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“Do you think that’s a good idea? Do you think she’d want you to place yourself in danger that way?”

“Versus what? Staying here and pretending my life is as perfect as everyone else’s? I’m not going to play house with a nut job, while some drug dealer decides to use my aunt as target practice.”

Sighing, she lowers her head. “You asked him for help?”

“He said … that I was too young for whatever help I didn’t realize I was requesting.”

Gaze still cast from mine, she picks at her thumb, fidgeting. “Then, he told you of our arrangement.”

“In so many words.”

“I’m surprised he denied you.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because he hasn’t touched me since the day you arrived here.”

An agitated laugh escapes me, as I unzip the bag I intend to have packed within the next ten minutes. “I don’t think that has anything to do with me.”

“Maybe not. But as recent as the night before you arrived, he called for me every night. Now, he wants nothing to do with me.”

Called for her? For some reason, all that comes to mind is the scene in Dracula, when Lucy fucks the wolf. “Lucian thinks I’m a child. He treats me like a little girl. An irritating little girl.”

“Well, I’ve seen the way he’s dealt with thieves. The fact that he didn’t fire you tells me he thinks more of you than you probably realize.” Backing away from me, she heads toward the door. “Anyway, I just wanted to check on you. I’ll pray that everything works out in the end.”

“Thanks. But I don’t think God gives a shit about a girl who doesn’t have much faith in prayer.”

“He might surprise you, Isa. They say he works in mysterious ways.”

Mysterious indeed. I couldn’t have guessed when I woke up this morning that I’d be sacrificing myself to the Devil.

Once she’s out of the room, I go back to packing up my clothes. I leave the new wardrobe hanging in the armoire, cringing at the soda-stained shirt. It’s then I realize I forgot to send Aunt Midge a text to come pick me up, with all the Giulia distraction.

“Shit.” When I lift my phone, there’s a text message from her.

Holy shit on a shingle, that was fast!!!!

I frown down at her message and the barrage of exclamations she uses and text her back.

What was fast?

I have to bite my nails to keep from losing my mind, as she takes a turtle’s lifetime to answer, so I shake my head and dial her number instead.

The moment she picks up, I can hear laughter in her voice. “You’re a saint. I’m convinced of it!”

“What are you talking about?”

“He returned your mother, Isa. And apologized on top of it all.”

“Who?”

“Franco.”

Franco? The guy who broke fingers, burned my mother, and threatened to kill both of them Franco? Somehow, I can’t picture an apology in all of that violence. It’s unfitting, only adding to my disbelief.

“He showed up here with that Hawaiian guy, driving a fancy black car. I nearly had a heart attack when he walked up into the yard, but he had your mother with him. She’s a little worse for the wear, looks like they roughed her up most of the night, but she’s going to be okay. She’s resting now.”

Makaio? I pull the phone away to see it’s only been an hour since I left Lucian’s office. “What happened? What did he say?”