“Dormi, fiore mio,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”
My brain tried to stay awake, but it smelled nice here. The last thing I heard was the door closing on another rumbling yowl. I inhaled leather, smoke, and musk. This was the place where a monster laid his head. Nothing would touch me here.
***
The bark of a rough curse sent me shooting straight out of a dreamless sleep. I blinked into the dark, knowing instinctually that it was daytime, but those blackout curtains hid the sun.
I pushed out of the covers as more curses, bumping, and thumping made a jilted symphony beyond the door. Pieces of last night formed in a scattered series of scenes. There was softness and nostalgia. That mixed with numbness and terror.
A long string of Italian filtered through the door.
Whoever was out there called someone’s mother a whore, their ‘bowels infected with worms,’ and a cursed the lineage of their ‘gangrenous ballsack offspring.’
It wasn’t Vincenzo, but the tonewas familiar.
Opening the door, I peeked out. The space was an open loft. Industrial black metal trimmed roughhewn wood accents, and red-stained brick filled the primary space.
Bill scrambled around the back of a couch, the one and only piece of furniture. There was no kitchen table, not even a coffee or side table. The residence felt oddly empty. But not lonely. It seemed to be…waiting.
My random musings were cut short as a yowl broke through the space. A flicker of grey shot across the floor. Before I realized what the whizzing ball of fur was, it launched itself at me. I yelped, but instinct took over, and I caught the animal. It burrowed its little head in the crook of my arm, hiding and silently asking me to protect it.
“That fiend—” Bill pointed his finger at me “—stole my Egg McMuffin!”
I rubbed my fingers along the cat’s spine. From under the sleek, warm fur, a gentle purring began. The wee beast sounded triumphant.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded, staring the Made Man down. “And where’s Vincenzo?”
Bill planted himself in the middle of the loft, chest rising and falling as he sniffed loudly. “After running errands all night, which included paying for your uneaten breakfast, I ask one thing!” Bill raised his hands to the heavens. “I just want a moment’s peace to eat!”
I gave him a dry look. “My condolences. Where’s Vincenzo?”
Bill sneezed. “In New York.”
My heart pattered in a sad rhythm. “Oh.”
“Your shit’s over there. I’m going to go get some more food. What do you want?” Bill pulled his keys from his pocket, rubbing his red, watering eyes with his other hand.
“I’m not hungry,” I said as my stomach pinched in protest. “And why are my things here?”
I moved farther into the loft, seeing my laptop bag and suitcase piled by the door. A stone settled in my gut. This was not how things were supposed to go. I needed to divorce my unwanted husband and invest my time escaping another equally bad marriage.
They say the devil you know isbetter….
I shoved that observation down. It was too complicated to stay attached to Vincenzo Messina, even if everything else in my life wasn’t a complete and utter clusterfuck.
“You’re staying here.” Bill’s answer dripped with the obvious.
“I am not!” Even as I said it, a part of me protested. “I have things to do.”
The henchman opened his mouth to speak, sneezed three times, then wiped his nose on a cotton handkerchief.
“What does it matter?” Bill grumped. “No one will touch Vincenzo’s girl. You’ll be safe here.”
Safe…warm. Comfortable.
Those three things made it so I had the best night’s sleep in ages. They fueled the part of me that wasn’t in a hurry to leave.
“That’s reasonable,” I conceded. “But only until he finds out if the attack last night was a hit on me.”
