Page 61 of Hollow Forest

“And you’re one of them.” I reached up, carefully. Slowly. “Come out of the shadows.”

He bent, allowing me to pull the mask over his head. I started and let out an embarrassing squeak. My hands flew to my mouth, still clutching the mask.

A familiar face stared down at me. “Hello, Samantha.”

“Joey!” I whispered then choked. “Explain. Now!”

He lifted a shoulder. “What do you want to know?”

“I mean, I assumed it was you,” I rambled. “You were so familiar. And you came to the café every day. But you weren’t texting me back! And you didn’t have tattoos!”

I grabbed his arms, tugging at his sleeves. I didn’t have a good grip, or maybe the material was too strong. But the fleece-lined flannel didn’t tear.

“I messaged you back from under the table,” he said easily. “I thought that much was obvious.”

It was. I just hadn’t believed it.

“But the tattoos!” I insisted, scrambling to sit as I tugged at his shirt. “How did you— What did you— You tricked me!”

He shook his head. “I had been on a job earlier that day. Fortunate, when I realized what you were up to, sly one.”

“Why were they covered?” I demanded.

“I couldn’t have any marks in case I was detained. It’s protocol.”

“Protocol,” I repeated.

He nodded, tucking his thick and still hard cock back in his jeans. “I’m not in the construction business.”

I pulled my own over my hips, then narrowed my eyes at him.

He looked away, gaze shifting over the corpse.

“You’ve killed before,” I assumed. And then…it hit me. “The mob! San Pietro Cove is run by organized crime!”

“It is.”

“And you work for them.”

“You could say that.”

I tugged on him again. “Just tell me already.”

With a sigh, he cut a look back to me. “I am in charge of their field activities.”

He was a killer. A ruthless, unrepentant murderer.

And I was the crazy woman in his arms. There was nowhere else I would rather be.

“So…I really am safe here,” I marveled.

Joey held me tighter, wrapping his arms around me in a protective hold. “You are.”

No one was going to judge me for the vendetta. My side jobs as an exterminator were also acceptable here. Of all the places, I was finally home.

“Come on,” Joey murmured, rising and pulling me away from the macabre scene. “We have one stop to make, and then I’m taking you back to the cottage.”

With a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold, I followed. As we began to walk through the dried stalks, I paused to look over my shoulder. Just one final look to ensure myself it was over and Dezzy was avenged.