18. The Island Lord
EIGHTEEN
THE ISLAND LORD
Lake
Both Justin and Falen Rams have gray hair and green eyes. They’re a chipper couple who’ve been married for forty years. After Leo and I helped them sort out the details about the ferry, they insisted on taking us to lunch. They find Leo adorable and well-mannered, but criticize him for eating only two bites of his chicken fingers before going onto the sand with his model airplane.
I face the beach and watch Leo while the couple and I talk about travel, their retirement lifestyle, and even touch on politics, but quickly find me a poor conversationalist on that subject. We’re saved from uncomfortable silence when our server returns Mr. Rams’s credit card, informing us the lunch has been comped.
“Oh,” Justin Rams exclaims, his delight evident. “How nice. Thank you, but can I ask why it was comped?”
Our server, a young woman wearing a teal bathing-suit top and cream linen pants, tucks a strand of stray dark hair behind her ear. With light makeup on, she appears elegant even while working all day.
“It’s on Mr. Angelini’s tab,” she says.
I sit up and look around. “He’s here?”
“No, no, he called.” She makes a hand gesture with her thumb up and pinky out near her ear, mimicking a phone.
“He called and comped our food?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “He said to watch over you. We are watching, and since he called, it’s on his tab.”
I don’t want to be watched. Not when I escaped him so that the people who are making me spy on him can approach without him finding out. Wait, how does he know we’re here? I look around and spot a pair of cops on one side of the bar. There’s another police officer sitting at the table behind us.
“Please tell Mr. Angelini thank you for us,” Mrs. Rams tell the waitress.
Alessio sent the cops after me and Leo. No doubt. After seeing that map of Val’s whereabouts and not being able to leave the house without him unlocking the front door, it’s clear he enjoys control.
Now that I’m aware I’m being followed, I look around and count a total of seven cops. That’s just within my eyesight. With this many police in the area, I doubt the sadists will approach me. It looks like a stakeout. The sadists might think I summoned the cops to our rendezvous!
Oh my God. Now I’m freaked out that today will end up like one of those movies where the perps arrange a meeting with their victims, but the cops get involved, the perp finds out, feels betrayed, and hurts whoever they’re holding captive.
My heart’s pounding.
Cold sweat accumulates on my brow.
“Lake, are you okay?” Justin Rams asks while his wife looks at me with a concerned expression.
I swat at the air. “Fine, fine. I’m fine. Just really humid.” I wipe my brow with a napkin and fan it out, pretending I’m hot.
Leo’s near the water. I wish he’d back away. I have no idea if he can swim, and he doesn’t have a bathing suit. I shield my eyes from the sun, and that’s when I spot her. That ugly, sadistic bitch. She walks toward Leo, holding something in her hand.
I leap out of the chair and sprint across the sand as fast as my feet will carry me.
When I get to Leo, I stand in front of him like a living wall. Okay, so compared to her, I’m a small living wall, but if she wants to approach this little boy, she’ll have to go through me. She can take me. I suffer no delusions when faced with a woman who can kick my ass.
But Alessio sent the cops after us, so I doubt she’ll do anything stupid.
The woman slows down as she approaches us. From a distance of only a few feet, she says, “You’re not alone.” As she walks by, she bumps my shoulder. “Your uncle will pay for this.”
Oh no.
She walks past us so none of the cops pick up on our exchange, but I can’t stop myself from turning and rushing up to walk beside her. “No, please.”
“Get away from me, bitch,” she says. From the pocket of her large brown raggedy dress, she shows me the butt of her gun. “Get back there.”
“Bathroom. Meet me in the bathroom.”
I stop, turn back, and almost run into Leo.
He’s looking up at me, his airplane tucked under his arm. “Who was that?”
“I don’t know.”
“But you talked to her.”
“I asked her if she wanted half of my burger.”
“Why?”
“She looked hungry.”
Leo frowns. “What did she say?”
“She’s a vegetarian.”
He bites his lip. “We have leftover spaghetti and marinara at the house.”
I run a hand through his thick black hair. “Next time we see her, we’ll offer that.”
“You ready to go home?” Blue eyes squint up at me.
“Actually, I’m going to stay for a while longer, but I’d like you to go home and nap.” I take his hand and walk him over to the nearest cop.
“Hi, there,” I say.
The cop’s eyes widen, and he says something into the earpiece. Before I can blink, the equivalent of a SWAT team pours out of an ice cream truck and surrounds me and Leo. A tall, broad-shouldered man with a full sleeve of tattoos on his left arm approaches me. Midthirties, handsome in a cold, no-bullshit kind of way.
“Is there a problem?” he asks in a deep, baritone voice.
I stare at my reflection in his black shades. “I’m wondering if you could call the island’s lord for me. Tell him his governess begs an audience.”
I expect the man to refuse, but he nods and dials. “Mr. Angelini, your governess approached us and wants a word.”
Nice to see the man knew exactly who I was referring to as the island’s lord.
“That’s what she said, yes. She said your governess ,” the man confirms. He hands me the phone, a smirk firmly planted on his face.
“Hi,” I say.
“You told him you’re mine?” Alessio asks.
“No, that’s not what I said.”
“Repeat what you said.”
I sigh. “I said his governess begs an audience .” Damn it.
“Begs?” Alessio sounds excited.
“It seemed appropriate at the time.”
“Begging me is appropriate all the time.” He pauses and adds, “As you well know, begging me gets you treats. Doesn’t it, Lake?”
Alessio wouldn’t stop eating me out unless I begged permission to come. It was a power play I enjoyed with him, and he delivered in spades. I clear my throat and don’t dignify his remark with a reply.
“Fine,” he says. “Don’t answer that, but allow me to point out that his is a possessive pronoun. His governess means the woman belongs to man, and in this case, she belongs to me. But since English is my second language, it’s possible I’m mistaken. Am I?”
I change the subject. “You sent a SWAT team after me.”
“They’re hardly a SWAT team. They’re the equivalent of the Secret Service. Very discreet.”
The jeans and white T-shirts they’re wearing might be discreet, but the shades and the tats turn heads. “Alessio, I’m only having lunch.”
“How was your lunch?”
He’s infuriating. I stomp my foot. “That’s not the point, and you know it.”
“Are you angry with me?” he asks.
“You’re having me followed.”
“I’m not having you followed. I’m securing you. There’s a difference.”
This is what he did in the house. He thinks locking me and Leo inside is “securing” us.
I run a hand through my hair. “The Ramses and I are going to stay for coffee. I’m sending Leo back home with your Secret Service guys.”
“The Ramses?”
I can’t help myself. “The entire football team.” I wait for him to reply. It’s taking longer than necessary. “Hello? Are you still there?”
“Do you know when you’ll be back?”
“Whenever we’re done. I have to get through the whole team.” I bite my fingernail, wondering if he’ll take the bait and laugh or think I’m serious.
“Do you need two more hours, three? Until nightfall?”
“It’ll be an all-nighter.”
“Lake, you do not want me to come fetch you.”
Okay, he’s done being teased, and he’s right. I don’t want him to come. “Alessio,” I enunciate his name. “I’m a grown-ass woman, and I don’t appreciate you making me feel like I have a curfew.”
“You’re feeling it. I’m not. I’m only asking when I can expect you home. It’s not too much to ask.”
I sigh. “A few hours. Maybe two. Please, pull the men back. It’s creepy that you’re ‘securing’ me, and I can’t relax knowing all these guys are watching me.”
“Okay.”
“Okay! Thanks.” I hang up and say goodbye to Leo, who returns home.