I rushed directly behind him, scanning the streets in search of any vehicles. The area held mostly warehouses, several of whichwere deserted and had been for years. With light traffic and no sign of any approaching vehicles, whoever had made the mistake of attempting criminal activity would regret it.
Zorro jumped onto someone, pitching them backward. This time his single woof couldn’t hide the squeal of surprise from whoever he’d been determined to visit.
The voice was decidedly female.
Donatello skidded to a stop, immediately lowering his weapon given he had a much better view of the visitor.
I was more cautious, refusing to believe anyone was out walking this time of morning and in this neighborhood.
“Oh, you sweet baby. You’re such a sweet boy. Who are you? Are you lost?”
Her voice stopped me in my tracks, the kindness and joyful lilt catching me off guard. While I lowered my weapon, I refused to put it away. Not until I knew for certain what we were dealing with.
The woman’s delight quickly shifted into anxious concern when she finally noticed my approach. That’s the moment Zorro decided to drag his huge tongue across her face, catching her mouth. She laughed nervously, but her eyes had already locked onto mine.
And her gaze had fallen at least once to the gun in my hand.
I took a deep breath, studying her intently. Wearing a ball cap, only a wisp of hair by her ear gave away the dark color. My initial thought was that this was my lost angel. Yet this girl had a slight accent, the inflection entirely different. And there was absolutely no recognition in her eyes. She was also wearing abulky sweatshirt and jeans, tennis shoes completing her very casual outfit.
Hiding her figure.
Sunglasses hid a portion of her face.
“Is… Is this your dog?” she asked, her chest rising and falling while her lower lip trembled. She reached out and instantly Zorro was thrilled by her presence. She cooed as he whined, the two of them getting along famously.
Donatello continued his approach from the side, which caught her attention. She took a step backward while looking between us. My baby boy now had his huge paws on her shoulders, walking with her as she took yet another step further away, almost tripping off the sidewalk.
“Zorro. Off.” My command was obeyed instantly, the pup dropping onto all fours. Without being asked, he eased down on his haunches, staring up at the incredibly beautiful girl.
The term natural beauty came to mind. With her faded jeans with holes in the knees, her appearance indicated she couldn’t be more than twenty-one. Yet there was a hardness in her expression as if either an old soul or someone who’d been hurt multiple times.
With Zorro offering her breathing room, she took in her surroundings.
Including being able to see the five men on their knees with their hands behind their heads.
Fucking fantastic.
At least one of my men had his weapon out. Whether or not she could see in detail what he was holding was something I should ask. There couldn’t be a worse scenario than for someone to have an opportunity to study my methods of handling difficult issues.
She was tense, studying me carefully. I had a desire to rip off her sunglasses, but what good would that do? My angel had been wearing a mask the entire time. Hell, I think I’d even fallen asleep and she’d still been wearing it. More dangerous games.
If this were the old days, what she’d seen would be considered enough for a permanent change in her life. However, killing innocent people wasn’t in my repertoire of tricks.
Exhaling, I nodded to Donatello, an indication to disperse the group. I’d been careless. His eyes opened wide, curious as to how I’d handle the situation.
“I’m sorry,” she offered, nervously tucking the stray strand of hair behind her ear. “The bus brought me here, but I don’t think I’m in the right place.”
She was very anxious, which I couldn’t blame her for being. I slipped my weapon into my jacket and when I walked closer, the highly intelligent girl took a step backwards.
Goddamn it. Her lips. I kept concentrating on them. Were they slightly swollen from the kisses of the night before?
As with learning about Sergio, this was just another situation I didn’t need or want.
I stopped, still scanning the perimeter. While my instinct told me otherwise, it was entirely possible she’d been sent in to distract me. Much like the night before. Maybe the delivery assholes had used the time to scour the area.
Slung over her arm was a ratty looking duffle bag, the type several of my men used when carrying their weapons. Hell, I had two in my closet. Perfect size for ballet gear.
Her accent was light but discernable. Italian. Would the Russos be that stupid?
