“We have most of them. We can get the kids out now,” Commando told me, and we nodded at each other.
“How are we going to do it?” I asked him, and I saw Commando’s gaze drift to Valentina, but only for a moment, he was looking at me again.
“The boys and I can take care of it here; you can leave if you need to be somewhere else. Get her out of here?” Commando said, and I heard the knowing tone in his voice. He had no idea who Valentina was, but he had noticed the grip I had on her hand. He could tell that she meant something to me. If there was anyone, out of all my brothers who would understand, it was Commando. Not too long ago, he had to save Ava from captivity as well.
I tipped my head at him and then turned to Valentina.
“Let’s get you out of here,” I said to her, and she took in a deep breath.
We ran through the dimly lit warehouse, jumping over knocked out bodies and ducking every time we heard a bullet ringing in the air. I covered her head with my arms as I guided her out towards the open exit of the warehouse. I didn’t care about what was happening, even though coming here had been my plan and I should have been back there with my brothers, getting the kids out.
I would have been the first one to put my life at risk here, and I had, but now that I had seen Valentina, nothing else mattered but her safety.
We burst through the exit and into the night air. In the distance, I could hear the rumble of motorcycles. Some of the Black Skulls who had managed to escape were making a run for it.
“Where are we going to go, Jesus?” she asked me and I turned to her. We were both panting, both relieved to have made it out of there.
“To my place,” I said and still holding her hand, I led her towards my parked Harley. I only let her go when I had her seated safely on the back of my bike. I could sense her eyes on me, watching my every move.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” I heard her whisper in the dark as I took my place in front of her.
Chapter 6
Valentina
I was shaking like a leaf when Jesus opened the door to his apartment, and I stepped in. I was still in shock over everything that had happened. The kidnapping, being forced to watch those kids beating each other up…seeing Jesus again.
We had spoken very little since we left the warehouse. There were ten years of silence that we needed to overcome and I still couldn’t believe that it was actually him. That he had saved me from my captors.
Jesus switched on the lights of his apartment, and I looked around the place in awe. That skinny boy I used to know from ten years ago, who had nothing, not a penny to his name…now lived in his own place. It wasn’t a fancy place, in fact, it was quite sparse, but it was neat and clean and had everything in its place.
“Sit down, Valentina. We need to clean you up,” he said, and I whipped around to look at him again. We stared at each other in silence for a few moments. He looked different now, his bronze skin was tougher, and his body was buffed up. His hair looked healthy and long, and he had it tied in a ponytail. His chest was broad, stretching the thin material of his t-shirt, and with every step he took, I noticed the powerful muscles of his thighs. Jesus had come into himself. He had turned into a sexy piece of meat, and I did not doubt that he had a long queue of women drooling over him all the time.
I nodded my head quietly and sat down on his leather couch, and then he vanished somewhere into the house.
Where were we supposed to begin? How was I going to explain everything to him? In fact, he didn’t even seem curious. He had barely asked me any questions. It was as though his top priority had been to get me to safety.
When Jesus returned, he was carrying bandages, ointments, cotton balls and some band aids. He arranged everything on the coffee table in front of me, and then walked over to the kitchen cabinet and brought back a small bottle of vodka.
“This might sting, but we need to disinfect that gash on your jaw,” he said, and I stared at him as he knelt down in front of me.
This up close to him, I couldn’t drag my eyes away from him. I used to know this face so well, every inch of his body…and now, he was nothing more than a stranger to me. Just a ghost from my past.
I watched as he dabbed some of the vodka on a cotton ball and brought it close to my face.
“Ready?” he asked, in a softer gentle voice and I bit down on my lip. When the cotton ball touched my bruise, I felt a sudden sting, and I winced. Jesus’ free hand reached for my knee, and he squeezed it. His touch was warm and comforting, the kind of comfort I had missed all these years. I didn’t even know I needed it, but I did.
“Just a few seconds more,” he said and dabbed the cotton ball on some other scratches and bruises around my neck and shoulders. I stared at him as he did this, with rapt concentration, like I could have been anyone. Then he started cutting out pieces of the bandage and sticking it to the wounds.
“You might not like the way it looks, but just keep it on for a few days, just until the skin starts healing,” he told me, and I peered into his eyes.
“Can we talk about what’s happening?” I blurted ou
t, unable to stop myself before the words came out. He snapped his head up to look at me; his dark eyes were stormy and intense. I watched as he clenched his jaw and then straightened up.
“You told me you were kidnapped,” he said and turned away from me, closing the cap of the vodka bottle.
“And you, believe me, right?” I asked him, and Jesus took a few seconds before he nodded his head.