Tangled In Strings

Chapter Thirty-Three

I'm not sure what's more terrifying.

The fact that the sound of gunfire stops, and no one's sure who's a threat anymore...or that the frightened crowds have all swarmed for the doors, making it an impossible feat to actually get out.

No, the most horrifying part of all of this is that I know who is behind this.

Dixon. This has to be Dixon.

Sometime, the hands that were holding me have to let go, and I feel the weight of the people surrounding me. They all begin to feel much taller, despite my usual height. I'm painstakingly aware of my condition, and how much Giovanni would reprimand me for trying to fight my way back into danger to get to him. People are shouting at each other in their fear, wanting to be clear of these murderous walls. The doors don't accommodate swift exits.

As someone puts their hands on my back, urging me into the person in front of me, my head turns, scanning the crowds in desperation, trying to get sight of Giovanni. He's tall. I'd see him in seconds...

He's not there.

Shrinking, finding that I can no longer scream, I begin to truly panic. It's so overwhelming that the people behind me are literally forcing me to move.

Dixon would have gone for him. Without a doubt, Dixon would have gone for my heart.

Tears come, strangely enough, not from my fear, but, from shock. From the incessant drumming in my ears, the rush of blood beneath my skin that nearly hurts. It's hard to breathe, and that is enough to send my thoughts into darkness.

This is it.

This is the moment Dixon truly wields his power over me, shows me his strength. In all the years I've known him, he's never been this terrifying. In this moment, Dixon has truly lost himself.

I don't know what he plans, but I know he's unlikely to get out of this unscathed, which means all of us are in more danger than we could possibly know.

"Giovanni," I whisper, having expected it would come out a scream. My hands move to my stomach, flattening against the skin that's being kicked forcefully, the child reacting off my own panic.

Is he hurt? Is he dead?

My wheezing stops, completely and altogether, when an arm wraps around my back, and a hand grabs hold of my waist. My eyes bugger open, and my face turns, just as I feel something cold and hard against my side, right at the edge of my stomach.

Dixon, dressed head to toe in a freshly ironed police uniform, is pressed up right behind me, a gun digging into my waist. My mouth parts, my breath catching in an effort to scream, but the second his mouth slims, his eyes daring me to try, I shut it again.

"You're going to come with me," he whispers menacingly in my ear, "and if you don't come quietly, I won't hesitate, Scarlett. I'm all in here. Don't fucking test me."

Finding the same unhinged look in his eyes that I normally would when he'd be incoherently drunk, I nod, gasping when he begins to pull me from the crowd.

Except tonight, he's not drunk, which makes him more terrifying.

Brilliantly, he wore his uniform, so, no one questions the gun in his hand, or the fact that he's pulling a pregnant woman from the mess. I know if I screamed, people would rush to help, but his gun is too close, and I'm too afraid to risk it. He knows this baby is Giovanni's.

He's behind me, leading me toward a tall staircase, and I hesitate at the bottom, partly because we're now out of sight of everyone else, and partly because my legs can hardly function. I'm reminded that I don't have a choice when he pushes me forward and to avoid tripping, I take a step, and then another.