“I can’t believe you have to go in today.” I draw circles over Rex’s chest with the tip of my finger. “It’s Sunday.”
Yesterday was perfect. I watched my best friend marry the love of her life, and after a round of hot sex against the side of the building, Rex brought me back to his place where he proceeded to slow the pace down a few notches, and we made love in his bed with the windows open while a cool breeze danced across our skin. The night couldn’t have been more perfect, and then my subconscious had to go and ruin it with another horrible nightmare. I’m convinced it’s a memory I can’t seem to get a grasp on. Maybe that means it’s coming to the surface, but it wasn’t the way I wanted to wake up.
Rex, however, knew the perfect way to calm my restless soul. With his body pressed against mine and whispered promises to always keep me safe, he made love to me again, stealing the remaining pieces of my heart.
“The club doesn’t shut down just because it’s Sunday.”
“I know.”
“I won’t be long.” Kissing my knuckles, he slips out of bed and throws on a T-shirt and black jeans. He shoves his wallet in his back pocket and leans down for one more kiss.
“Go back to sleep, sweetheart.”
“I’m not sure I can.”
“Try.” He kisses my nose, and a second later he’s out the door.
Pulling the covers up to my chin, I burrow myself against Rex’s pillows, losing myself in his intoxicating scent. My eyes drift shut as I replay every moment I’ve had with him, wondering if it’s all been a dream. If it is, I hope I never wake up.
He seems too good to be true.
This life I’m living seems too good to be true.
The cautious girl inside of me screams that I need to be careful, that it’s all going to come tumbling down around me like everything else always has, but I’ve gotten good at ignoring her—which is what I choose to do now.
Negativity has always been part of my life, and maybe, just this once, I can allow myself to hope and dream and believe I’m worthy of this level of happiness.
My phone chirps on the nightstand, and when I reach for it, I notice Rex’s still connected to the charger.
Shit. He might need it.
I swipe my finger across my phone and smile at the text waiting for me.
Erin: OMG I’m Mrs. Jacob Coletti
Me: That sounds SO weird
Erin: I KNOW
Smiling, I crawl out of bed, throw on a pair of shorts and a hoodie, toss both phones in my purse, and head downstairs.
“Good morning, Miss Black.”
“Morning,” I say, smiling at Sam. “Rex left his phone, and I’m afraid he might need it for work, so I’m going to run it to him really quick.”
“Let me grab you a cab.”
Sam works his magic, and before I know it I’m being driven across town. Rex’s car is normally parked in the back of the club, but this morning, as we approach I notice it’s parked in front of Vault, right behind a sleek, black BMW, which I assume is Dante’s.
I pay the cab driver and hope they left the front door unlocked. If they didn’t, I’ll have to get into Rex’s phone to find Dante’s number and call them. I really don’t want to get into his phone. I pull on the handle and breathe a sigh of relief when the door opens. There’s a light on above the bar, but the rest of the room is dark. Light shines from the hall where their offices are, and I walk that way.
Not wanting to interrupt a meeting, I tiptoe toward Rex’s door, intent on just peeking my head in enough to hand him his phone. Only I don’t make it that far because what I hear him saying stops me cold.
“I found her.”
Rex sounds surprised and excited and—who could he possibly be talking about?
“Found who?” Dante asks.
I inch closer to the door, which is cracked open, only Dante’s broad back obstructs any sort of view.
“Bianca.”
I gasp, covering my mouth.
No. There’s no way I heard him right.
Why on Earth would Rex and Dante be talking about Bianca—about me?
It must be a mistake.
My vision goes dark around the edges as I hold my breath and wait for Rex to answer.
“What?” Dante takes a step forward, and so do I. “How? How did you find her? Where is she?”
“You mean who is she. It’s Shae. Shae is Bianca DiMarco.”
I try to suck in a breath, but my chest is too heavy, and my vision clouds even further. My legs go numb, and I reach for the wall to keep from falling over.
“What?” Dante laughs humorlessly, shaking his head. “No fucking way. What makes you think Shae is Bianca?”
“I know it seems like a long shot, but the pieces fit.”
Oh, God. What pieces, Rex? And why were you looking for me?
My head starts to spin with a million possibilities, but one sticks out above the rest.
Rex’s dad is a mafia boss. Is it possible he’s responsible for killing my father? Why else would Rex be looking for Bianca? My gut twists, and I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to regain some sort of composure as they continue talking.
“What fucking pieces?” Dante yells.
“Do you remember Dad telling us Luca’s wife died?”
“Yes.”
“Shae told me she lost her mom when she was seven and then her dad when she was nine.”
“So? That doesn’t mean shit.”
“Yes, it does. The ages match up, but that’s not all. She’s been having nightmares. A couple of times I swore I heard her yell out Cami’s name. At first I thought my ears were playing tricks on me, but it happened again last night, and I know I heard her right. I’m telling you, Dante, Shae is Bianca. I know it. I can feel it. You weren’t with me when I let her go that day. You didn’t see the fear in her eyes, but I did, and it has haunted my dreams. I saw that same fear this morning when she woke up from her nightmare.”
Oh, God, I can’t breathe.
The world around me shakes, there’s a sharp ringing in my ears, and the darkened edges of my vision close in until my world goes black, and I’m transported to a place and time I’ve been desperately trying to remember…
…Daddy’s fingers dig into my skin, his grip around my upper arm tightening as he drags Camilla and me through the house. It hurts bad, but I don’t make a sound. It’s a lesson I learned early on: whining will inevitably result in a butt whipping, and I hate having my butt whipped.
“Stay here,” he demands, shoving us into Cami’s room.
I stand frozen as Daddy rushes down the hall and disappears around the corner before returning several seconds later.
He kneels in front of Cami and hands her a black gun. “Remember what I taught you?”
My eyes widen, but Cami doesn’t flinch. She simply blinks as though this is something she saw coming.
“Yes sir,” she says. Taking the gun, she does a series of things that mean absolutely nothing to me, and then she looks up.
“Good girl,” Daddy says. “And don’t forget to take the safety off.”
Cami nods, and he smiles approvingly, patting her cheek before turning his attention to me.
“You listen to your sister, got it?” His voice is stern, which isn’t foreign to me considering I’m the bad sister—first to get in trouble, last to apologize, and according to my dad, the sole reason for his salt-and-pepper hair. But this time it’s different. This time there’s an underlying tone that speaks of danger and begs cooperation.
“Yes, sir,” I whisper, failing to hide the tremble in my bottom lip.
Cupping my face in his hands, Daddy looks me in the eyes. “You’re my little princess, yeah?” I try to nod, but his hands are holding me captive. “You’re Bianca DiMarco, and DiMarcos are strong. Don’t ever forget that.”
He kisses me, kisses Cami, and in the blink of an eye, he’s gone.
The soft click of the door latching behind him echoes through the room, bathing us in a deafening silence. Cami stands frozen, her big, brown eyes glued to the gun clenched in her hand. I wait for her to burst into tears, because that’s who she is. She’s the cautious one, the sweet to my sass, quiet to my loud. So when she finally looks up at me, shoulders squared and eyes shining with determination, I’m a little nervous.
“Are you scared?” she asks softly.
I shake my head, and the corner of her mouth tilts upward.
“You need to practice that,” she says, brushing against me as she walks across the room.
“Practice what?” I say, following behind her.
She stops in front of the blinds, peeking outside before glancing over her shoulder.
“Lying. You suck at lying.”
“Do not.”
“Do too. You clench your jaw. It’s your tell.”
“Whatever.”
I step toward the window, and Cami scoots over, giving me enough room to look out. Daddy—aka Luca DiMarco—is a bear of a man. Six foot, two hundred and seventy-five pounds of pure muscle, he towers over most. But not today. Today he’s going head to head in our front yard with a man who’s easily a couple of inches taller and has biceps bigger than my head. They’re both yelling, their arms waving erratically in the air.
“Who is that?” I whisper.
Cami’s answer doesn’t come as quickly as I’d expect. I look up in time to see her pull her bottom lip between her teeth. She worries it back and forth several times before releasing it.
“I don’t know.” She shrugs.
I’m tempted to tell her she’s the one who sucks at lying, but that would be sassy, and my dad says I need to work on not being so sassy. Instead, I look out the window, and all the air rushes from my lungs.
Papa!
I stand frozen, watching in horror as the man pushes a gun against Daddy’s forehead. Through gritted teeth, Daddy says something that causes the man’s jaw to clench tight, and even from the window, I feel the energy in the air shift.
Lowering the gun, the stranger pumps two rounds into the ground at Daddy’s feet before shoving the muzzle under his chin.
“No!” Spinning around, I bolt out of the room, ignoring Cami’s pleas for me to stop. Her nails scrape my arm when she manages to catch me, but I rip free.
“Bianca, no!” she yells, chasing after me.
Adrenaline pumps through my veins, my heart nearly pounding out of my chest. Running through the house, I skid to a stop in the foyer just as two loud pops ring through the air. I yank open the front door, and my entire world tilts on its axis.
“Oh, God.”
A bloodcurdling scream pierces my ears, pushing me into motion. Sprinting across the yard, I drop to my knees at Daddy’s side, landing in a pool of blood. Daddy is lying on the ground, his body limp and eyes lifeless.
“Daddy.” My fingers shake as I cradle his pale face in my hands. “Please, Daddy.” His head lolls to the side, and a stream of blood trickles out of his mouth, down his cheek, and over my knuckles. My stomach rolls. “Please wake up,” I cry. “You can’t leave me.” I shake my head, tears streaming down my face. “You’re Luca DiMarco,” I whisper. “And DiMarcos are strong. Isn’t that what you told me?” My throat grows thick as I struggle to get the words out. “Plea—”
The distinct sound of a gun being cocked cuts me off. I look up, everything around me blurred by tears. Cami is standing a couple of feet away, her gun drawn and pointed directly at the stranger—scratch that, monster—who just killed my father.
“Shoot her,” Cami warns, “and I will put a bullet between your eyes.”
I’ve never seen Cami like this, and I wonder what in the world I’m missing, because I’m definitely missing something. Her hand is steady as her finger rests on the trigger. Lips drawn tight, eyes focused, she doesn’t waiver. I whisper her name, mostly out of fear and confusion, but she doesn’t spare me a glance.
“This isn’t a game.”
My eyes move to the monster. His gun is trained on me, but he’s staring daggers at Cami.
“Put the gun down, and neither one of you will get hurt.”
“I’m not naïve, Mr. Ambrosi—or should I call you Sal?” she says, tilting her head to the side. “You have no intention of letting either of us walk away. I may be young, and I may be a girl, but don’t underestimate what I’m capable of. My dad taught me, and he taught me well. You shoot her, and I’ll put a bullet right between your beady little eyes.”
Mr. Ambrosi, or Sal, or whatever his name is, busts out laughing. Without lowering his gun, he uses his free hand to grab a hanky out of his pocket. He runs the white cloth over his forehead, stuffs it back in his pocket, and then his beady little eyes find me.
“You sure are a pretty thing.” He all but croons the words, and bile rushes up my throat. “I could get a pretty penny—”
“Shut your mouth,” Cami says, rushing forward. Mr. Ambrosi shoves his gun against the back of my head, causing me to wince, and Cami’s steps falter.
“Don’t fucking move,” he seethes, “or she dies.”
A sob rips from my throat, and I slap a hand over my mouth. Cami’s firm and unyielding eyes soften for a just a beat, as though she’s silently assuring me that everything will be okay.
“You’re wrong,” Cami says, shifting her attention back to Mr. Ambrosi, the hint of a smile playing on her lips. “She doesn’t die. Because if she dies, you die. Plus, I made a promise to my father that I intend to keep. So, I’ll ask you one more time to remove your gun from the back of her head.”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I wait for his reaction. The muzzle of his gun digs farther into my scalp. Tears seep past my lashes, dripping down my face as I begin to whisper The Lord’s Prayer.
“Our Father who art in heaven—”
Pop!
The sound echoes through my head, piercing my ears, but one thing manages to penetrate through.
One voice.
One word.
“Run!”
And I do. Without looking back, I listen to my big sister, and I run. Her voice cuts off, followed by yelling and muffled grunts, but even then I don’t turn around.
Someone is chasing me; I can hear feet pounding against the sidewalk. They’re getting closer, so I push harder. My short legs are running faster than they’ve ever run, and it isn’t until I step on something sharp that I realize I’m barefoot. Rocks and loose gravel are cutting into my skin, but the pain doesn’t stop me.
“Keep running,” I whisper, repeating those two words over and over in my head like a mantra.
“Faster, Bianca!” The sound of Cami’s voice startles me, and I glance back, shocked and relieved to see her catching up to me. But then two boys turn the corner behind her, and what little bit of relief I’d found disappears.
Cami pushes my arm, and I whirl back around just in time to jump over a gaping hole in the sidewalk. “They’re chasing us,” she pants. “Faster, Bianca. You’ve got to run faster.”
“What did you do?” I cry.
“I shot him in the knee. Run, Bianca!”
I knew when push came to shove she couldn’t take a man’s life, and I’m relieved because something like that would haunt Cami until day she died.
“I’m trying,” I cry, batting at the tears rolling down my face. “Wh-who’s chasing us?”
I glance over my shoulder one more time. There are two boys. The shorter one is gaining ground, but the taller, chunkier one is struggling to keep up. His fierce eyes lock on mine, daring me to try to get away. Fear prickles up my spine, but I don’t have much time to dwell on it. Cami grabs my arm, pulling me behind her as she weaves left through someone’s yard.
My lungs are on fire, my thighs screaming in pain. Every cell in my body is telling me to give up, telling me it’s too late, but all I hear is Cami.
“Come on, B. Don’t give up,” she encourages. “We just have to make it to Uncle Giovanni’s.”
“I won’t make it.”
“Yes, you will.” Her grip on my arm tightens.
For the first time since she caught up to me, Cami looks back, and in an instant, I’m shoved forward as she’s tackled to the ground. Holding out my hands, I try to stop my fall, but it’s no use, I smack face-first in a muddy patch of grass. My feet slip as I struggle to get up, desperate to help my sister. Rubbing the mud from my eyes, I find Cami thrashing under the shorter boy, bucking and kicking, trying to get free, but he’s too big. Her glossy eyes connect with mine.
“Run.” The word is garbled, almost choked out of her mouth, and my heart twists inside my chest. Just then the other boy runs around the corner, nearly toppling over the two bodies rolling around in the grass. His eyes lift to mine, and despite my body’s protest, I do the only thing left to do.
I run.
I run through the yard, around the corner, hoping and praying that if I make it to Giovanni’s fast enough, he can save Cami. I dodge left, hopping over a toy before cutting through a set of swings in someone’s backyard. The boy is still chasing me. I can hear him panting as he tries to catch up. But he won’t. I might not have been able to outrun the shorter one, but I can sure as heck out run this one.
“Almost there,” I breathe. Deciding to take a shortcut, I turn, only to smack directly into a wooden fence. When did they put this up? I know for a fact it wasn’t here before. Stumbling, I quickly regain my balance.
“No. Nononono,” I cry, running along the polished wood, hoping to find a gate. “Please. Pleasepleaseplease.” When I hit the corner, I drop to my knees, breathless.
There’s no way out.
My chin trembles. Fear, confusion, desperation, loss…my emotions swirl through me. Dropping my chin to my chest, I cry, my shoulders heaving as I sob.
The boy doesn’t make a sound, but I know he’s caught up to me. His scent, a mixture of sweat and surprisingly enough cigars, surrounds me, and I look up through watery eyes.
Shaking my head, I sit back on my haunches. “Please,” I beg. “Please don’t hurt me.”
Bending over, he places his hands on his knees. “I’m asthmatic,” he wheezes between ragged breaths. “I don’t run well.”
My eyes widen in shock. I’m not sure what I thought he was going to say, but it certainly wasn’t that. Just seconds ago, I was running from him—running for my life—and now I’m watching him struggle to breathe. I know that feeling all too well. Here, like this, with his labored breathing and the distinct discoloration of his lips, he looks a lot less menacing and much more vulnerable.
Reluctantly, I reach into my pocket, pulling out my inhaler. “Use this.”
Furrowing his brows, the boy looks at my hand. Weird sounds come from his chest, sounds I recognize because they’ve landed me in the emergency room on more than one occasion. Lifting my hand, I urge him to take it. Why? I have no idea. What I should be doing is running like the wind, using his weakened state to my advantage. I know I could get away now.
His brown eyes search my blue ones. “Why are you doing this?” he whispers, glancing over his shoulder as though he’s making sure no one is watching.
I shrug, wishing I had an answer for him, but I don’t. Probably I shouldn’t be helping him, considering his job is most likely to take me back to his…monster, where I’ll either be murdered or sold, but something swirls in his dark brown eyes, screaming for me to trust him.
“Just take it,” I tell him.
Grabbing it from my hand, he shakes the blue canister several times before taking a puff. Drawing the air in deep, he holds his breath for several seconds before letting it out and repeating the process.
“What’s your name?” he asks, his words coming much smoother now.
I clench my jaw, deciding how to answer. He was chasing me; shouldn’t he know my name? If he doesn’t, do I want him to know my name? A little voice in the back of my head tells me to lie, but I can’t, because images of my dad and Cami are flashing through my mind. I just helped this boy, so maybe he will help me.
“Bianca.”
Nodding, he hands my inhaler back to me and stands up to his full height as I scramble to my feet.
“Run, Bianca,” he says softly, leaning toward me. “And don’t come back. Go away. If you come back he will kill you—”
“Wait,” I interrupt, reaching for him.
He takes a quick step back as though I would hurt him, and my heart crumbles. He can’t leave now. Placing a hand over my heart, I plead with my eyes first, and then my words.
“What about Cami? Please. They have to let her go. You have to help her.”
Lowering his eyes, he shakes his head before looking up. “Cami who?”
Those two words are like a punch to the gut. I open my mouth to beg him not to hurt her, to beg him to somehow help me get to her, but I’m cut off by an unfamiliar voice.
“Rex?” The boy turns in the direction we came from. “You catch her?”
The boy—Rex—holds a finger to his lips, signaling for me to stay quiet before yelling out a response. “Sorry, Dante. I lost her,” he hollers, slowly backing away from me.
“Please. Don’t leave.” Lunging forward, I grab his arm. “Don’t hurt her. Let her go. Take me. Tell them to take me.”
“Go, Bianca.” Rex yanks his arm out of my grip, knocking me backward in the process. His eyes flash with regret, but it doesn’t last long because next thing I know he’s taking a menacing step toward me. He bends down until we’re inches apart. “Corri!” Run!
And I do. Just like my sister told me, I do.
I run.
…NO!
My eyes open, and the fourteen-year fog finally lifts, leaving me with a clear, ugly reality. It was Rex, my Rex chasing us that day.
And Dante.
Oh, God, it was Dante.
A sharp pain rips through my chest.
Our own brother tackled Cami to the ground.
This isn’t happening.
Did Dante kill her? Did he kill our sister?
And why the fuck didn’t Rex help her? He helped me, so he surely could’ve helped her.
I try to remind myself that Rex saved my life that day. He had me cornered. He easily could’ve called for someone, but he didn’t. He let me go. But white hot rage replaces all rational thought.
My fingers curl inward, my nails biting into my palms, drawing blood, but I don’t feel it because my body is numb. I dig harder, needing to feel something—anything—and then Rex’s voice filters through the air, drawing me back in.
“What are we going to do?”
I lift my eyes, watching the scene unfold in front of me as the dreaded words pass through Dante’s lips.
“I think you know what we have to do.”
I think you know what we have to do.
Does that mean they’re going to kill me? I’m the missing piece of the puzzle—the person who can link their father to a double murder. What else would they do with me?
My initial instinct is to run, but I’m so goddamn sick and tired of running.
I barge into the room. The door flies back, smacking the wall behind it and both men turn toward me.
“What the fuck?” Rex rushes toward me, but I hold up a hand.
If he gets any closer I’m not sure what I’ll do.
“How could you?” I yell. “Both of you!”
Dante and Rex smartly choose to keep their distance. Adrenaline rushes through my veins, and I’m not sure if I should be scared or pissed, or both.
“Shae, baby, I don’t know what you heard, but—”
“No!” I scream. “Don’t call me baby. Don’t you dare call me baby. You knew.”
His brows draw tight. “Yes, I know who you are. And I know why you didn’t tell me.”
“That’s not why I’m mad,” I growl, refusing to give him the chance to explain. He doesn’t deserve the chance to explain. “For fourteen years I’ve been trying to remember what happened that day, and this whole time you knew because you were there.” Emotion crawls up my throat, making it difficult to talk. “You chased us,” I cry, my eyes darting to Dante.
Dante shakes his head, his Adam’s apple bobbing heavily when he swallows.
“You watched your father murder my mine, and then you chased us so what?” I say, swiping at tears. “So you could take us to him? So he could kill us? Is that what you did with Cami? Or did you do it yourself?” Anger replaces every other emotion in my body, and I rush forward, shoving Dante’s chest. “Did you kill her?” I scream, getting up in his face.
“Shae—” Rex takes a step toward me but Dante shoots a hand out, stopping him.
“Tell me you killed her. Tell me, Dante,” I chant, my fists striking him harder with each word while I sob and gasp for breath. “She’s dead,” I scream. “And it’s your fault. You killed my sister!”
Dante snags my wrists in his hands, and I glare up at him, prepared for his wrath, prepared to fight. And I’ll fight until the death if I have to, but make no mistake about it, I will get revenge.
“I’m so sorry, Shae.”
“You did!” I shriek, trying to break free, but it’s no use, his grip is too tight. “You killed her, you son of a bitch! You killed our—”
Snapping my lips shut, I give one final yank, and he releases me. I dig my fingers into my hair, spinning around so I can get away from him.
It’s hard to believe that just last night I was hoping for a future with Dante in my life. But no way will that happen now.
How could I ever forgive him?
I can’t.
And now I’m going to destroy his family’s life the same way they destroyed mine. I might die in the process, but that’s a chance I’m willing to take.
Dante stalks toward me and grips my arm, whirling me around. “What were you going to say?” he demands, his wide eyes searching mine.
“Nothing,” I spit. “You don’t deserve to know what I was going to say.”
The grip on my arm loosens and Dante takes a step back, his eyes narrowed. “I know you’re upset, but you have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.”
“Shae, he’s right.” Rex steps in front of me, his worried eyes pleading with me. “You’re upset, understandably so, but you need to hear us out.”
“What I need to do is get even.”
“What? Are you out of your goddamn mind?” Dante’s deep voice booms through the air, and I flinch before straightening my back and stepping toward him.
“I’ve been out of my goddamn mind for the last fourteen years, since the day your father murdered my family,” I roar, pounding a fist to my chest. “He destroyed me, and now I’m going to destroy him.”
“What? Shae, no, that’s not you. Listen…”
Rex reaches for me, but I flinch back, refusing to let him touch me, though I know the feel of his skin against mine would soothe the darkest parts of my soul.
“Dante, give us a minute alone, please?”
Dante glares at his brother but complies, storming from the room without a glance toward me.
Rex sighs, dropping his head.
“Don’t even bother wasting your breath, because you can’t change my mind.”
His eyes lift. “Listen to me, okay? I promise I won’t touch you, but you have to listen. I just figured out who you are. I would’ve said something this morning, but you told me before that you don’t remember much from your past, and I wanted to talk to Dante, figure out a way to talk to you about it and keep you safe at the same time.”
I shake my head, not wanting his words.
“Dante didn’t kill Cami, Shae, my father did.”
“You delivered her to him,” I hiss.
“No, baby, that’s not how it happened.” Rex’s eyes grow suspiciously bright. “I’ve relived that day a million times—in my thoughts, in my dreams. Each time I wonder what I could’ve done differently, if the outcome would have been the same. But the truth is, I have no idea where I would be right now had it not been for you and your sister, which is why I can’t let you do this. You saved me, Shae, and now it’s my turn to save you.”
“I don’t want you to save me.” Fed up with his useless words, I hold my hands out. “I’m done, Rex. Just tell me where your mother is.”
“What?” His back stiffens. “She’s at Ambrosi’s. Why do you need to talk to my mother?”
“Don’t fucking worry about it.”
“I will worry about it. She’s my business. You are my goddamn business.”
My nostrils flare as I hold my chin high, determined not to let his words distract me. There’s only one thing I need to do right now, and it starts with Isabella.
“Fuck you, Rex.” I spit the words out with more venom than a snake bite, and the tension in the air crackles.
I can see the shift in Rex’s demeanor.
He’s done trying to talk to me.
Pushing to his full height, he squares his shoulders. His jaw ticks, and then he says, “Don’t you dare walk away from me, Shae.”
“I don’t have a choice.” My voice breaks, along with the delicate foundation Rex and I have spent so much time building. Amazing how something you thought was solid can collapse so easily.
“You do have a choice, and I will help you. But if you seek revenge against my father, you’ll force me to do things I don’t want to do.”
“I get it, Rex. You want to protect your fath—”
“I want to protect my family,” he growls, taking a menacing step toward me. “And I will do anything—at all costs, without hesitation—to ensure the people I love stay safe.”
That doesn’t include me. He doesn’t need to say the words; I can hear it in his voice. If it comes down to me or his father, Rex will choose his father.
I turn around, walking toward the door.
“Where the hell are you going?”
With my hand on the knob, I look over my shoulder one last time at the man who helped destroy my life, only to unknowingly put it back together.
The man I hate.
The man I love.
Dante storms into my office as soon as Shae is gone.
“Where the fuck is she going?”
Yanking open the bottom drawer of my desk, I pull out my .45, check to make sure it’s loaded, and stuff it in the back of my pants.
“Where do you think she’s going? What would you do if you just remembered, after fourteen years, who murdered your family?”
“She’s going after Dad? Is she fucking stupid? She’s going to get herself killed.”
“No, she won’t. Because we won’t let her.”
Dante’s lips part, and I cock a brow.
“Fucking son of a bitch,” he rumbles, rushing to his office, where he, too, grabs his .45. “I can’t believe this shit. What the fuck are we supposed to do?” he mumbles, prepping his gun as I just did. “Let’s just grab Shae, tie her to a chair, and we’ll make her see reason.”
“I can’t do that, Dante.”
“Why the fuck not?”
“Because I love her,” I yell. “And I understand why she feels the need to do whatever the fuck it is she’s going to do. If someone murdered you, I’d be the exact same way.”
“What’s she going to do? Point a gun to his head and demand an apology?”
“No clue. I just know we have to get to her and Mom before Dad does.”
“Wait. What? Mom? What does she have to do with this?”
Grabbing my keys, I stalk down the hall and out to my car with Dante following close behind. “We’re about to find out.”
Dante yanks open the passenger side door and slides in. “I hate this shit. This is why I don’t want any part of the fucking mafia.”
“I know, brother, but Shae needs us. Whether she knows it or not, she’s about to go head to head with the fucking devil, and we’re going to be there to stop her.”
“I know you love this girl, Rex, but are you ready to die for her?”
“I’m not going to die, and neither are you.”
“I better not fucking die,” he scoffs. “Or I’ll come back to haunt your ass.”