“I’m so sorry. I had?—”
“No.” His fingers pinch my lips closed. “I’ll hear no more lies.”
Emotion disappears from his face as icy darkness swallows him whole. He’s every bit a dangerous mafia killer when he levels me with a malevolent look that lifts all the fine hairs from my arms. “Get out and stay out. If I see you again, I won’t hesitate next time. Show your face in New York, and you’re dead, Sloane.”
40
SLOANE
Vincenzo volunteered to escort me out of the building, but Cristian assigned John Angelo instead, and I was relieved. I think my other bodyguard might have killed me. John Angelo leads me to a rear exit at the back of the ground-floor parking lot, and apprehension washes over me. Darkness encroaches on the sky overhead as we emerge in an alleyway. Dumpsters overflowing with trash line one side of the grim space while empty crates are stacked in a tall pile on the other side.
“Take this.” John Angelo stuffs a wad of cash in my hand.
I open my mouth to ask why, but movement in the alley traps the words on my tongue. Lights flash from a dark SUV a few feet in front of us, and the terrified scream that rips from my mouth is instinctive.
“Shush, Sloane.” John Angelo clamps a hand over my mouth. “It’s okay. It’s not the cartel. It’s my brother, Rob.”
“Your brother?” I choke out as the driver’s side door opens and a tall, muscular man with cropped dark hair steps out.
“He’ll drive you to the farthest bus station and purchase you a ticket.” John Angelo holds my shoulders in a gentle grasp. “Get far away, Sloane, and keep running. If you’ve crossed the cartel, they won’t stop hunting you. Change your appearance. Get a different ID. Only use cash. Rob will take you to an ATM. Take out everything you can, and then rip up your card. Never stay in the same place for too long, and don’t trust anyone. Do you hear me?”
I nod over the messy ball of emotion in my throat. “Why are you helping me?”
“Because I see what the boss can’t right now.”
Tears well in my eyes. Guess I’m not quite as broken as I thought I was. “I couldn’t do it! I couldn’t do what they asked of me. I love them, John Angelo. It wasn’t fake. It’s real.” The words rush out of my mouth in a desperate plea.
“I know, sweetheart. I know.”
When he hugs me, I have to choke back my tears. I’m literally running for my life now, and I can’t break down. I need to harden my heart and act smart if I’m to survive. “Protect them, please.” I shuck out of his embrace as his brother bends down to retrieve my bag. I have no idea how it even got there, but I’m grateful. “Pablo Fuentes won’t stop trying to hurt Cristian and Elio because of Cruz. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to them.”
“Worry about yourself, Sloane. Cristian has the resources to protect his family. You’re all alone.” He presses my Glock into my hand. “I put extra bullets in your bag. All untraceable. Keep this with you at all times, and don’t hesitate to use it.” A soft kiss lands on my brow. “Good luck, young Sloane. I’m sorry I can’t do more.”
“You’ve done enough.” He’s gone behind his boss’s back, and that could get him killed. “I won’t ever be able to thank you.”
“Thank me by staying alive.” He nods at his brother. “Godspeed, Sloane. Be safe.”
41
CRISTIAN
“Cristian,” Gia calls from the hallway, and I slide off the bed, making my way to the door of her guest bedroom. Elio and I moved here six days ago, fleeing the penthouse the day after the attempted kidnapping and shootout. Gia and Joshua welcomed us into their home until our house is ready. I’ve spoken to the construction crew and told them to move the timeline up. I don’t care what it costs. I just need it ready ASAP. I don’t want my son in the city. It’s too dangerous with the cartel still on the prowl. They won’t get to him here, and it’s the best way of protecting him.
Our guys took three of them out, and Sloane…Sloane killed one of them. I only discovered that truth after I’d kicked her out of my house and my life. Not that it changes anything significantly. My heart still burns with the pain of her betrayal, but she killed him to protect Elio, proving that her feelings for my son were genuine.
I yank the door open. “What’s up?”
“There is something you need to see.” She lifts one shoulder in a gesture for me to follow her. “We’re worried about you,” she adds as we walk side by side along the hallway.
It’s late, and the kids are all asleep, so we talk in hushed whispers.
“Don’t be. I’m fine.”
“You’re not, and no one expects you to be. You don’t have to hide from us, Cristian. We’re all feeling the pain of her betrayal.”
I bark out a bitter laugh as we descend the stairs. “No offense, Gia, but none of you know the sting of betrayal the same way I do.”
“That’s not what I’m saying.” Stopping at the bottom of the stairs, she places her hand on mine. “If we’re feeling this so hard, I can only imagine how much pain you are in. Don’t feel like you can’t let it out, Cristian. It’s not good to let it fester inside.”
