“You knew he would come for me.”
“To get to me, yeah.”
“Why does he want to get to you?”
Shit.
This was a murky area.
Even mafia wives didn’t know the exact details of what went down. It protected them. But, yeah, it also protected their men. So I damn sure couldn’t tell Steph, who I wasn’t even dating.
That said, after what she’d been through, I felt like I owed her something.
“I had a run-in with him and his buddy a while back. Took back what they took from me. He’s clearly got some feelings about it.”
“Enough to kill you? And me?”
“Seems like it.”
“Did you kill him? I heard a scream.”
“Wish I did,” I said. “But no. Hurt him. But that won’t keep him down forever.”
“Have you killed people?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I had to.”
“Had to,” she repeated.
“If it’s gotta be someone, it ain’t gonna be me.”
She watched me for a long moment before giving me a small nod, as if she understood, like she knew that if she was pushed into a corner, she would fight her way out with fists and nails and teeth.
Everyone would.
It was survival instinct.
“Do you think he’s going to come back for us?”
“Maybe.” He absolutely was going to. I just didn’t want to freak her out.
“Where are we?”
“Safe house.”
“It smells funny.”
“Yeah. Seems like it’s been closed up for a while. But it’s got everything we need. Here, roll onto your back for me,” I said, loosening up the blanket so she could move.
“Why?”
“Wanna make sure the rest of you is pink,” I said.
There was a dubious lift to her brows.
