Page 25 of Heaven Help Me

The door bangs open suddenly and I nearly jump out of the chair. It’s a testament to his fatigue that Dad doesn’t even stir. Anger courses through me, along with a healthy hit of adrenaline. I am harboring a wanted woman, after all.

But it’s Valentina who fills the doorway, not an oblivious nurse or a dangerous goon from New York.

She’s got her knife in hand, her feet in a wide stance like she’s ready to fight to the death. She’s also dressed in a white coat and pale green scrubs. Clearly she’s stolen a disguise.

“What the actual fuck, Valentina?” I whisper-yell.

Her wide eyes dart around the room before settling on my father. Her head tilts to the side and she straightens, like she intends to walk over to his bedside. I step in front of her, blocking her line of sight.

“I’ll only ask one more time,” I bite out, voice low and menacing. I’ve let her into my house and my business, but I refuse to let her infiltrate my father’s life. He’s had to deal with Bettina and all her bullshit way too much already. “What are you doing here?”

She points the knife at me and then around me. “What the hell is this?”

My fingers circle her wrist and hold the knife away from me. The Lord and I both know she can’t be trusted with that thing.

“I asked first,” I respond petulantly.

She rolls her eyes, but lets me take the knife from her hand. When I give it back with a cocked eyebrow, she slides it under her pant leg and secures it God knows where. She lifts her nose in the air and tries to look confident. She’s not meeting my gaze, the only tell that I’ve got her on her back foot, scrambling to make sense of what’s going on.

“I followed you.”

CHAPTER TEN

Valentina, AKA Landry

I watch Deuce leave out the back door of Saint’s Suits while I pretend to dial another vendor. Honestly, I have a headache already and I’ve only been here a few hours. I’m not sure civilian work is for me after all. I’m better at money laundering, smuggling narcotics, and breaking fingers to get what I want. It’s just hard to put that on a résumé in corporate jargon, you know?

As soon as he’s out the door, I hop to my feet and crack the door open. He turns the corner at the end of the alley and I slip outside, footsteps silent as I follow him. I have to wait behind the corner of the alley while he gets in his car and backs out of the parking space. He waves at someone walking by.

“God, he’s such a small-town guy now,” I mutter to myself.

As soon as he turns the car down the street, I rush out from my hiding place and try to keep pace along the sidewalk. It’s actually not hard. The Square is packed with college students and locals alike heading to and from lunch at the various restaurants. It’s easy to blend in, thanks to the floral skirt and pastel top I’m wearing. I pull my hair out of the slicked-back ponytail and try to fluff it out into something similar to the college students.

Deuce has been acting squirrelly, ever since I told him about my little panic attack issues. I have a sinking feeling he’s telling my secrets to someone. Keeping tabs on me. Hell, maybe he’s even been compromised by whomever is trying to take over the Barzettis.

And I don’t fucking like it.

He guns his car as soon as the road clears a bit just outside the Square. I have to almost run to keep up at this point, cursing under my breath about my lack of a vehicle. I feel stranded without wheels or anyone to call. I’m just about to resort to an all-out sprint when a black crossover SUV pulls up beside me, driver’s side window rolled down.

“Landry? Everything okay?”

I turn, trying to keep one eye on the direction Deuce is headed. Betsy has her arm out the window, leaning out to address me. She’s frowning.

“Hey, Betsy!” I say brightly, pasting on a smile.

“Need a ride?”

I make a quick calculation in my head and decide to try to trust someone I barely know. It could go south quickly, but Betsy’s pregnant and way shorter than me. I’m fairly confident I could take her in a hand-to-hand-combat situation.

“Yes, actually. You don’t mind?”

She shrugs. “Nope. I was headed home anyway. These ankles are expanding and I have a date with the couch.”

I run around to the other side of the car, but there are large shopping bags in the front seat. I notice Deuce making a turn so far down the street I can barely see him. I don’t have time for Betsy to clear out her passenger seat, so I hop in the back instead, plopping my ass down and slamming the door before I realize there’s a little human in a car seat in the middle of the back seat. She’s staring at me like this thing could go either way. She might giggle or burst out crying, who’s to say?

Betsy, bless her, takes off down the road, casting glances in her rearview mirror. “Harlow Jean, honey. This is Landry.”

I wave at the small human and bark at Betsy to make a right turn at the next street. The little girl’s face starts to crumble. Fuck.