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I feel afraid of him again. Not scared enough, however, to stop me from asking the questions I need answers to.
“Why is this happening to me?” I ask again as we start walking through the woods.
He glances back at me and clenches his jaw. “Because of me.”
“What do you mean?” I glare back at him. “That makes no sense.”
“They think we’re a couple.”
My blood spikes from this news. “But we aren’t. I never even knew you existed until days ago.”
“They don’t care about that. The man you saw me kill is the brother of someone I’m looking for. He wants you dead because he thinks you’re my girl.”
My gaze rivets to his, and I find I can’t look away. Maybe it was the way he saidmy girl.
But I’m not, though. I’m nobody’s girl. I’ll take care of myself from now on.
“Didn’t you tell him he made a mistake?”
“Bellezza, that’s not how it works.”
Calling me Bellezza conjures memories I don't want of him, so I force them away.
“How does it work, then?”
“Death is all we know.”
“Who iswe?” That sounded like they’re all the same. And like there could be more of them. He also mentioned that we were on our own now. I wasn’t aware that wasn’t the case before. That aside, more and more I’m starting to see he can’t be who he says he is. “You aren’t a consultant, are you? How did you even find me? How did they?” The questions tumble mindlessly from my lips.
He gives me an uneasy look. “It’s best you don’t know the answers to any of those questions.”
“Tell me now. This is your fault. I didn’t ask for this.”
He glares at me, and his eyes darken. “I’m an enforcer in the mafia. I kill people for a living, and sometimes they get back at me. That’s what’s happening now, Bellezza. They think you’re mine. And I’m here because you are.”
ChapterTwelve
Nick
Everything that could go wrong has gone to shit.
Fuck.
All I have are weapons, but they’re not going to last.
The most I can hope for now is for us to get to safety and somewhere I can get help. If I were by myself, I wouldn’t care about getting help.
I’d fight to the death like how all enforcers who work for the D’Agostinos are trained. That’s how my father trained them.
He wanted us to be like Spartans, and that’s what we became.
I have to be that for Tennessee now in other ways.
She’s stopped resisting, which is good, but she’s also stopped talking. I almost preferred it when she was scared of me, or angry. Now there’s nothing, and we are in hell.
We’ve been walking through these woods for hours. It feels like we’ve been going around in circles, although I know we haven’t. I have a good sense of direction. The problem is, wherever we are is far away from civilization.
We were far enough away in the first place; then we branched off into the wilderness. I was hoping the route we took would lead back to town, but it hasn’t, and since I know those fuckers would have come after us, the priority is to get somewhere safe.
