It said a lot that she felt comfortable opening up like that. This situation hadn’t set her as far back as I was worried it would.
Maybe the reason for that was as obvious as the body on the floor. Josh could never hurt her again. She was free. To be who she wanted. To date who she wanted. To think and feel and say what she wanted.
“I understand that,” I agreed. “I was just… trying to protect you.”
“And by doing that, you make it sound like I’m too weak to handle what is going on.”
“Probably not my fucking business, but there was some truth to that for a while, wasn’t there?” Salvatore piped in, putting Wren on the spot, leaving me torn between my desire to defend my sister and be pleased by his desire to defend me.
“No, that’s fair,” Wren said, nodding. “It’s really only been the past two weeks or so that I’ve started to feel more like my…” she trailed off as the front door slammed hard, making Salvatore reach for his gun as he turned.
But then there he was.
A man dressed all in black with booties on his shoes and gloves on his hands.
“Silvano,” Salvatore greeted him by giving him a nod.
Silvano was younger than Salvatore, likely somewhere between Anthony and Cesare’s age, with appealing olive skin, rugged bone structure, stormy blue eyes, and an extremely tall and very thin body type.
His hair was covered in a knitted cap, but I would bet it was black or very dark brown, judging by his skin tone and brows.
His dark blue gaze moved across the room, taking in the body, the blood, the knife, and me, then looking back at Salvatore.
“Not bad. This will be relatively easy. Get the girl who isn’t bloody out,” he said, seeming to mean Wren.
“Ah, no. She’s not going anywhere without me,” I objected.
His gaze slid to me, a brow raised.
“You’re asking a favor and giving me shit?” he asked, his rough voice raked over me, making me feel like he’d grated me.
“Hey, easy,” Salvatore snapped. “They’re sisters,” he explained.
“No shit,” he said. “But they’re not fucking conjoined. They can move independently of each other, can they not?”
“It’s fine. Really,” Wren said, slowly getting to her feet, wincing a bit as some bruises twinged her. “Where do I go? Just outside?” she asked.
“My car is near the end of the driveway. Get yourself in and lock the doors. We should be fine, but just for your own peace of mind. Oh, and grab your sister’s purse off the—“
“Already got that,” Silvano interjected. “It’s in my car. You can take it out,” he added. “But before you go, did you go anywhere else in the house? Upper or lower floors?”
“No. Just in his trunk, then dragged through the lower level until we got to the kitchen,” Wren said, tone very matter-of-fact.
I had a feeling she would break down again later, but like me, she was operating in survival mode at the moment.
“Okay. You can go,” Silvano said, dismissing her as he put a giant duffle bag onto the counter and started to unzip it.
“Is he always so pleasant?” I grumbled at Salvatore as my baby sister hobbled her way to the door.
“Hey, you’re the one asking favors of me. Don’t think I need to be Prince fucking Charming about it,” Silvano said, shrugging, as he whipped out bottles of unmarked cleaners, placing them on the island.
“Silvano is part of the Family,” Salvatore explained.
“Step-child of the Family, more like,” Silvano supplied as he pulled out the biggest black garbage bag I’d ever seen.
“You were raised in the fucking Family. Stop being such a dick for five minutes, would you?” Salvatore snapped. “Anyway, Silvano has some specialized skills that come in handy in situations such as this.”
“Iron-clad stomach and a hand mixing fun chemical cleaners,” Silvano explained.