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“Okay. I’ll wait here for you then.”
He hops over the couch and stalks toward the door. “Lock the door behind me, Madison.”
“On it.” The door closes before I reach it, so I double-check the lock is engaged and head back to the couch and my book.
Twenty minutes go by and Leo’s not back yet. I finish another chapter, and check my phone. No missed calls or texts. I give him another five minutes before I’m going to call. I hate to play that annoying girlfriend card, but my anxiety is swirling around like a tornado in my gut.
My foot taps a quick rhythm as I stare at the clock, watching the second hand tick by without abandon, like my fear isn’t swelling larger and larger with each passing moment.
After four minutes and thirty seconds, I snatch my phone and dial Leo. It rings and rings and rings. “Shit.”
Visions of Leo broken and hurt and alone on the street somewhere. What if he got hit by a car? Or if the mob’s enemies set their sights on him? My hands tremble so hard, it takes me three times to pull up Dante’s contact. I hit call and his phone goes right to voicemail.
“It’s just a coincidence, that’s all. Service is spotty all the time,” I whisper to myself.
I call Matteo and then Aries—neither of them answer, but I leave them both voicemails to call me back. I bite the inside of my cheek and look around the quiet apartment.
“Fuck this. I’m not some damsel in distress. I saved Leo in Vegas, and I can do it again.” I shove my feet into my sneakers by the front door, not bothering to change out of Aries’s oversized black tee that I knotted in the front and my black flouncy skirt that flares around my midthigh.
I pause with my hand on the doorknob and stare at my gun and thigh holster sitting so innocently on the entryway table. My intuition pushes me to bring it with me, and she’s never let me down before. I strap it on and fly out the door, calling Leo again. Still, no answer.
I burst out of the apartment building’s doors and the warm night air greets me like a lover. My hair sticks to my neck as I turn around in a circle. I half expect to see Leo splayed out on the sidewalk, but he’s not here.
My phone vibrates in my hand, and relief slams into my gut hard, stealing my breath, when I see a new text. Except it’s not Leo or any of the others.
Unknown Number: Your boyfriend is hurt. He asked me to text you. He’s at 5891 W Sycamore
My heart stops—just stops and I feel like I can’t breathe for a second. My fingers fly across my screen as I text back.
What happened? How badly is he hurt?
I stare at my phone, willing those three dots to bounce, desperate for a response. Sweat breaks out along my brow and the heat feels oppressive, even this late at night. Worry, fear, and helplessness all press against me, shoving and squishing me until I feel like I’m going to crawl out of my skin just for some relief.
I bite my bottom lip hard enough that the metallic tang of blood fills my mouth as I think. Something feels off, and I can’t tell if it’s because I’m paranoid or something else is happening here. I know one thing for sure, if Leo could, he would’ve picked up my call.
I slide my hands into my hair and tug on the strands, feeling the sharp sting in my scalp. Turning around in a circle, the warm breeze whips at my skirt, ruffling it up around my thighs for a moment.
Fuck it. Leo wouldn’t hesitate to get to me if I were hurt, so I’m going to give him the same courtesy. Plus, I love that man, and I’ll be damned if something happened to him and I just stood on the sidewalk until one of the guys rescued me.
Apparently, I’m a fucking mafia princess. It’s about time I do the rescuing.
I open the group text.
Leo’s hurt. I don’t know how, only that someone text me from his phone. Said he’s at 5891 W Sycamore. Call me
I call a car as I walk around the block to the front of the building. And on a Hail Mary, I reach out to Romeo. It seems either like a shitty coincidence or an elaborate trap that I can’t get through to anyone.
I let a breath loose when he answers on the first ring. “Madison?”
“Hey, uh, yeah. I hope it’s okay that I called like this—”
“Of course. Is everything okay?” The background noise fades. “Hello? Are you still there?”
I clear my throat. “Yeah, sorry. Look, I can’t get a hold of any of my men, and it’s not like them. They were supposed to be home hours ago, and I’m worried. I didn’t know if you could track them or whatever you did when you checked-in on me.”
“Oh sure. Just give me their information, and I’ll call you back in twenty minutes with their approximate locations and any incoming or outgoing calls.” There’s excitement in his voice, and I’m not sure if it’s because we’re talking or because he gets to flex his skills.
“Thank you, Romeo,” I murmur. The absurdity of our whole family situation will have to be worked through one day, but today is not that day.
“Of course, sis. You can call me anytime.”
I hang up the phone and tuck it into my pocket just as my car pulls up.
