Chapter Two #3
“You are begging for it, Enzino.” His hiss turns my labored breathing into full-on panting.
It? What’s it? I gasp, sinking my nails into the back of his hand.
His grip tightens, stealing all the air away.
I see determination in the depths of his eyes as he keeps looking at me, fighting for my life.
Is he going to kill me? Are a pair of cement shoes gonna cover my beautiful leather boots?
That angers me. I love my baby boots. What a strange thing to think while on the verge of passing out.
The answer comes rather quickly when he releases me after muttering a fuck.
I don’t have time to take a deep breath because I’m lifted right off my feet and hauled over his shoulder.
My purse is pulled down by gravity, hitting the back of my head, and another gasp leaves my mouth.
My fingers grab the back of his jacket as he starts walking.
His arm around my legs is the only thing holding me against him.
I’m so afraid to fall that I don’t try to move from the undignified position.
Maybe I can get the attention of someone inside the club.
A guy carried away on someone’s shoulder has to catch a few curious stares.
I can create a distraction. My plan dies right here after I hear a loud thud.
Then we are leaving the smoking area and moving across the parking lot to the back of the building. Fuck! He’s kicked open the fence door.
I’m starting to feel dizzy as I hear him talking to someone…on the phone.
“I got the package.” Is he talking about me? Am I the package? “Did you take care of the security cameras in the smoking area? Good. Check if anyone saw us and take care of them.”
The rest of his words fade into static over the throbbing of my heartbeat in my ears and the whimpering fear inside my chest threatening to break free and make me lose my shit.
I try to lift my head, but it feels as heavy as a rock.
My stomach is churning, and I’m about to give the Reese’s Pieces a different way out of my stomach when the world goes right-side-up again.
I stumble as I attempt to find my balance, and as soon as I do, I elbow the wacko in the guts and start running.
Two steps and I’m forcibly pulled back from the strap of my purse, and in the next moment, my back is pinned against the side of a car.
I punch and claw at his chest and face until a hard slap forces my head to the side, and I hit it hard on the car window.
The ringing in my ears accompanies the pain echoing in my head, and I can’t stifle the whimper escaping my lips.
The taste of blood—mine this time—fills my mouth. He got me fucking good.
“Who are you?” I breathe out, feeling incredibly lightheaded. My head is killing me, and I can’t seem to control the mobility of my eyelids. Something is yanked off my body. My purse. Then I’m shoved on a leather seat inside a car. “Where are…you takin…me?”
“Shut it before I rip your throat out and watch you bleed out,” he hisses.
Unfortunately, I believe him. I seriously need a good fucking from something other than life.
Luca
He lost consciousness. Figures.
I don’t need to pat him down; I can easily see his body through his tight clothes. I still check his high boots, removing them, then get the rope from the glove compartment and tie his hands.
The terrified victim performance outside the club almost had me fooled, but he rushed it and then fought like a fucking squirrel.
It was pathetic. I raise my jacket sleeve and glance at the bite mark on my forearm.
Aren’t Mafia princes supposed to know how to defend themselves?
My eyes fall on the high-heeled boots on the car floor and the short skirt he’s wearing.
Nothing about him screams mafioso. His lack of fighting skills just confirmed that.
Better for me, even though I wouldn’t have been against a nice punch-up—I could have done more damage.
I look at the cut on his lip and the redness on his cheek as I lift his limp body into a sitting position to blindfold him. The collar of his sweater falls on one side, exposing part of those chest chains and a very visible hickey. They both make my teeth grit in disgust. Enzino scum.
I admit he has a magnetic presence, one that draws eyes to him.
Easy to spot the skank. His body starts sliding sideways on the back seat, and I let it without a care.
I close the car door and move to the front.
I grab his purse and unload the contents on the passenger seat.
A phone with no contacts saved. No messages either, just a bunch of calls from different numbers, not odd in our line of work to keep your cell clean.
I’ll get Jeff on it; maybe he can find something useful.
I study the rest of his stuff—two empty packs of M I could count my hookups with the same sex on one hand.
I start walking toward the building, Vince has just disappeared through the front doors, leaving one open for me.
I get inside and head to the stairs. The elevator is still broken.
It’s fine, this Enzino is so damn light.
And he smells like fucking sunshine and…
and Honeycrisp—the apple variety my mother used to buy from the little shop around the corner from our house.
How is that possible? I tighten my hand on the back of his thigh and hurry my steps.
When I get to the second-floor landing, I meet Vince on his way down.
“Everything looks fine upstairs, boss. I’ll go check the perimeter around the building and then keep an eye on the entrance,” he says, avoiding my eyes. Good. I nod and resume the climbing. Two more floors.
I’ve just taken a few steps when Enzino regains his senses.
“You fucking bastard, get me off your back!” he barks, hitting me with his tied hands. He doesn’t sound scared enough by the situation.
“Shut the fuck up,” I growl, without stopping. I should have hit him harder.
“My boots! Where are my boots?”
Really? That’s what he’s preoccupied with at the moment?
“I can’t see anything, and this movement…I feel nauseous. Stop, unless you want me to paint you with puke.”
His acting is done, it seems. “Try it and you’ll have to eat through a straw for the next week,” I threaten. One more floor. I should have had Vince carry him up. Why didn’t I?
He stays silent for only a few seconds. “Doesn’t this position aggravate your sciatica, old man?”
How old does he think I am? I grunt and squeeze my fingers on his thighs until I leave marks on his skin. But it doesn’t shut him up.
“Who are you?”
I don’t give him an answer. I’ll be the one asking the questions.
“I’ll find a name for you then. I have wacko, weirdo, old man…peach! Were you recruited by the crows, peach?”
Crows? Is that the name of a gang?
“They are out to get me. Not all of them, only the ones following me around. I’m not nuts. I’m not like going to decimate the bird population. Only the members of the revolution.”
Birds? Revolution? What the fuck is he yapping about?
“Are you going to tell me who you are?” he asks again just as I enter the apartment.
“Curiosity killed the cat. I might kill you as well.” I throw him on the sofa.
He removes the blindfold with his tied hands and looks around.
“Where am I, the demon lair?” His gaze is still studying the place.
It’s not much. Kitchen and living room, one bedroom, and bathroom. But all the windows are laminated glass, and the security alarm is state-of-the-art.
Jeff comes out of the bedroom, and I order him to keep an eye on Enzino before turning to him.
“Move and I’ll break your legs,” I growl, enjoying the way he lowers his eyes. His slight submission feels fucking good.