Shock slammed into me. I caught myself before jumping to my feet, but I wasn’t careful enough. Hot liquid sloshed over the rim and burnt my thigh. The bite of pain wasn’t enough to stop my mind racing a mile a minute.
“What does your grandfather want in exchange for that information?” I asked the obvious question, while my mind turned over the list of enemies who would make such an offer. It was longer than I would have liked. Crossing out names would make a bloody mess.
At least the fish would be well fed.
“Oh, not a damn thing.” The wee prince laughed.
I didn’t buy it for a second. “Then why warn me?”
Dominico shrugged. Such a smooth, careless gesture. “I don’t want my grandfather to do anything stupid. It’s bad for business.”
And telling me meant that this family could hold the favor over our heads. As much as I hated it, that was a problem for another day.
“Well, as fun as this has been, I’ve got to run.” Dominico rose, plucked his coffee, and drained it in one go. His face twisted in a grimace, and a full-body shudder rolled through him. “Damn! That’s stronger than I expected. I’ll have to tell that doll outside she makes a mean cup.”
“Do that.”
Dominico paused behind his chair, dangling the empty cup from his fingers. He came from an old family. A verypowerfulorganization. They had the kind of money and influence most people couldn’t dream of.
“You know, for hearing about a death threat, you’re very calm.”
I tapped once on my mask. “Been there. Done that.”
“I suppose you have,” Dominico said after a pause. “Watch your back, devil.”
“Likewise,” I clipped out.
Smirking, the princeling sauntered out. From outside the portable, I heard his booming laughter and Betty’s ancient cackle.
I hung my head, breathing hard.
There was never a pause from the violence. Anxiety crept up my spine, spiderwebbing through my veins. In the distance, I heard a blast. It wasn’t real. The memory of the explosion stole the air from my lungs. Ghostly tendrils of fire licked my body, but I was helpless to move.
Paralyzed.
Doc Ryan said one side effect from the attack would be flashbacks. There was no liquor handy to dull their vise-like grip. I relived the night I nearly burned alive.
I managed to unclench my jaw. I forced the tip of my tongue between my teeth—and bit. Blood spread across my tastebuds. The sting of pain shot through my trauma-induced panic, helping to ground me to reality.
The memory of the explosion faded, but only just. It was there, a constant presence, ready to mock me, reduce me to a pile of shivering goo if I let it.
The knob twisted. The hinges whined. And then, the scent of tobacco wafted into the office.
It took a huge effort to lift my head. The damn thing felt like a bowling ball, and my neck muscles didn’t want to cooperate.
Betty slid a careful look over me as she collected the cups. “Ya know, when someone gives ya a heads up and saves your bleeding life, the Christian thing to do is thank them.”
I scowled at her from under my brows. “Eavesdropping is a sin, old woman.”
Betty tapped her gnarled finger against her nose. “Who wants to kill ya now, lad?”
If the wedding was anything to go by, there were plenty of bloodthirsty killers who held no love for me and my parents.
My fingers shook as I reached for the collar of my shirt. I slid my fingers under the buttons, popping the button at my neck. I only meant to loosen it so the tie didn’t choke me.
But my fingers brushed against the thin metal chain.
The tension in my shoulders eased.
