One of the women moves in front of him and strokes the young girl’s cheek as he holds her. “Katerina,” she whispers. “Hang on,dorogaya devochka.”
“Don’t look at the bodies,” I instruct the women as we lead them through the bloody carnage in the living room and out the front door.
I chuckle as one of the women spits on a body as she passes it. Still a bit of fire left in her. Good, she’s going to need it to heal.
We help them into the SUVs where they’ll be driven to the rendezvous point we set up with Chief Knowles so his men can get them to the safehouse.
Once the SUVs pull away and disappear down the street, I pat Rocco’s back. “Let’s burn this bitch down, brother.”
Chapter19
Lennon
Sunday afternoon I’m getting out of the shower when my phone dings with a text. I barely slept—thoughts of Sandro like a violent hurricane in my mind. It’s all back. All the memories.
Chicken fights in the pool, clinging to his tanned, warm back on ocean jet-ski adventures, balmy nights stolen on the beach, exploring each other's bodies. Two trusting, starry-eyed kids spilling our hopes and dreams, our fears and needs. I feel… entangled again. The memories wrapping around my soul like strings of invisible filament binding us together. The ache, the yearning is painful. I need a distraction.
I dry off and then check my phone.
Sloane:Lunch at Spagos? Brick’s in town.
Perfect. Brick is one of our friends who moved away to New York three years ago to open a restaurant. It’ll be good to see him and give me something to do to get my mind off one infuriatingly hot mobster. I glance over at Pepper who’s watching me from the bed. Guilt for leaving him tugs at me.
Me:Sure but let's do Dry Dock. Bringing the pup
***
Sloane and Brick are already seated out on the patio beside the sparkling water. The sun is brutal, shining on the surface of the Bay like scattered diamonds.
I’m glad I pulled my hair up into a messy bun, because I already feel beads of sweat gathering around my hairline.
“There she is.” Brick’s polished smile and spicy cologne greet me as he stands to wrap me in a hug.
His brown hair is longer, touching his shoulders, and he’s fabulously dressed, as always, but instead of Florida casual chic, he’s in a raw silk white button-down and black slacks. New York’s influence no doubt.
“Who do we have here? Hello, little guy.” He scratches Pepper under the chin with a long, manicured finger.
“A client’s dog.” I give Sloane a squeeze, and then we all sit down. Pepper curls up on my lap. I catch Sloane’s gaze. She’s staring at me like she’s watching me for a breakdown. I quirk an eyebrow at her, and she squirms in her chair.
“I’m fine,” I mouth. She’s probably worried about how I’m dealing with last night. She bites her lip and glances away.Okay, something’s up.I decide to leave it for now. “What brings you home?” I ask Brick.
He folds his elegant fingers together and leans his forearms on the table with a cocky smile. “I’m meeting with a pastry chef who just came over from France. Thinking of backing him for a little dessert bistro downtown.”
“Nice. Does that mean you’ll be coming home more than once a year?” I ask, as the waitress brings glasses of water and menus.
“It would be a good excuse.” He lifts the glass of water to his lips and then pauses. He’s eyeing Sloane, his brows pressed down in concern.
She’s staring at the water, her signature red lips pursed in deep thought.
“So, what have you ladies been up to?” His sunlit eyes narrow and move from Sloane to me.
“Oh, work mostly,” I say, because I don’t want to talk about my failed attempt at having a social life, or anything that has happened in the last few weeks, actually.
Sloane’s gaze meets mine and the concern is so bright, I slap the menu down. “Okay, spill. What’s going on?”
She flinches. Presses her lips together. Then sighs as her shoulders fall. “You haven’t seen the Tampa Times then?”
I blink and stroke Pepper for comfort. I can tell by the pity on her face that whatever is coming will hurt. “No, I haven’t,” I push out, bracing myself.
