Mac couldn’t believe Tony hadn’t changed it by now. The fact that he hadn’t was both creepy and confusing.
Closing the door behind her, she headed back downstairs to the one room she came here to see. Her uncle’s office.
Not surprising, she found the office locked. Not a problem since the set of keys Henry’d given her included a skeleton key that opened every room in the house. Mac recognized its unique shape from the times her uncle had used it in front of her.
Still dark and ominous, the room seemed smaller than she remembered but no less scary. Deep inside, Mac understood it wasn’t the room itself that was evil. Only the happenings that had taken place here.
Some of the events she knew about from spying and listening through the closed door. After that day at the dealership, Mac had become much more in tune with her surroundings. Watching and listening to everything she possibly could.
She’d heard shady business deals go down with some of the local politicians and cops. Hits ordered or stays of execution, depending on the offender’s response to Tony’s threats via Luca and some of the other guys she’d seen coming and going on the property.
The worst memory from this room, however, hadn’t been something she’d overheard by pressing an ear to the other side of the locked door. It was what had happened while she was inside the room, the night of her sixteenth birthday.
She glanced over to her uncle’s desk, her eyes immediately landing on the silver letter opener lying in the middle of the desk. With its long, razor-sharp end and the handle’s ornate, vintage design, it should be considered a thing of beauty.
To Mac, it was a weapon that had saved her from an unthinkable horror.
“Brings back a lot of memories, doesn’t it?”
On reflex, Mac pulled her gun from her waistband and spun to face the intruder.
“Whoa. Easy there, killer.” Luca raised his hands lazily.
Experiencing the most horrifying case of déjà vu ever, Mac kept her gun trained on him. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to get the rest of my things like you asked. Remember?”
Coop cursed in her ear. “Mac, where are you? Who’s with you?”
“And your things are in my uncle’s office, Luca?” She spoke to the man she was facing, answering Coop’s questions at the same time.
“Copy you loud and clear, sweetheart,” Coop responded to her hidden message. “Trevor and I are on the backside of the property, but we’re on our way.”
Unknowingly, Luca began talking over him. “No. I got my stuff from here yesterday after we spoke. I was at my apartment and remembered I still had a few things in the spare bedroom I was using upstairs. I wanted to come get them before you found them and tossed them out with the trash.”
I’d like to throw you out with the trash.
“Cut the crap, asshole. You came for the money, right? That’s why you’re really here, isn’t it?”
“Money?” His brow furrowed as he took a step closer. “What money?”
“Don’t come any closer.”
He stopped. “Seriously, Abigail. Stop acting like a maniac and put the gun away.”
“It’s Mac, you arrogantprick.You know, as in McKenna? Abigail Moretti ceased to exist the day I left this hellhole.
Luca smiled. “You always were a tough little cookie.” His eyes burned into hers. “All warm and sweet.” His eyes ran slowly down her body. “Good enough to eat, if memory serves me correctly.”
“What the fuck?” Coop’s growl filled her ear.
Mac worked to keep her gun steady as she took a step toward Luca. “How would you know? You never got the chance to find out, remember?”
She needed Coop to hear that. Needed him to know she hadn’t given Luca what he’d so desperately tried to take. That she’d fought the bastard off and got away.
“Oh, I remember getting a taste,” Luca continued taunting her. “All sweet with innocence. Salty with fear.”
“And I still remember what it felt like to jab that letter opener into your flesh. To feel your muscle tearing while I twisted its blade as far as it would go.” Mac stepped even closer. “Most of all, I remember how satisfying it was to walk away with your blood on my hands while your screams fell from your pathetic lips.”
