Page 88 of Vendetta

“What?” I hid the irritation under an air of boredom.

“Francisco asked me to come get you.”

We hadn’t been gone that long. My father must be on edge.

“Yeah, we were just on our way back,” I lied.

Just as I turned to follow, a shooting pain like an ice pick stabbing through my skull staggered me. I slowed, falling into stride with Oliver. Under my breath, I asked. “What the fuck was that?”

He flashed me his screen showing a dead alpha on the floor at Rosa’s feet, and Lorenzo flailing around in front of her. She still had the gun, and I hoped that was enough to save her. “Good.”

The pain I could tolerate. But losing her was not an option.

We filed back into the dining room where my father was finishing the last of the filet on his plate.

“Glad you decided to rejoin us. Cruz is an incredible conversationalist. Such a wide vocabulary, it’s astounding,” he drawled sarcastically. “Really, he picked the wrong line of work. He could’ve made a killing as a public speaker. But I prefer my dinner conversation a bit more lively.” He chuckled to himself, dabbing his lips, before setting his napkin down.

Knowing Cruz, he hadn’t said a single word. He would happily sit, only speaking when he had someone worth talking to. My father was never that.

“You called us back?” I asked, not bothering to address his sarcastic comment about my packmate.

“Yes, that. I wanted to let you know that I have someone bringing your girlfriend here, since you refused to do it. Make yourself comfortable, but don’t think about leaving. You can’t.” He pushed his chair back and stood.

Rage simmered in my veins. While we’d been talking, armed guards had taken up posts by the doors. Fucking fabulous. We could shoot our way out, but with heavily armed, well-equipped guards, it wouldn’t be pretty.

At the moment, there was no reason to try to leave until we figured out what was happening with Rosa. So I’d agree for now.

“We’ll be in our rooms,” I said, and my pack followed me out with the additional guards straggling in our wake.

Chapter 56

Rosalina

Ithrew the shirt on over my bloody and bruised body. “Fuck, Diego,” I cursed, and he turned his attention to me. “How many alphas are in Lorenzo’s pack?” I didn’t wait for him to answer as I ran back to the array of weapons and grabbed the taser.

He looked from me to the bodies on the floor to the machete in my hand, still dripping with blood. “Five, including him. Rosa, what did you do?”

“I did what had to be done.” I tossed him the pistol—he was a better shot than I was anyway—and hurried over to the cells. “Is there anyone in here?” I raised my voice so that it would carry down the hall.

“It’s just me and your father left. They killed Javier two days after you went missing when Maria tried to smuggle a key into our breakfast.” Diego’s voice faltered, but he covered it with a cough. He wouldn’t meet my eyes as he checked the magazine and grabbed a couple of other things off the wall of torture devices. The slight catch in his voice was the only indication of how he felt about losing one of the last remaining members of his pack to this coup.

If I wasn’t hyped up on adrenaline, my heart would have bled for him. That would have to wait, though. I unlocked the cell next to Diego’s and threw the door open. My father was curled on the cold concrete floor in the tattered remains of a suit.

“Daddy?” I choked on the word before kneeling at his side. “Dad?” I shook his shoulder, and he groaned.

Purple and green bruises littered his battered face, but when his coal-dark eyes opened, he smiled through bloody teeth. “Rosa, my girl.” He choked on a cough. “I’m so sorry for everything.”

“There’s no time for that right now. There’s half a pack of pissed-off alphas that are going to be here any second. You have to get up,” I said, pulling him up into a sitting position.

He heaved himself to his feet, grimacing and staggering for balance. “You were the only thing that made getting out of bed worth it after they all died. I only stayed for you.”

My heart squeezed in my chest. Why couldn’t he have told me this literally any other day? These were the words I’d always wanted to hear. And now, when we were cornered in a cellar, about to be set upon by grief-stricken, frenzied alphas, he chose to tell me this now?

Insanity.

First, we had to deal with the enraged alphas about to charge through the door. Then we deal with the emotional train wreck of my life.

I hurried out of the cell, leaving my dad leaning against the wall. Once he got his bearings, he might be able to help. He knew this dungeon better than anyone. He’d back us up when he could.