“I’m obsessed with Breaking Bad right now. Do you like it?” she asks.
“I don’t know it. What’s it about?”
“Good guy who gets cancer, and starts dealing drugs to take care of his family.”
The word cancer, along with Gallo’s warnings about Kayden being a “kingpin,” axe that idea for me. “Not my thing. Any chance they have Friends reruns?”
“Oh, I love Friends! And they do have it.”
She flips to the show and we alternate talking, watching TV, and playing tic-tac-toe for hours, and still there’s no word from Kayden and Adriel. By ten, Giada’s fallen asleep on the couch, and I’m in a chair next to her scribbling butterflies in my journal when my phone finally rings. Giada jerks to a sitting position as I check the ID.
“Hi, Adriel,” I say, disappointed it’s not Kayden.
“Come to the front door.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong. Just come downstairs. And bring your coat.”
“Where’s Kayden?”
“Just come downstairs,” he repeats irritably.
“What about Giada? She’s with me.”
“Just you.”
He ends the call and I frown.
“Well?” Giada prods.
I stand. “He wants me downstairs. Just me. Not you.”
“Nothing surprising there,” she quips. “That’s all he said?”
“Yes. That’s it.”
“That’s curious.”
“Yes, it is. I need to grab my coat.”
“I’m going down to talk to my brother.” She rushes away.
Uneasy, I walk to the bedroom and put on a black trench coat that is once again Chanel, which tells me there must be a Chanel store nearby. I pop another pain pill, grab my purse and cross it over my shoulder, and stop in front of the drawer I swore I wouldn’t open. For reasons I can’t explain, I’m nervous with Adriel again.
Where’s Kayden? His absence makes no sense. I’m worried about him. And I’m worried about me, too. I open the drawer and grab the gun, placing it in my purse and heading for the door.
sixteen
Nervous energy shoots adrenaline through me, and I all but run down the stairs to jab at the button to the dungeon door separating me from the main foyer. It opens and I cut under it before it fully rises, to find Adriel waiting for me by the door and Giada nowhere in sight. “What’s going on?”
“Let’s walk and talk.”
I wet my suddenly dry lips, noting he now has on a black jacket, when he’d left without one. He also killed two men less than a week ago. “Walk?” I ask.
“Yes. Walk. Cars are hell to drive in this neighborhood.” He opens the door, motioning for me to exit, and while he seems more agitated than dangerous, at least for the moment, my hand settles on top of my purse for easy access to my gun.
Moving toward him, I cross the length of the foyer and step onto the porch and into a chilly night, uncomfortably aware of Adriel at my back. I scan my surroundings for potential trouble, finding the castle grounds draped in inky blackness, thunder rumbling from a deep hollow in the sky, promising yet another storm. The door shuts and I face Adriel. “Where’s Kayden? Is he still in jail?”