“He doesn’t like it when people go around killing his guys.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not exactlypeople. I’m his best friend. Or haven’t you heard?”
I stare out the window, the old familiar lump rising in my throat. Yes, I have. Ihaveheard that the boy who obsessed over me when we were kids is now best friends with my rapist.
“I thought Damien was your best friend,” I force out.
And that’s not much better, I realize. Damien may not have raped me, but he did push my face into trash in front of the whole class. In a way, I’m glad Logan didn’t return to school after that day, because I’m not sure I could have handled the humiliation of him seeing my fall from grace.
I’d always been popular. I always had so many friends. But the minute Damien emptied a trash can over my head, everything changed.
I became the freak people whispered about. The loser. The bullies’ target. The change was swift and drastic. It happened overnight.
If I were the kind of person who looks for silver linings, I’d find one in the fact that I became pregnant with Aurora. Because it allowed me to drop out, and honestly, the months before Ibegan to show were pure torture.
The thing is, I’m not the kind of person who looks for silver linings.
“I’m sure Carmelo’s going to at least beat the shit out of you,” I grumble, when Logan doesn’t answer. “I can’t wait to see that.”
He smirks, then dials a number on his cell phone, putting it on speaker phone.
“Hey, man.”
“Yo.”
I keep my eyes resolutely turned toward the window, my skin suddenly cold and numb.
“So, did you find my whore of a wife?” asks Carmelo.
“Yup.” Logan’s voice sounds a little strained as he answers. Probably not feeling so calm after all about telling Carmelo what happened, I decide.
But the next second, the strain is gone when he adds, “And I just killed Enzo. Sorry about that.”
“Ah. Damn it.” There’s a long pause, and then Carmelo says, “I guess you had your reasons.”
“I certainly did.”
I roll my eyes, because he definitely didnothave his reasons. But at the same time, the way he shot that guy in cold blood confirms everything I’ve heard about Logan over the years. He’s become a hardened criminal who shoots before talking.
That crew he goes around with—Damien, Igor, Vale—they’re all bloodthirsty. I’ve heard it said that Logan is the kind of person to kill a guy just for staring at him a beat too long. It made me terrified of running into him, but thankfully, even though he goes around with Carmelo, I never saw him.
Until now. Now he’s got me in his hands, and I can’t even understand how I’m still alive.
“Alright. Listen,” continues Carmelo, “I was going to callyou. We’ve got a little situation on our hands. Stefano and Tito got shot last night. They’re dead.”
I sit up, tensing. I know those guys. They’re very high up on the chain, very close to the don, Arsenio Moretti—Carmelo’s father. How the hell did anyone get to them?
“Hmm.” A twitch of Logan’s eyebrow is the only sign that he’s surprised. “Who did it?”
“That’s just what we don’t know. Kinda looks like an inside job. Gotta lay low and figure it out. I’ve never seen my father so nervous.”
“Okay. Do I still bring her to you at the warehouse?”
“I couldn’t wait. I went straight to my mother’s place in Idaho. Can you hold onto her for a few days?”
My eyes widen as Logan lets out a string of curse words. “Fuck, man. I’m not a fucking babysitter.”
“I know that. I’m sorry, man.” I’ve never heard Carmelo apologize before, but hearing him act so differently with Logan is just the tip of the iceberg. I sit up in my seat, clenching and unclenching my hands, trying to figure out if this conversation is good news or bad.
