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“What else?”

“He…threatened Red. Said if we didn’t agree to work for him that he’d make an example out of us. Said he’d give us a little sample.” Her watery gaze meets mine. “She got the brunt of it. I was lucky. He only had them break one of my fingers and toss me around a bit.”

I can only guess what he did to Red to make a point. From what I heard; Red was a force to be reckoned with. If there’s one thing Wolfe hates more than us, it’s a strong woman.

“He had to know you were near the final location,” she muses. “Told me that I needed to be in and out. But the man at the house knew I was coming.”

“Where is the house?”

She rattles off an address, and I fucking laugh.

“He had you break into Woodcutter’s house.”

“I’m sorry.Who?”

“Woodcutter. Used to work for Midas before he retired.”

“Midas.” Her mouth opens. “Oh my god, you really are in the Mafia.”

“You doubted me before?”

“I mean, I hoped you were kidding.”

“And why is that?”

“Isn’t the Mafia supposed to be super secretive?” At my nod, she bites her lip. “So I’m dead either way.”

“Let me ask you something. Are you planning on running to the cops and ratting on us?”

“No.”

“Are you going to go to the media and tell them all about our secret lair?”

“Hadn’t planned on it.”

“Then we’re not going to plan on killing you. Plenty of people know who and what we are. Others just choose to ignore what is right in front of their face.”

She’s unusually quiet before nodding. “Okay. Good.”

“Are you going to let me patch you up now?”

Because the wound on her shoulder has soaked through her sweater.

She glances down. “Yeah, I guess. I don’t have a bra on.”

My dick twitches, but I shrug. “Won’t bother me if it doesn’t bother you.”

“Okay. Let’s do this.”

I admire how brave she is.

“Let’s go up to my room.”

She snorts. “I knew that bedroom floor was clean enough to eat off. Or, in this case, do surgery on.”

She’s not wrong there. We reach my room and I direct her to take off her shirt and then to sit on the corner of my bed. She does as I say, her cheeks bright red. She holds her sweater over her breasts, as if to shield herself from me.

“This is going to sting a little. I’ll have to stitch the front and back.”


Tags: Sarah Bale Romance