I started to laugh, but stopped.
“Shit! Don’t make me laugh, Craig. It hurts too much.”
Jason muttered a low growl, and Craig winced. “Sorry. I’ll try to be less funny.”
I smiled and shook my head. He was trying to lessen the tension we were all feeling.
“Any luck finding a flight?” Jason asked Craig.
“Still working on it. I think we can fly the red-eye late tonight, but we are going to need to hole up somewhere in the meantime. Let me check some of the hotels around the airport…although that’s the first place that bastard would look if he comes after her.”
I gasped.
“Shit! Come on, man!” Jace cursed and pulled me a bit tighter. “Can you keep those thoughts trapped in your brain and not spew them out?”
“I’m sorry, Lori Ann. But Jason, you know I’m only saying out loud what we are all thinking. We can’t tiptoe around the seriousness of this situation.” He paused, then looked at Lori Ann. “How likely will he come looking for you…honestly?” I felt sick, but Craig was right. We couldn’t ignore Antonio and certainly couldn’t underestimate him.
I sat up straight, wincing as my sore muscles and ribs screamed out at me. “He’ll come. There’s no doubt about it. He may not do it right away, but he will search for me. He’s a hot-blooded, possessive, e
gotistical Italian male. No one takes what’s his…and no one leaves him and causes embarrassment to his family. He made that pretty clear in our…um, recent conversations.” I waved my good arm in front of my body at all my injuries.
“What the hell happened? I know you. You would never have stayed six years with a man like that. Is this recent?” Jason was so angry, maybe even a little at me. Tears welled up in my eyes. “Hey, I didn’t mean it to sound like that. I can see the look in your eyes, Legs. You know this is not your fault, right?”
“Yes, that is one thing I know. But it doesn’t make it any easier that I stayed as long as I did.” I wiped my eyes and continued. “No, he wasn’t like this until about a year ago.”
“WHAT?!?” Both Jason and Craig screamed the word at me.
“Stop, please. Just listen. I don’t have the energy to fight with you guys too.” I heard both of my friends take a deep, calming breath. I turned slightly in my seat and cupped Jason’s face with my right hand. “I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. The first time, it was…”
“When?” Jason asked, his body tense, but his eyes were soft and sad as he stared at me.
I took a breath and placed my hand on his leg, feeling him twitch, then relax. “Well, it had to do with you and one of our many hours-long texting chats. I don’t remember exactly what we were talking about, but he flipped out about our friendship and called me a whore. I slapped him, he pushed me, and things got out of hand.”
“You didn’t answer my question. When was that?”
I hesitated before finally answering. “About a year ago.”
His eyebrows raised slightly. “Then, I know exactly what conversation it was because that was the last time I heard from you until your call a few weeks ago.” I remembered too. I just didn’t want to talk about it in front of Craig.
We sat in silence for a few minutes, just staring at each other. I knew Jason was searching my eyes to see if I was telling the whole truth, and except for fibbing about the memory of our talk from that night, I was completely truthful. A slight smile curled on his lips, telling me he knew I hadn’t forgotten. I closed my eyes and leaned against his shoulder as I finished my story.