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Blinking I looked up at him and whispered, “I’ve been here before. My parents took Penny and me away. They fled in the dead of night. My parents were running. Running away from her. What is going on Lorenzo?”

He pulled me tighter against him, whispering, “I don’t know baby. I don’t know.”

“Lorenzo. My dad. He was in the military. I remember him saying something about military friends. How is it possible that I don’t remember any of this?”

“You were young baby. Just a small girl.”

“But I have an eidetic memory. I remember everything.”

“I don’t know baby,” Lorenzo said, before kissing my lips lightly. “But I’m going to find out. I promise.”

Twenty-Six

Lorenzo

We had been holed up in this mausoleum for three days before Gideon showed his face and when he did, I punched the fucker in the face, knocking him back against the wall.

“What the fuck is going on here?” I said, grabbing him by his suit jacket and throwing him against one of the entryway pillars. “Donatella’s been here before. She’s freaking the fuck out. You better start talking now.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Are you calling her a fucking liar!” I sneered, punching him in the stomach, then catching him before he could fall to the ground. “I trusted you. You said she would be safe.”

Hitting him again, I didn’t give two shits about myself. This mother fucker was going to pay. I wanted him to feel what my woman felt. The fear, the anxiety, the terror of what I was about to inflict upon him.

“Whoa!” Jonathon shouted as he ran in, grabbing me from behind. “Calm down Lorenzo.”

“Get the fuck off me!” I roared, shaking him off.

For three motherfucking days, I have been on guard for any fucker to come at us. Donatella refused to leave the fucking bedroom, hiding herself in a closet when I left the room to get food.

I had to play mediator for her and her aunt, who she absolutely refused to see. When she told me she didn’t trust the woman, that was good enough for me. I didn’t want to be here anyway. I’d seen some shady shit in my life but this place took the cake.

The house and grounds were secured by men armed to the tee. I know a mercenary when I saw one and every one of those fuckers was a paid hitman. Then there was the fucking staff that ran this mausoleum. If they were actually servants, I would kiss Marko’s hairy ass. Then there was Sylvia St. James herself. The woman was cunning, clever and very dangerous. Oh, she played the concerned and doting aunt perfectly but I knew better. She was hiding something and when I told her that Donatella didn’t want to see anyone, her façade began to drop. I could see the annoyance and aggravation in her eyes. It was a look I was familiar with. My own family had that look when I fucked up, which was often.

Yet this bitch was a master at her disguise. One minute she was sweet as pie. The next she was a viper ready to strike. When I saw her this morning, she flat out told me that Donatella would present herself at dinner tonight or she was going to have someone escort her.

That was five hours ago. It was already after three in the afternoon and I knew that Sylvia would be home within the next hour and I didn’t plan on being here when she arrived.

Walking over to Gideon, I grabbed him again and sneered, “You better get me and Donatella the fuck out of this place before I lose my temper. You know what I can do with a bat. Wait and see what I can do with a gun.”

Shaking me off, Gideon asked, “Where is my mom?”

“In hell if she knows what’s good for her.”

“What is going on?” Jonathon asked, stepping closer.

“You want to know what’s going on? Well, let me enlighten you. My woman has been here before. The second she walked into this fucking place she remembered and it wasn’t pretty. Her parents lived here, with your fucking mother. Then one night, they bolted. Took the girls and fled. What Donatella remembers isn’t good. Since being here, she doesn’t sleep. When she does, she has fucking nightmares that can wake the dead. She doesn’t feel safe here. I want her moved now or I am leaving with her. And if any of those fucking mercenaries even try to stop me, you will have fucking dead bodies littering your pristine yard. Got me asshole.”

“Wait a minute,” Gideon said, holding up his hand. “What mercenaries?”

“Are you fucking blind!” I roared. “Every fucking man around here is a trained killer.”

“No, they’re not. They work for my mother’s charity, Sunshine Kids. They are her security team.”

“And you vetted them?” I asked blankly.

“No. My mother did.”


Tags: Rebecca Joyce Crime