Vincent stood there, flanked by two large guys I’d never seen before. Dante and three more men stood on the sidewalk.
He didn’t smile. “Hello, cousin.”
“Vincent. What the hell—”
He didn’t let me finish. He pushed into the room, knocking me back. I stumbled, ran into the wall, and almost fell onto my butt as he stormed toward the kitchen. The guys followed him inside, ignoring me, and began to tear through Reid’s stuff, ripping paintings off the wall, smashing picture frames, kicking the TV until the picture flickered and died, ripping books off the walls, ripping open couch cushions. I stared in horror and struggled to my feet as Dante stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest.
“We never should’ve sent you here,” he said, his voice soft, almost sad.
“What’s going on?”
“Vincent’s pissed. They found Jarvis’s body out in the county, and you know what sort of trouble that causes? Philly cops, they’re bought and sold, but county cops are different.”
“This is about Jarvis? But he’s dead, he can’t cause more problems.”
“He already caused enough.” Dante sighed and rubbed his temple. “Maybe it’s my fault. I tried to talk him out of it. I told him this wasn’t the goddamn Dark Ages where you can marry off a daughter or a sister like they were cattle, but he didn’t listen. He thought the old ways could still work.”
“Dante?” My voice was shaking and I felt fear spiking all through me. “What’s going on?”
“It’s over, Cora. Sorry.”
Vincent came stomping back. “Where is he?” he snapped.
“I don’t know.” I shook my head, panicking now, unable to help it. Two guys shoved past me and went upstairs with Vincent on their heels. I heard them breaking things, smashing glass, snapping furniture and wood. I wanted to scream as several of the dresses Reid had bought me came flying out of my room and fell into the hallway in tatters.
“The more you help us, the easier it’ll be on you,” Dante said. “Not that we really blame you, of course, but someone’s got to be punished for this shit, you know? The city needs a sacrifice. It always does.”
“What the hell are you talking about? Sacrifices? Dark Ages?” I stared at Dante and wanted to shake him. “What’s happening?”
“I told you, this is done, you’re leaving Reid. Either you’re going to pay for what happened or he is, but either way, the city gets its pound of flesh.” He moved closer to me, his voice pitched softer. “A little piece of advice: when I grab you, don’t struggle, and don’t scream. It’ll only piss him off more.”
I stared at him, mouth hanging open. He smiled, almost apologetic—
Then grabbed my arm in an iron grip.
My first instinct was to fight. I didn’t know I had that in me. Every other time I’d been faced with something like this, I’d curled up and frozen like a scared baby deer—but now, faced with the prospect of being dragged away by these mobsters, by Dante himself, I wanted to claw someone’s eyes out.
I managed to pull it back. He wrenched my arm behind my back and I let out a gasp of pain. He whispered an apology, but didn’t let up as he shoved me against the wall.
Loudly, he said, “Where’s Reid?”
“I don’t know.”
He pushed harder. I cried out in pain. “Where. Is. He?”
“I don’t know!”
He relaxed his grip, apologized again. “Come on,” he said louder, and yanked me from the wall.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Don’t worry. It’s a nice hotel.”
One of the thugs laughed as he knocked the TV off its stand. Sparks flew up into the air as the rest of the screen shattered into pieces.
Dante dragged me from the house. I caught one last glimpse of Vincent standing up at the top of the steps, looking livid, his face red, his eyes wide. I stumbled down the stoop and into the afternoon light, but nobody seemed to notice the fact that Dante had my arm in a death grip, or nobody seemed to care. He opened the back door to a black SUV and shoved me inside.
“The worst is over,” he said. “Stay there, don’t make noise, and you’ll be fine. We’re going to the mansion.”
Then he slammed the door and leaned up against it, arms crossed over his chest.
I sat in the back seat hyperventilating.
It was over, it was over, and Vincent was ripping apart Reid’s house. Just when we’d finally decided that we were going to do something about all the simmering need and desire between us—it was over.
All because of that bastard Jarvis. All because of this damn city.
It took and it took, and it gave me nothing back.
They never did.
Vincent and the other thugs finished a few minutes later. They piled out and got into the cars. I was pinned between two of them, one smelling like trash, the other leering with me. Dante got behind the wheel, and Vincent sat in the passenger side seat. He turned around to stare pure hate at me.