Page 229 of Safe Word

The air was damp, clinging to my skin as I adjusted my leather jacket.

A shiver ran through me, the lingering sting of winter still biting at the edges of the season. It was gnawing – the thought of Cain out there in the dark with Travis running amok.

I had a feeling that this night was spiralling – fast – and I was walking right into that shitstorm.

Chiesa di Santa Lucia, small enough to be mistaken for an afterthought in the wake of Rome’s grander cathedrals, sat nestled in its quiet corner like a relic too stubborn to fade. Its weathered stone façade, pockmarked with time, bore the weight of whispered prayers and broken promises – the sort of place where sinners might come to pretend they weren’t.

I leaned against the tattered walls, the rough texture pressing cool against my spine. Tourists passed without a second glance at the humble structure, their eyes drawn to Rome’s more ostentatious displays of piety.

I exhaled slowly. The weight in my chest refused to lift. The wrongness in the air slithered up my spine and felt like a stain bleeding into fabric. Rome was always alive, always humming with movement, but tonight, it felt like the city was holding its breath.

Well, this was probably stupid. But Travis had no way of knowing where my uncle lived, and no way of finding that information. I was careful, and he wasn’t very good with technology. Maybe in jail he could have learnt more?

It’s been a couple of years since I’d last seen him, after all.

My gaze snapped to a passer-by, scanning his face. Every strong jawline, every blue gaze, every shadowed figure moving through the lamplight twisted into his face.

I blinked away the mirage – just strangers. Nothing more.

And yet, my pulse didn’t believe that. It hammered like an animal sensing a flood and wanting to be let loose.

Yanking my phone from my pocket, I called Cain. No answer. I tried again. Still nothing. It was a toss-up whether he had even taken the damn thing with him.

I clenched my jaw, rolling my shoulders, trying to shake the unease, but it only settled heavier. And then it hit me – why my stomach had been in knots this whole time.

My purse.

I didn’t bring it.

My gun? Inside it.

A slow anger began to simmer in my gut.

What the hell was I thinking?

A lifetime of instincts, of knowing better, and I’d waltzed out here without thinking. Without protection. Without a goddamn plan.

My fingers flexed against my thighs, restless, aching for the weight of steel that wasn’t there. I was exposed. Vulnerable. And if Travis really had been nearby – if my instincts weren’t just playing tricks on me – then I’d made a very, very stupid mistake.

‘Hello there, pretty lady!’

The American voice came out of nowhere, and I damn near jumped out of my skin.

Spinning too fast, I lost my balance, and just as I braced for an embarrassing and painful meeting with the stone pavement – strong hands caught me.

I looked up into warm blue eyes, a knowing smile framed by a freshly shaved jaw. Blond hair was neatly drawn back into a ponytail, not a strand out of place. He smelled like expensive cologne, as always.

‘For the love of God, Vinnie…’ I exhaled, stepping out of his hold, trying to steady my heartbeat. ‘You almost made me pee myself.’

He chuckled as he bent to grab the small duffel he’d dropped when he’d caught me.

‘I’ve had worse effects on women.’ He grinned, cocky as ever. And despite my frayed nerves, his easy-going energy was a welcome reprieve from the day’s tumult.

I rubbed my face, then nodded towards the duffel. ‘Thanks for bringing the stuff at this time of night. Cain will be happy – my brother isn’t the sharing type, and my uncle’s much shorter than him, so he wouldn’t fit in his clothes.’

Vinnie slung the bag over his shoulder, smirking.

‘Everyone is shorter than Cain,’ he quipped. ‘Lead the way, Honey Buns.’