“Then you know what’s at stake here. There’s no room for mistakes when it comes to the Mob.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“What now?”
“The other family that wants the girl dead, are they Bratva, too?”
“Italian Mafia.”
“And you’re going to just give me to either crime family?” she rasped.
“If you don’t turn out to be lying and can pay up to save your ass, I won’t have to. But if you are,
you’ll leave me no choice.”
“I’m not lying, Savage.”
“You’re not telling the whole truth either...Sia.”
Her head jerked toward me. Her jaws clenched, grinding words she wouldn’t be saying.
What else were you fucking hiding, little girl? I held her shoulders, locking my gaze on hers. “This
is your last chance, sugar beau. You sure there ain’t anything else you wanna tell me?”
She was cold, frozen in place, even her eyes suddenly felt lifeless. “Just the location of my car.”
Eight
Sia
“Where am I going to sleep until morning?” It was the least of my concerns, but I asked anyway.
“Right here. In my room,” Savage said as if stating the obvious.
For a second, it got me out of the haze of what might be a concussion and the sickening feeling
induced by the miserable destiny awaiting me. “You don’t have a couch in your room.”
“We don’t need one. You’re sleeping in my bed, sugar beau.” He winked.
I barely stopped an eye roll. “That’s generous. So where are you sleeping?”
He laughed. “You know where. It’s big enough for both of us.”
I took a deep breath. A different approach than a rather direct one could be the answer to make him
stop trying. “I understand that you’re used to girls, especially my age, attracted to the bike and cut, throwing themselves at you, standing in line for you to pick the lucky one that will spend the night in your bed before you toss her the first thing like the condom you’d use. Trust me I get it, the whole bad boy thing. I’d already been a sucker for it and almost lost my life because of it. So believe me when I say, Savage, I am the last girl that will be interested in sharing a bed with someone like you.”
“Well, it’s either my bed or the basement.” He leaned in, touching my hair as if he had a right to it.
“Believe me when I say no one chooses the basement.”
“How are these the only two options available when you have a two-story clubhouse? I’m sure
you can find a better sleeping arrangement. I’m not picky.”
“The second I let you walk out of this room, you’re fair game to every fucker in here. Is that what
