He was right on my ass, tugging on my foot to pull me back. Struggling to break free, I kicked him in the face.
“Bitch,” he groaned, staggering backward.
I attempted to stand, fear rocking me to the core. He had me right where he wanted me and smirked, satisfied with the outcome. Swinging my fists at his face, I hit him with everything I had left. The jerk clutched my wrists, maintaining a firm grip, and breathed cigars in my face. He was maybe forty or so, with dark hair and a gnarly scar the ran down the length of his right cheek.
He was the kind of man who had my father as an enemy. The type of guy who would kill me if I didn’t find a way to escape. And then two shadowy figures emerged from the darkness of the backyard. I wasn’t sure if I should be afraid or relieved until I saw Marcello Salvatore and Aiden Wellington rush toward my captor.
My white knight was here to save the day.
Chapter Fifteen
Marcello
A woman’s screams carried with the wind. Without a second thought, I took off in her direction. It sounded like she was somewhere near the Feltons mansion. Victor Felton was a mean son of a bitch who had gotten me into a lot of trouble with my father when I was young and rebellious. But he wasn’t nearly as frightening as my dad. No one was as terrifying as Arlo Salvatore.
“Help,” the woman yelled again, this time her voice was clearer and much closer than before.
“This way,” I told Aiden, dragging him down the dark street, the walkway illuminated by the exterior lights.
We ran across the Feltons’ backyard, following the sound of her voice. I leaped over the beach chairs blocking my path. Aiden was on my heels, at my side by the time we reached the stone half-wall that separated the hilltop garden from the pool area.
A girl swung her purse at a man around my height and build. His back faced me, and I couldn’t make out his features. He lifted her from the wall, throwing her on the ground with a frustrated groan. She scrambled to her feet, ready to fight, and he slammed her back into the stone. Her shrill screams penetrated the air, sending a chill down my arms.
“Get your fucking hands off her,” I shouted.
He gripped the collar of her shirt and whispered something into her ear. Then he released her, dropping her onto the ground before he attempted to hop onto the wall. I grabbed him from behind, yanking him back into my chest. He wasn’t from Beacon Bay or Devil’s Creek. In fact, I’d never seen him in my life.
When the woman moved into the moonlight, I let out a deep breath. I wanted to scold Rhi for hanging around with assholes like this guy, but I wasn’t sure what business he had with her. Connor O’Shea had taken a lot of fire from rival families while she was living in Europe. He only let her stay there because to bring her back would have put her life in danger.
She pressed a hand to her chest and sucked in a few deep breaths. “Marcello, I’ve never been so happy to see you.”
I held the man up by his collar. “Do you know him?”
He swatted at my arm, and Aiden moved to my side to restrain him.
Rhi shook her head. “Never seen him. My driver wasn’t outside when I left work, so I walked home. He followed me from The Ink Yard.”
I wrapped my hand firmly around his throat, squeezing hard enough to cut off his air but not so much that he couldn’t speak. “Who do you work for?”
“Fuck you,” he bit out.
“Check his pockets,” Rhi suggested with the tip of her head. “See where he’s from.”
As Aiden held him, I removed the leather wallet from his pocket and flipped it open to inspect his license. Michael McDougal from Boston, Massachusetts.
I lifted a curious eyebrow as my gaze fell on Rhi. “Your family has allies in Boston, right?”
She nodded. “The Donnellys.”
“Do you work for the Donnellys?” I asked him.
He pursed his lips. “Fuck you and the Donnellys.”
I reached into my bag and plucked two zipties from the inner pocket. In my line of work, I never knew when I would need them. Over the years, I had restrained and tortured dozens of men to protect my family and the Knights. With Aiden’s help, I bound Michael’s hands and dropped him to the grass. He tried to get up, but I slammed my Ferragamo boot down on his stomach.
Releasing a groan, he rolled onto his side. “You’ll pay for that, motherfucker.”
I laughed. “No, I won’t.”
I approached Rhi, and she took a few steps back toward the half-wall. Annoyed with her behavior, I shook my head.