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My phone rings. I glance at the dash, and Massimo’s name pops up. I ignore it. This is the third time he’s called me. To be honest, I’m surprised he hasn’t been calling nonstop. The call disconnects, then starts ringing again. Oh hell, I’m going to have to answer his call at some point, right? He must be worried sick; I owe him that much. I press the button on the side of the steering wheel, and the call picks up.
"Massimo?"
I glance at the side mirror to find a new car falling behind me. Hmm.
There’s silence for a beat, another, then, "You’re safe, Via?" His voice is so calm, the tone so even, I gulp. This is not good. He’s pissed at me. His anger all but leaps out at me from the call.Shit. Shit. Shit. Of course he’s angry, what else did you expect?Still, realizing he’s angry, hearing him when he’s angry, and knowing I’m going to have to face him when he’s angry, is another thing altogether.
"Via?" A note of impatience enters his tone. "You okay?"
“Of course I am." I draw in a breath. Why am I acting like such a bitch? I’m angry with myself for behaving the way I did, so why am I taking my anger out on him?
“Massimo, I—"
He interrupts me,. "I’m in a car en route to you. I know where you are, Via."
"You do?" I frown.
"Your car and your phone are both—"
"Tagged?" I burst out. "You’re tracking me?"
"You didn’t think I’d let you go anywhere without making sure I know exactly where you are, did you? The Mexican cartel is after you."
Goddamn!I slap the steering wheel. Of course he knows where I am.
"You’re joking, right?" I gape.
See? This is what happens. Every time I want to act rationally around him, he goes and does something so alphaholish, so presumptuous, that I want to smack him on the head, or better still, on that perfectly tight ass of his.
"Do you think I’m joking?" he growls.
Asshole."Well, since you know where I am, you can follow me on whichever app you’re using to track me." I reach for the button to disconnect the call when—
"I’m sorry, Via," his tone lowers in pitch. The emotion in his words is unmistakable.
A-n-d, there he is. That sensitive, caring man I know, who exists under that jerkface exterior he likes to present to the world.
“You... you have nothing to be sorry about, I—”
“I do. I’m not sorry for killing your brother, but I am sorry I manipulated you into marrying me. I wish I could have gone about it differently, but I had to work with the hand I was dealt. I couldn’t let go of you, Via.” I hear him swallow. “Youdidn’t want me to let go of you."
"Ha, that’s what you’d like to think." I glance in the side mirror to find the car I’d spotted earlier drawing closer.
"This is strange,” I mutter.
"What’s strange?"
"Eh, nothing, just this car that’s been following me and—"
Another car speeds up until it’s abreast, then zooms forward into my lane, forcing me to stop.
"What the hell!" I yell as I slam on the brakes. Fear is a sharp, pungent taste in my mouth. Adrenaline laces my blood.
"Via, what the hell is happening?" His voice is tight, like he’s reined in all of his emotions. His strength pours through the airwaves, and I hold onto it.
"There’s a car in front of me, one behind me, and they’ve forced me to stop." My voice wavers and I swallow down the uncertainty bubbling up. "Someone… No, two men have gotten out of the car in front. They’re coming toward me. Oh my god! They’re armed, Massimo," I cry out.
"Listen to me, Via. Don’t panic. Don’t show them any fear. I’m on my way, and I have JJ tracking down Alvaro, as we speak. I will make sure you’re safe, baby, you get me?"
