Hide Little Traitor (Lombardi Legacy #2)

Prologue

KINGSTON

THEN

TEN YEARS AGO

Being this close to the Lombardi compound sets my nerves on edge, but I made a promise to my best friend that if his daughter ever called, I would drop everything, walk through fucking fire to get her to safety, and I don’t make a habit of breaking promises.

The gas station illuminates the road ahead, and some of the tension bleeds from my shoulders. The sooner I get Chloe out of here, the sooner I get the fuck away from Miami.

I have offices all around the country, but as luck would have it, I was in Atlanta when she called, and the jet was already fueled up.

Flying into an airfield close to the compound was a risk, but I couldn’t leave her for any longer than necessary, even if that meant risking both our lives.

I pull the rental sedan into a parking space in front of the gas station and don’t waste any time climbing out. By now the Lombardi’s are looking for her, and it’s only a matter of time before they descend on this place.

It’s a fucking wonder they haven’t already, considering it’s the only building within walking distance of the compound, but Salvatore always insists on doing things methodically, which means his men are searching every inch of the perimeter right now while I pluck what they’re looking for right out from under their noses.

It has crossed my mind that this could be a trap, that one of the Lombardis convinced Chloe to use the number her father had her memorize to bring me back to Miami.

They’ve been hunting me for years, but when you spend your life hunting others, you also get very fucking good at hiding.

The pure terror in Chloe’s voice was enough to make me believe this is real, but I’ve been fooled before.

Striding into the gas station, I keep my head on a swivel for potential threats, but when I meet the eye of the teenage attendant, I realize I’m not in any danger.

He looks down behind the counter and says something softly, which is when I hear it.

Soft sobs come from beside him, and I’m across the room before I’ve made the conscious decision to move.

When I reach the edge of the counter and peer over, I find my best friend’s daughter curled up with her head on her knees. Blood and dirt cover most of the skin on display, while the rest of her is covered by a flimsy nightgown.

The fact she has shoes on is nothing short of a miracle, but that does little to ease the ache in my chest at the sight of her.

“Chloe?” I rumble.

Haunting green eyes peek up at me a moment before her entire body trembles with broken cries.

It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Chloe Weaver. Years. But it’s clear she’s no longer the kid she was back then.

Objectively I knew she was an adult now, having celebrated her birthday almost six months ago, but knowing something and seeing it for yourself are two different things.

Glancing up at the attendant, I find his eyes bouncing from me to the crying woman curled up on the tiled floor.

“Is this the guy you were waiting for?” he asks quietly, his hand disappearing beneath the counter to what I assume is a gun.

He doesn’t seem the type that could actually pull the trigger, but I’m impressed that he would consider it to protect a woman he’s just met.

Chloe nods, another heart-wrenching sob tearing through her chest.

I can’t begin to imagine what she’s been through, but from the limited details she gave me on the phone, both her parents are dead.

It was only a matter of time before Salvatore’s paranoia got the better of him when it came to Neil, just the same as it did with me.

I was just smart enough to get the fuck out of the city before he could order his men to kill me.

Fishing my wallet from my pocket, I flick through the cash inside and pull out the eight hundred dollars I have on me, dropping it on the counter in front of the attendant, who stares at the wad with wide eyes.

“For keeping a stranger safe,” I say before rounding the end and getting a better look at Chloe.

She’s in rough shape, but I can’t see anything life-threatening. I’ll have a doctor meet us when we get back to Atlanta to check her over regardless.

“I’m going to pick you up now, Chloe. Is that okay?”

Unfortunately she’s not the first battered woman I’ve dealt with over the years, and given my line of work, she won’t be the last either.

But she is the first that I have a personal attachment to, and that changes things more than I expected.

She gives a shaky nod before looking to the attendant. “Thank you,” she whispers.

“You’re welcome.” He swallows before looking up at me. “You’ll make sure she sees a doctor?”

“I will,” I assure him, carefully feeding one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her back before standing and settling her against my chest.

She’s lighter than she looks, and the protective part of me is immediately desperate to feed her, even as the logical part of my mind reminds me that she likely won’t be able to eat anything substantial for a while.

Not until the shock wears off.

With one last look over my shoulder at the attendant, I make my way back to the sedan. I balance her in one arm as I open the passenger door and carefully place her inside.

I’m itching to check her over, to make sure none of the blood coating her soft skin is fresh, but not until we’re in the air.

All that matters right now is getting the fuck out of Lombardi territory.

Once she’s clipped in, I brush the matted auburn hair from her face, wiping away a fresh wave of tears that fall against her cheeks.

“You’re safe now, Chloe. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The practiced words fall from my lips with ease, but I realize as I round the car that I’ve never meant them quite as much as I do this time.