“She was with a young man,” The praying Mantis said, looking at his little notepad in his hands. “A boy named Bobby Ray Michaels.”
“The quarterback?”
“Yes.”
“She told me he came by looking for me but I had a paper to write for English Lit. I told her she could have him.” I muttered, trying to comprehend everything going on around me. Nothing made sense. Carrie was popular and everyone liked her. Even Bobby Ray. He may have been a horndog but no one wanted them dead.
None that I could think of.
“Ms. Stevens, I know you are upset but I need to ask you some questions.”
Upset? I wasn’t upset.
I was livid.
Some fucking piece of shit came into my apartment and killed my best friend and the jack-off quarterback. Who the fuck would do that? They were just college students. They didn’t do anything but go to school and party on occasion. They were too damn broke most of the time and they barely had anything worth of value, except their computers. I didn’t own a car and seeing Carrie’s BMW, I knew it wasn’t a robbery.
Scanning the area, I saw several people I knew. Neighbors were outside their apartments or looking out their windows to watch the scene unfold. Several of them were holding up their phones, more than likely recording everything so they could upload it to their Youtube or Twitter accounts.
Fucking bastards.
All of them.
Turning to face the detective, my eyes landed on the two men from campus. Neither of them moved. They just stood there, far enough away from the cops but close enough to see everything. What bothered me the most was that they never took their eyes off me.
Staring back at them, I asked, “How was Carrie killed?”
“Single gunshot to the back of the head. Mr. Michaels was the same.”
“It was an execution.”
“Yes,” the detective replied. “Ms. Stevens, I need you to come down to the police station to fill out a statement. In the meantime, is there somewhere you can stay?”
Nodding, I whispered, “Yeah. I know of a place.”
Four
Lorenzo
I’d been stuck at the compound all weekend, bored out of my mind. Gio was true to his word and to show me he meant business, he had Marko and Enzo babysitting me to make sure I didn’t make a break for it.
I needed to get out of this house.
I was a grown-ass man. I had things to do and people to see. Not to mention, my station chief had been blowing up my phone for the last hour, demanding I get my ass to the station. He wanted me to explain my weekend activities and the arrest.
I don’t know why. It was all over the news. I thought the reporters were dead on. Honestly, they left nothing out.
What more was there to explain?
Antonio was able to keep me out of jail, for which I would be forever grateful. Apparently, threatening the Chicago Police Department with several lawsuits was enough to keep the lead detective from pressing assault charges. Even though I was only defending myself, Antonio didn’t want to hear it. As far as he was concerned, I was guilty and deserved to spend time in jail.
I found it funny how a family that prided itself on family first was the first to condemn me to the wolves. I know I didn’t fit the Valentinetti mold like the others and I’d always gone my own way but damn it, I was still a Valentinetti. It was moments like this I wished Mother was still around.
Our mother and several others died two months ago when the asshat Sabastian Capribella, also known as the Collector, broke into our house to kidnapped Layla and my sister Illyria. It was also the same day I was stabbed and my brother Antonio was beaten within an inch of his life. It was a shit day. One, I tried not to think about.
I missed my mom dearly. It was bad enough my father was dead but now Mom. Yeah, that was a Debbie-downer. I still hadn’t processed her death. Instead, I partied and continued on with my life as if nothing had happened. I stayed away from the compound so I didn’t have to face reality because I couldn’t walk into this house without seeing or hearing my mother. It wasn’t the same. Never would be.
However, now that I was grounded, I had nothing else but time to think.