The next morning, there is a soft knock on my door.

I roll over to the sound, fully alert, pushing the gun under my pillow when the door creaks open, and Jen steps in.

“Good morning,” she chimes. She’s fully dressed in a thick, soft pink sweater, khakis, and knee-high brown boots. Her dark hair is parted at the crown and gathered behind her in a low ponytail. “I just wanted to let you know that my mom had to run a few errands today, but she left me the car in case you want to go for breakfast in town.” She twists her fingers into knots, smiling a little. “Maybe we can have a girls’ day and get to know each other a little better? Get our hair done and maybe go shopping afterwards? If you want…”

I press my lips to smile as I sit up, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. “Uh, yeah. Sure. That would be nice.”

A sigh of relief escapes her. “Oh, thank goodness. I thought you were going to reject the whole thing. I may or may not have scheduled hair appointments for us—not saying your hair looks bad or anything, I just figured you might like a new look for your fresh start…” She trails off, chewing on her bottom lip. “Please tell me if I’m annoying you. I can totally call and cancel the appointment if it’s too much.”

I laugh, sliding out of bed and walking to meet her. I grip her shoulders with a warm smile. “Stop it, Jen. You are not annoying me. I appreciate you doing this. I always loved getting my hair done and going shopping.”

She beams. “Mom told me your mom would take you to the hair salon with her every other Saturday and then to the mall to pick a new outfit to match your hair. I just wanted to do something nice.”

My smile almost collapses just hearing about Mom, but I keep myself together, my smile never fading. “Which is exactly why I am eager to go. I’ll get dressed and meet you downstairs.”

She nods and then steps away, walking to the door. I get freshened up and dress in jeans and a chunky ivory sweater that was hanging in the closet. The closet was full of sweaters, but the jeans were either too big or too small. Luckily, whoever packed my suitcases put a few pairs in one of them.

I brush my hair up into a ponytail and loosely tie a brown scarf around my neck, then I’m out the door with one of the designer tote bags from the closet.

In the bag is the pistol Draco gave to me, tucked neatly at the bottom and wrapped in a scarf.

I walk down the stairs, doing a quick scan for any sign of Clark. He’s nowhere in sight, which leads me to hoping he’s actually out making something happen. He has to figure out a way to get me back to Mexico.

Jen trots down the stairs behind me, smiling hard with the keys in hand. “You ready?”

I nod, following her to the door. “Let’s get this girls’ day started.”

* * *

After catching breakfast at a pancake house, Jen drives us ten minutes to a salon in the heart of town called Jills. Even while out in the small town, I can’t help but watch my back.

It feels like someone is watching me. Maybe I’m just being paranoid. Maybe someone is. Either way, I’ve been keeping my eyes peeled.

Jen parks in front of a brick building with glass windows casing the front, giving full view to the stylists and their clients inside. I look to the left, spotting a black SUV parking on the side of the street in front of a bakery, the vehicle’s windows tinted. I narrow my eyes at the SUV.

“Come on. They’re nice here, I promise.” Jen’s voice cuts through my thoughts as she pushes out of the car, shutting her door behind her. I grab my bag and follow her lead, making way to the entrance, taking one last glance back at the truck.

I’m being really paranoid.

No one knows where I am now. He said I was safe.

Unless he has someone watching me from a distance to keep tabs for him. . .

As soon as the door to the salon swings open, a bell chimes above and all eyes shift to us. All of the women smile. Literally, all of them. I would say it’s creepy, but it’s not at all. It’s warm and welcoming, making me forget all about the chilliness outside and the stupid SUV.

The smell of mint and eucalyptus surrounds me, a cooling, comforting aroma.

Jen stops at the front desk, where a woman with blonde hair accented with lavender streaks stands. Her nose is pierced, and the sleeves of tattoos on both her arms are beautiful works of art. Her nametag says Dalia.

She checks us in, and since we’re a few minutes early she leads the way to the waiting area.

The waiting area is quaint and trendy, the sofas upholstered in a black and white pattern with turquoise throw pillows. The table set up in the middle of the area is piled with several fashion magazines. To the right of one of the couches is a water station, the water infused with oranges, lemons, and raspberries, along with a box of donuts.

“Please help yourself to the fruit infused water and donuts. They are always on the house for our clients, and there is plenty more in the back,” Dalia says with a full smile.

“Thanks, Dalia,” Jen responds.

Dalia walks back to the front desk and logs something into the computer. My eyes shift over to the display cases filled with all sorts of things, from hairsprays to shampoos and conditioners. There is even handmade jewelry for sale.

Someone sneezes, and I jerk my head up, focusing on the culprit. A woman in a chair getting highlights wipes her nose aggressively, and then mumbles something to her stylist.

I clutch the handle of my bag tighter, breathing as evenly as possible.

Jen stands up to pour two cups of water, handing me one when she spins around. She takes the seat beside me, blowing out a breath.

“You should try and relax,” she murmurs. “I promise, no one here knows who you are except the family.”

I take the water, lowering my gaze to my tote bag, steadying my breathing. My heart is pounding. I can’t believe I’m so on edge. It’s been so long since I’ve been out alone like this—no guards. No one breathing down my back. No Jefe.

I set my tote down on the spot beside me and then bring the rim of the plastic cup up to my lips, allowing the cool water to fall through my lips and sink down my throat. It’s refreshing, and enough to make me sit back.

“Can I ask you something?” Jen asks after several small sips of her water.

I glance up at her. “Sure. Anything.”

“My dad told me not to bring it up…but I’m just really curious about what happened there. With you and the man that had you.”

My eyes are wider, my pulse skittering now.

“I heard you making noises while you slept last night. I’m kind of a night owl—always sneaking down at like two in the morning to get a snack or watch Netflix on Dad’s big screen in his man cave.” She laughs a little, but then her face is serious again. “But when I walked by, I heard…whimpering. Like you were crying, maybe?” She whispers the last part. I swallow hard, my eyes darting away from hers.

“I remember a lot of things,” I murmur. “Things that were . . . terrifying. I have nightmares about it sometimes. I don’t think they’ll ever go away.”

“What things? If you don’t mind me asking?”

No, I don’t mind her asking. I’m stronger than what happened. I’m better than it. It will not rule me.

I twist to face her, grabbing her hand. She looks down at it and then back up at me, her eyes cloudy with concern now.

“If I tell you, Jen, you have to promise not to tell anyone. Not even Aunt Minnie. And definitely not Uncle Jack.”

She bobs her head. “I swear I won’t. I’m good at keeping secrets, I promise.”

I mash my lips together, releasing her hand to turn and place my water down on the coffee table.

“I was there for about two months. It got better after a while, but when I first arrived, I was treated like shit.”

She blinks, but says nothing. Her eyes are begging for more though.

“I was locked in a cell—it felt kind of like a dungeon. It was dark, damp, and it smelled awful. They didn’t even let me use the bathroom. I was tied up with these thick, hard ropes—” I hold up one arm and pull the sleeve of my sweater up, showing her the scars. “That’s where these marks came from. I was trying so hard to get out of them, but it was impossible.” I wipe the sweat off my forehead. “There were these guards there—his men. They would watch me, either in person or on cameras. They would switch out every few hours. Two of them were bad. Really bad. They always threatened to…do things to me, but the guy that was in charge of them didn’t know about it.”

“The Jefe,” she says, loud and clear.

And I hold her gaze, nodding. “You know about him?”

“I know a lot of things about him. I hear Dad and Clark talking about him a lot. He’s a big deal. Everyone’s afraid of him. That’s why we didn’t think we’d ever see you again.”

I sigh. “He can be cruel and controlling. He also likes to punish…but I got to know him, and he got to know me, and eventually things changed.”

She gives a sincere nod.

“Anyway, I’ve been told I make noise in my sleep. He told me, actually. I don’t even think I can help it. I get images of what they did to me—I won’t go into detail, but picture the worst things that could ever happen to a woman, happening to me. There was no mercy for me there. No one gave a damn about me when I first arrived. I…wanted to die, that’s how bad it was. But when I realized that he knew exactly who I was, I knew I had to do something about it. I had to get The Jefe to trust me.”

“Well, he must have trusted you a lot. Look at you. You’re here now. Free from him.”

“Yeah.” I sigh. “Trust me, he is not a good man. He’s vicious, Jen. He’s cold and deadly, and right now he’s hurting, and that’s the worst thing for him. He’s not thinking clearly, and I’m afraid he’s going to end up either hurting himself, or worse…end up dead.”

“Don’t you want him to die? After all he’s put you through?”

Her question hits me hard, so hard I don’t even blink. My breathing falters, heartbeat stuttering. I stare at her, unsure how to answer, until she fidgets, curiosity burning deep in her eyes.

“When I first met him, all I could think about was killing him. At one point, all I wanted was for him to die and for me to get my old life back…but now, after all that time, I don’t know anymore. When I was there, he fueled me—inspired me. He revealed a side of me I never thought I’d be brave enough to own.”

She looks at me, and I can’t tell if she’s baffled or terrified.

Her mouth clamps shut, and she places her cup of water down.

“Chrissy and Olivia?” a woman calls and Jen looks back.

“Oh—here!” Jen tugs on my sleeve before standing. I grab my bag and follow her and the stylist to two empty chairs.

“Olivia?” I whisper over her shoulder.

“I didn’t want to use your real name. Oh, and by the way, you’re not my cousin. You’re my friend from Aspen, Colorado.”

I bob my head as we sit. “Okay, friend.”

She smiles, and the stylist asks us both what we’d like. I decide to go with a basic blowout, though the highlights the woman across from me is getting are tempting.

“I’m glad you told me, Gia,” Jen says my way, her voice low. Her lips twist. “I hope to find someone who fuels me too—maybe not a kingpin mafia leader, but someone who still makes good money the legal way and wants a big family. Like a lawyer or an architect or something.” She sighs looking into the mirror in front of her. “I think that’s what I want.”

She’s so innocent and naïve. Jen is so…pure—the complete opposite of what I am. I’m worried having me around will only taint her. I am not good. Hell, I’m far from it, but she seems to be drawn toward me like a magnet.

Some of us Nicoteras should stay that way. Innocent. Pure. Sweet.

Not tainted, vile, and vicious. Not sold off to the highest bidder as a virgin Nicotera, scrambling around to save our own lives.

But I guess with a name like ours, things like that are usually bound to happen. Someone will come along and snatch that innocence right away. They will eliminate all the good left inside you until you are nothing but a vessel, with veins full of ice and a heart as black as coal.

I was afraid of becoming that…but now that it has happened, I don’t see it being any other way. Being what I am now makes me strong. It keeps me on my toes. It gives me something to fight for—and I’m fighting to feel good again.

To be good again.

Get rid of all of my enemies and no longer having a target on my back. I just want happiness, even in the midst of all this darkness. I want to get away and be free—literally free of all the worldly troubles and all the violence.

The only problem is, the person I want to share this happiness with is Draco. That’s why I have to find him. I have to be with him. I have to tell him how I really feel before it’s too late.

I have to be his reina, so I tell my stylist, “You know what? I want what she’s getting.” I point to the woman across from me. “Give me highlights.”