Eva

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“No! We can’t go in there. Carmine—” I object, yet he thrusts me through the doorway, and Roman’s guard, who’s standing behind the door, leaps onto Carmine, knocking him to the ground. “Oh, my god!”

“Get off me!” Carmine roars, lurching upward as he kicks at the guard, who I quickly push so that he staggers to the side.

My gaze clashes with Carmine’s for a second before he grabs the guard’s hair from behind to haul him up, tugging his head back and stretching his neck. Then the attacker heaves them backward and Carmine hits the wall so hard that the door rattles on its hinges.

Carmine’s heavy breaths become more erratic, and just as the guard turns, he gives him a blow to the nose. Blood streams down his lips and chin while Carmine clutches his collar, rotates their positions, and slams him against the wall with his arm pressed to his throat. Reaching around his back, he snatches his weapon and pushes the barrel into the man’s temple.

“One wrong move and I’ll shoot you,” Carmine tells him before addressing me, “Eva. What. Is. Going. On? Why are you with Roman’s guard?”

“Why are you here? For Brandon?” I retort, scared and shaken up after being held at Roman’s for almost a week. Thank god, I did receive cream for my bruises and he hasn’t hit me again, but the waiting game is going excruciatingly slowly.

“Who’s Brandon? I’m here because you dropped a card in my car, so I’ve had someone staking this place out. I’m here because the Syndicate wants you. And I’m here because I plan to finally find out what exactly Roman and Gwen are concocting and what your role is in it. This time, I won’t leave until I get all my answers.”

“Don’t say a word,” the guard warns me, and Carmine pushes his arm into his throat, choking him.

“I’m not a patient man, so I’d answer if I were you.”

The guard grimaces in pain as I speak the truth, because if Carmine keeps interfering, I’m never going to get away from Roman. “Liam and I have been imprisoned at Roman’s house since Sunday, and they’re keeping us there until Gwen can confirm that we didn’t play them.”

“Why?” Carmine rolls his neck once as the tension rises.

“He doesn’t believe that I’m innocent, and our constant interaction about the watch made him suspicious of me for the entirely wrong reasons.”

“But if they’re holding you captive, how are you here and why were you here last Tuesday?”

“I convinced Gwen to let two guards accompany me to visit my brother, Brandon, who lives here, or else people were going to start asking questions. I thought you’d found Brandon and that’s why you were here.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother in here until now. Is Gwen here too?”

“No, only the guards. Another one is waiting in the car outside at the end of the street to take me back.”

The guard stammers, “W-What do you think will happen if you don’t return? You’re all dead.”

Without preamble, Carmine’s fist connects with his mouth. “I didn’t ask for your opinion!”

When the man spits out blood, Carmine steps aside before pulling him forward and knocking him back once more.

I close the distance to them. “Carmine, wait! I haven’t seen my brother, but Roman and Gwen threatened to kill him if I betray them.” Panicked, I tangle my hands in my hair. “Oh, my god, now I’m fucked. They’re going to think I’ve been in cahoots with you the entire time.”

My rant has Carmine turning his head in astonishment, and a flash of sympathy reflects behind his eyes, but then a creaking noise startles us. Before I know what’s happening, the door is being opened and Brandon walks through it just as the guard propels off Carmine and dives to the side, grabbing his gun from his waistband as he hooks his arm around Brandon’s neck and kicks the door shut.

“Arghhh...” Brandon yells, and I try to rush forward, but Carmine, who’s aiming his revolver directly at the guard’s head, blocks my path and I crash into his back as he stretches his arm around to shield me.

“Don’t fucking move!” the guard warns.

Brandon loses it, his arms flailing while his tiny thirteen-year-old body struggles against the hulk.

“Brandon, it’s okay,” I sob.

Then the guard clicks off the safety, ordering to Carmine, “Lower your gun.”

Carmine’s face holds a sinister grin. “Are you going to shoot me with tons of witnesses outside and no silencer?”

“Carmine. No.” I touch his shoulders, pressed behind him. “That’s my brother.”

“Trust me,” he mutters and is fixated on his target as I see him narrowing his eyes, studying every move of the guard while, on its own volition, my arm winds around Carmine’s middle and I cling to him.

With a sneer, the guard redirects his gun to Brandon’s ear as he cries, “Eva! Eva!”

Carmine doesn’t lower his aim while the guard talks, “I’ll decide what will happen—”

“Shut up,” Carmine orders in a menacing voice, shocking the guy, and when Carmine pulls the trigger, I shriek.

As the guard and Brandon topple backward, blood gushes onto the floor. Carmine and I run to them and I don’t know who was shot until Carmine yanks Brandon up and I see the guard, who was shot in the head, staring lifelessly into space. When Brandon falls into my arms, I caress his hair to ensure he’s unharmed, and as he cries into my chest, I notice that the back of his T-shirt is covered in the other man’s blood.

“It’s okay, little brother,” I say with a shiver.

Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door, and I lock eyes with Carmine.

Bending down, he lifts the guard’s ankles and pulls the body to the side, instructing me, “Get rid of them.”

First, I hurry Brandon over to the bed, telling him, “Be quiet for a second. It’s super important, okay? Can you do that for me, or else we’ll be in trouble.”

Unsteadily, he nods, so I shift back to the door while Carmine hides behind it and I inch it open, blocking the doorway.

“Hey, is everything all right in here?” a staff member asks.

“Yeah. We were just roughhousing.” I smile, and she returns the sentiment before walking away.

As I close the door, Carmine gives me a devilish grin. “You, a twenty-year-old, were roughhousing? I thought you’d come up with a better lie.”

“Is that another hidden compliment?”

“No,” he throws back as he approaches the guard, hunches down, and checks his pockets.

“Why do I even ask?” I grumble.

“I wonder the same.”

“Do you always have to have the last word?” I grind out.

“Yes,” he replies.

In the meantime, Brandon is staring in shock at the crime scene, and I realize we have a dead body in here.

“Oh, my god, we’re going to jail,” I utter in terror. “You killed him, for us...We have an even bigger mess now.”

“I’m not going to jail, and if you want to avoid it, I suggest you come with me,” he explains, brushing one hand through his tousled hair.

“And then what? I can’t leave Brandon. Roman and Gwen will kill him when their guard doesn’t return.” Regardless of what happens, I’m honored that Carmine defended us, but his frame becomes rigid as he assesses the dead guy and the seriousness of our predicament seems to set in.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me about your brother?” He lurches up in agitation with a scowl.

After a week of already being held and controlled by someone, my words tumble out, “You wouldn’t understand! I love my brother more than anything, even my own principles. He has no one but me! And do you know how our society treats him? And how they treat me? I’m a whore and he’s an idiot; that’s all everyone sees.”

He rears back from the sharpness in my voice and gapes at me in astonishment, yet I don’t recognize any judgment.

In a low tone, he counters, “I have not once called you a whore. You keep referring to yourself like that. It doesn’t define you. And I don’t think everyone sees him as an idiot.”

“They do where I come from. Our worlds might exist within the same city, but they’re very different. You have a job in the world of the rich and powerful. I have a job in the world of the poor. And these jobs define us.”

“That’s also not true, Eva.” He inches closer, speaking calmly, “If our jobs define us, then I’m just a killer.”

“Maybe you are.”

“No, I’m also a lawyer, a son, a brother, an uncle.”

“I’m only a sister,” I say before we realize that we have an audience as Brandon stares at us.

Carmine steps back, commenting, “No, you’re a sly con woman and a survivor without even knowing it,” before he glances at Brandon and bites the inside of his cheek.

“I’m not leaving him,” I whisper, holding Carmine’s undecided gaze.

Stashing his gun in the back waistband of his pants, he takes out his phone and types away furiously while he communicates his plan, spurring me into action. “Then he comes with us.”

“To the Syndicate? What will the Italian mafia do with us?”

“Right now, that’s not what you should be asking. If you go back to Roman, you’ll be tortured and he’ll be dead. I can guarantee that Liam is most likely dead already. And the Syndicate doesn’t know I found you yet,” he confesses, astounding me.

“Why are you telling me this?” I probe.

“Because I want you to know what kind of man I am. That I’m the one you need to trust, and along the way, you can fill in all the blanks for me to answer my questions. I’m not just an ass.”

“But you just created a bigger problem.” Though I believe him with every fiber of my being.

Unexpectedly, he shucks out of his jacket, and when he tosses it at me, I clumsily catch it. “Put it on and tie your hair up with something.”

I shove my arms into the jacket. It smells of Carmine’s sandalwood cologne and is warm from his body heat. “Why?”

“Your hair is too recognizable,” he explains, so I fish a rubber band out of Brandon’s desk drawer and pull my hair up into a bun.

In the meantime, Brandon has retreated into himself, which is actually a good thing. I’d prefer him dazed over panicked, because now I can handle him.

“But what about the...body?” I motion to the corpse, disbelieving the circumstances that surround me.

“It’ll be taken care of right away.” Carmine hides his gun in the back of his waistband, and I wonder what he means but store it away for later.

Inhaling an encouraging breath, I seize Brandon’s green jacket from the chair in the corner, help him put it on, and guide him to stand up so that he doesn’t startle and start screaming.

When Brandon’s hand grips mine, I squeeze it. “Everything’s going to be okay. You did nothing wrong, but we’re leaving this place now and I need you to stay quiet.”

“I-I’m scared...” he mutters.

For him, I hide my own fear. “There’s no need to be scared. Carmine will protect us.”

I smile hesitantly at Carmine, and to my surprise, he winks at Brandon, who smirks as he says, “Ball guy.”

I frown and demand from Brandon, “You know him?”

“Yes, I saw him Tuesday,” Brandon answers, and I look at Carmine for an explanation.

“I make it my business to know everything, but I didn’t realize he was your brother until now.” Carmine relocates to the other side.

I immediately believe he’s telling the truth, and I don’t even question why. Instead, I obey the one person who offers me help.

“We walk out calmly and go left toward my BMW parked at the end of the street. Roman’s other guard is parked at the opposite end, correct?”

“Yes,” I answer before Carmine opens the door and signals for us to precede him.

With a grunt, he trails behind us as we do as ordered while Brandon and I clutch each other’s hand, and I keep peeking sideways at Brandon to make sure he isn’t freaking.

The hallway is still swamped with family members of residents since there was a communal dinner, which I missed. Fortunately, no one pays any attention to us until I pass the reception desk, where Kayley is seated, widening her eyes at me because she doesn’t know whether or not to interfere. I discreetly shake my head once and she sighs in frustration, but I’ll update her later.

After we go through the door, out into the foggy night, Carmine takes the lead while we walk toward his car. As we get closer, my trembling eases, thank goodness.

When we cross the street, I pull Brandon forward to dodge a car and that’s the moment he freaks out, jerking his hand loose.

He presses his palms against his ears and cries, but the car has passed, so I grab his shoulders, imploring, “Brandon, come on, you’re okay.” I try to pull him forward, yet he shakes me off as he gazes around everywhere, sobbing harder.

“Eva, hurry,” Carmine yells from behind me, and he’s already standing at his BMW, opening the door as a gust of icy wind bursts by.

“Brandon!” I howl and attempt to take hold of his wrists, but he’s quivering uncontrollably.

My hair is being blown around my face when it escapes the rubber band, and as I tuck the strands back in annoyance, I notice a car coming at us from the corner of my eye, although way too late since its headlights are off. For a split-second, I look at Brandon two feet in front of me, and I rush forward to him while he’s yelling, scared, in the middle of the street and gripping his head.

“Eva!” I hear Carmine roaring before I’m lifted from behind as I extend my arms toward Brandon and tumble backward onto Carmine.

I shriek and then everything goes mute as if I’m in a dream without sound. I’m disoriented, and through the fog, I feel a car blazing by.