Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Rachel
"Leona?"
No answer. I rushed out and headed straight for Leona's bedroom.
The bed was made, pristine—no wrinkles, no sign anyone had slept there. On the nightstand sat a keychain, Mom's only keepsake: a worn brass anchor. Leona never let it out of her sight. Now it just lay there, abandoned.
I grabbed it in three strides and spotted the note tucked under the pillow. The edges were torn rough, the handwriting so frantic it nearly leaped off the page.
"Rachel, I need to lay low for a while. The diner and the apartment—they're yours now. Whatever you do, DO NOT come looking for me. Keep yourself safe. —Leona"
"What the hell..."
Lay low? What kind of trouble sends her running in the middle of the night? I stumbled back to my room, snatched my phone off the nightstand, fumbled the passcode twice before getting in, and pulled up Leona's number.
"Sorry, the number you have dialed is not in service."
"Pick up, damn it! Pick up!" I redialed, jaw clenched. Same cold automated voice. I tore through my contacts, calling everyone.
"Mary? It's Rachel. Sorry to call so early—have you seen Leona today?"
"No? Oh... nothing, probably mixed up her supply run schedule."
"Jack? Hey, it's Rachel from Sea Breeze. Did Leona stop by about next month's beef order? Yesterday? Did she seem off? No... okay, thanks."
I called everyone—her girlfriends, our suppliers, even the grocer across the street. Same story: saw her yesterday, everything normal, no mention of leaving town.
I scrubbed my face hard, forced myself to breathe. I couldn't fall apart. If I lost it now, she'd come home to a disaster. She would come home. She wouldn't just abandon me.
I got dressed, work clothes, shoved the note and keychain deep in my pocket. The diner needed to open. Life had to keep moving.
I reached for my bag when the door exploded with pounding.
"Leona Kane! Bitch! Get out here! I know you're in there!"
My heart seized. I backed up. "Who's out there? Wrong apartment!"
"Cut the crap! Open up!"
Like hell. I grabbed the baseball bat from beside the shoe rack, reaching for my phone to call 911 when the door burst open with a kick.
Four thugs filled the doorway. Black leather jackets, reeking of cheap cigarettes, sweat, and rust. The leader—shaved head, face tattoo—filled the entire frame.
"You're Leona's sister?" He looked me up and down.
I pocketed my phone. "I am. Who the hell are you?"
He barked a laugh and slapped a crumpled IOU against the doorframe. "Your dear sister borrowed from our boss and ran. Phone's dead, she's in the wind. Since she's gone, you're the only family left. Debts get passed down. Sisters count."
"Borrowed money?" My ears rang. "Leona would never touch loan sharks! You've got the wrong person!"
"Contract's got her signature and thumbprint. You don't get to decide." He stepped closer, breath foul in my face. "Seventy grand with interest. Three days. Cash. If you can't pay..."
His eyes turned slick with something ugly. "Either the diner covers it, or you work it off at our club. That face could fetch a decent price."
"Get out!" Fury drowned the fear. I raised the bat. "This is extortion! Even if she borrowed money, you can't pull this! Get out, or I'm calling the cops!"
"Cops?" He turned to his crew, laughing. "This bitch says she's calling the cops!"
His face went savage. He lunged, ripped the bat from my hands, and hurled it down the stairwell.
"Guess you need a lesson in how we do business!" He shoved past me, the pack stampeding into the apartment.
"What are you doing! Get out!" I screamed, tried to pull him back. One of them shoved me hard.
"Back off, bitch!"
They tore through the place like wolves. Ripping cushions, smashing dishes.
"Stop! You bastards! Stop!" I threw myself at the one shredding the couch.
"Get lost!" He swung. His arm cracked across my shoulder. I flew backward, skull slamming into the armrest.
Nausea rolled through me. I hit the floor gasping. Warm liquid trickled down my temple, dripped onto my lashes, turning the world blood-red.
They closed in, grinning, reaching for my clothes—
The leader flew backward. Matteo burst through with Luca and suited security.
"Who... who the fuck are you? Sticking your nose in our business?"
Luca's hand chopped down on the bald guy's neck. He crumpled like wet cardboard, hit the floor with a scream. The others went for their weapons.
"Move and see what happens." Luca's gun aimed dead center at Baldy's forehead. The guards behind him drew in unison.
"Who sent you?" Matteo's voice was ice.
"Our... our boss! We're just... just doing our job!" Baldy blubbered, snot and tears streaming. "Please... mercy!"
"Boss?" Matteo's laugh was cold. He glanced at Luca.
Luca raised a blade. Light gleamed off the edge.
"Matteo, don't!"
I dragged myself up, stumbled over, and grabbed his arm with both hands.
"Matteo, stop!" My voice shook. "They're scum, but we don't know the whole story yet. Don't... don't kill anyone."
"Let go, Rachel." His jaw was rigid. "Close your eyes. It'll be quick."
"No!" I held tighter. "Give them to the police. Please."
Matteo stared at me. His chest heaved. Slowly, the violence in his eyes banked.
"Drag them out." His voice was flat. "Have their boss bring the contract himself. Leave two men to clean this up."
"Yes, sir."
Just Matteo and me left. My adrenaline crashed. My legs gave out. He caught me, half-carried me to what was left of the couch.
I sagged against him. His scent—cold wood and tobacco—wrapped around me, impossibly grounding.
"You..." My brain finally kicked back online. "How did you even know to come here?"
Matteo looked down at me, his arms tightening like he wanted to fuse me to him. Then his mouth quirked, just barely.
"Because I've got superpowers, sweetheart." His voice dropped, that deep rumble somehow teasing. "You're in trouble, I know."
I blinked up at him, caught between laughing and crying, wondering if I'd actually hit my head too hard to be hearing this man—this block of black granite—say something like that. He cupped my face, suddenly serious.
"So remember this, Rachel." Quiet, but heavy. "Next time, don't handle it alone. You can wait for me. I'll come."
He pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed gently at the blood on my temple. My nose stung. Tears threatened.
"Thank you, Matteo."
He paused. Looked up. "That's it?"
"What?"
"I said," he leaned in, "that thank you lacks sincerity."
"Then... what do you want?" Heat flooded my face.
A quiet laugh from above. Matteo caught my chin, forced me to meet his eyes, then pinned me against the couch. Before I could gasp, he was on me, mouth claiming mine—hot, demanding, absolute. When he finally let me breathe, I was dizzy.
"Now I've received your thanks, sweetheart."
All my blood rushed to my face, burning. I gaped at him, heart slamming against my ribs like a caged animal, couldn't form a single coherent word.
"But tonight you're coming with me." Matteo didn't wait for an answer. He scooped me up and strode toward the door.
"Where? I can't leave... if Leona comes back..."
"Those men just left," he said, no room for argument. "Your door's broken, your place is trashed. You're not staying here alone."
"But..."
"My people are here. Leona comes back, I'll bring her to you myself."
I looked around—broken door, wreckage everywhere, repairs would take all night. And he was right. His men would protect Leona if she returned. I relaxed and let him carry me to the car.
When the elevator doors opened to his place, I felt like I'd crossed into another life.
"Meow—"
A gray blur shot toward us. Cassius rubbed against my ankles, purring.
My strung-out nerves finally unwound at the sight of that furball. I scooped him up, buried my face in his soft fur, and inhaled deeply.
Matteo let me huff Cassius's belly, disappeared into another room, and returned with a first aid kit.
"Sit on the couch."
He knelt in front of me, opened the kit, and cleaned the dried blood from my forehead with an alcohol swab.
"Ah—" I hissed as it stung.
"Hold still." His jaw was tight, but his touch gentler. "Any signs of concussion, we're going to the hospital."
After tending my head, he grabbed bruise ointment, rolled up my sleeve, and worked it into the purple marks on my arm. His calloused fingertips moved in slow circles, pain and strange tingling mixing together until I couldn't look at him.
"About Leona..."
"Luca's already on it." His tone was soothing. "I'll handle the loan sharks. As for finding Leona... Rachel, trust me. I'll bring her back."
I watched him, his face so earnest. I'd seen him command, seen him ruthless and cold. But this—careful and solemn—this was new.
"Thank you..." I choked up. I had nothing else to offer.
"I don't accept verbal thanks." He stood, pulled me and the cat both off the couch. "Now go shower. Then sleep."
That night Matteo didn't go to his study. After his shower, he lay down beside me.
Deep in the night, I fell into a nightmare. I stood in endless darkness. Leona, covered in blood, stared at me hollow-eyed, repeating, "Don't come looking for me." Then Baldy's face loomed huge, swinging the bat at my skull.
"No! Leona!"
I jolted awake, screaming, drenched in sweat.
Strong arms wrapped around me from behind.
"Shh... It's over, Rachel. I'm here."
Matteo's voice, low and rough in the dark. He pulled me back against him, lips brushing my hair, then my forehead, kissing away the cold sweat at my temples.
His solid body held me tight, one hand patting a steady rhythm on my back. Listening to his heartbeat, my breathing slowed. I closed my eyes, let myself sink into that familiar scent, into this fleeting, absolute safety he gave me, and fell asleep wrapped around him.