Chapter Twenty-Eight

Eamon

I tried her phone one last time and finally someone picked up.

But it wasn’t Layla.

I fucking knew that voice. And it pissed me off that he was the one answering Layla’s phone.

“What are you doing with Layla’s phone? What the fuck do you want, Rico?”

He gave me a deep chuckle that made me want to pound his face, and next, the fucker gave me click of his tongue.

“Where are your manners, Connelly? None of this is personal, you know that. It’s just business.”

Yeah, I knew it. But assholes like Rico took great pleasure in their work, which always made it personal.

“You got my attention,” I said, anger boiling in my veins.

Not even Rico was good enough to break through my fortress of security, and even if he did, he’d be dead before he ever got close enough to me to make a move.

“Good. Because my client wanted me to make sure you were paying attention.”

Another deep chuckle sounded, and my jaws clenched with the effort of holding back my words.

“Right. Who exactly is this client?”

Though I could probably guess who was behind this, hearing it straight from a professional hit man would be all the evidence I needed to fuck up the lives of everyone involved. Including Rico.

“We both know who. Don’t be cute,” Rico grumbled.

“That’s a gift of genetics and I can’t help it.”

I knew that would get under his skin because he was damn sensitive about his ugly mug.

“I might know who your client is, but if you don’t confirm, I might be afraid of the wrong people.”

That pulled another laugh from him. “The Milano family.”

The name came out on a frustrated groan.

“And what do they want with Layla? She has nothing to do with either their business or mine.”

“Maybe not, but she is involved with you and that’s a damn sight better than being in the business.”

A simple enough conclusion to draw, one that meant they were watching me. Watching both of us.

“Explain.”

“You two are sweet together. Really, you are.” His sigh came heavy down the line. “I saw you two this morning and that slow, lingering kiss. A couple in love if I ever saw one.”

“You’re wrong, Rico. What you saw was me saying goodbye to a piece of ass. Nothing more.”

The words turned sour on my tongue but I had to say them. I had to make Rico think Layla didn’t mean anything to me. “You’ve got bad intel.”

“Is that right?”

Rico’s gruff voice sounded amused but I wasn’t fooled. He looked like a sloppy bastard and smelled even worse, but nobody did contract wet work like Rico.

“Yep.”

“Then why are you calling her?”

I laughed. “Because we had plans tonight. Naked plans and I was in the mood to get my dick wet, something you wouldn’t know about since you haven’t seen your dick since the nineties.”

Rico laughed. “If she ain’t yours then I guess I’ll stick my dick in her.”

“Get away from me you stinky bastard!” I heard Layla’s voice ring out in the distance. “No, don’t touch me!”

As hard as it was, I said nothing. Any clue, any inkling that Layla was more than a quick fuck and she’d be everything Rico and the Milano family hoped for.

Rico came back on the line with a laugh. “She’s feisty, Connelly. I can see why you like her.”

“Are we done?”

“Yeah, we’re done,” he said easily. Too easily.

Layla’s screams grew more terrified. “Get your greasy paws off me!” I had to close my mind to what he was doing to her or I wouldn’t be able to get control of this situation. I had to stay focused.

“Just listen to this,” he snarled into the phone, “and then we’re done.”

I closed my eyes as Layla yelled and fought with Rico, the sounds getting louder as he moved closer to her. A loud smack sounded and another cry from Layla. “Ow!” That was it, one short sharp scream followed by small continuous whimpering.

I gripped the phone so hard I thought it might break, but it was the only thing keeping me from threatening to rip that asshole limb from limb. If I said one word, if I gave him any indication that Layla was more than a fuck buddy, he’d do more than smack her around. Those Milano fuckers would guarantee it.

“None of that means a damn thing to me if you don’t tell me what you expect of me.”

“That’s easy. Meet me tonight. The Kinky Elephant. Eleven o’clock.”

The call ended abruptly and as bad as I wanted to throw the phone across Layla’s parking lot, I held my temper.

“Goddammit!” I screamed into the night.

I knew exactly what I had to do, and I needed my family at my side.