Luca’s nostrils flare and I reach for his hand, untangling it from around my waist, trying to reassure him that this is for the best.
“I’ll agree on one condition.”
Dante snorts. “You don’t honestly believe you have any bargaining power, do you?”
I open my mouth and he glares at me.
“My invitation is not a request. You will come work for me, Harper. Do yourself a favor and stay away from the police.”
Moreno retrieves the gun from the floor, careful not to touch it with his hands. He uses a set of gloves and slides it into a plastic bag.
Dante leans closer to me, his breath a whisper that sends a shiver down my spine. “I’d hate to see you arrested for murder.”
Three
Nova
Zeke has trouble sleeping. I keep him company until Harper relieves me of babysitting duty. He’s curled up in the middle of their mattress while my father and Dante deal with the mess in the hallway.
My head spins from today’s events.
I never thought Harper had it in her to pull the trigger. I didn’t even know she knew how to use a gun.
I rub Zeke’s back as he finally falls to sleep. I’m hesitant to move off the mattress, concerned that the slightest shift might wake him.
The poor kid has been through hell today.
Thunder cracks overhead, and the storm hasn’t let up any, either.
In slumber, Zeke stirs and whimpers. I pull the covers up tighter around him, trying to offer him as much comfort as I can while he sleeps.
The bedroom door creaks open, and Luca pokes his head in before stepping into the room.
Slowly, I rise from the bed, careful not to wake Zeke before heading toward the door.
Luca’s voice is soft, hardly above a whisper. “Thanks for getting him down.”
It wasn’t easy. “Sure. How’s Harper?” I ask and glance over my shoulder when Zeke begins to stir.
“She’ll be all right.” He pats my shoulder, and I sneak quietly out of his bedroom, letting him tend to Zeke while I head back into sheer chaos.
Moreno is covering the body with a giant sheet of plastic. Ashton offers his assistance as I glare at him for getting more involved.
He’s wearing gloves, but that doesn’t mean he’s not leaving DNA all over the body. Anger simmers in my veins.
Maybe calling my dad wasn’t the best idea, but Harper wanting to call the police was a far worse suggestion.
“Aren’t you going to help them?” I growl at Dante as he scrolls through his phone, looking bored.
“I am. Someone needs to bring in a crew to clean up the place, and if that bloodstain doesn’t come out with a good cleaning, you’ll need new carpeting. Not to mention the window.”
“I’m going to send Simone and Rhys out tomorrow to replace the window when the storm clears,” Moreno says. He grunts as they wrap the body in a thick sheet of plastic, rolling him up tight.
“How are we getting this guy to your car without anyone noticing?” Ashton asks. “There’s cops crawling around outside asking questions.”
“You’re not carrying his dead body anywhere!” I growl, stepping closer. “Dante needs to get his ass off the phone and help my father deal with the situation.”
Dante glances up from his phone and slides it into his jacket pocket. The man always wears a suit and tie. I swear he probably goes to sleep in the same clothes. It’s always a black suit, never dark gray or navy blue. He wears one color: death.
