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Be theirs. Belong to all three of them. I look out the window at the passing city. “I don’t know. I can’t see past tomorrow, let alone that far ahead.”
At Lorenzo’s compound, I ask Cassius to stop before he drives down into the garage so I can take a look at the house and yard. There’s not much to see apart from a dark gray house that looks secure as hell and a neat lawn with nowhere to hide.
Lorenzo pulls up next to us and rolls down his window. “Reminiscing about our time together, princess? Me, too.”
His smile is devilish. I wasn’t thinking about being in bed with him, but now I am.
“I didn’t get a good look at the place the two times I was brought here against my will. This is where you live?”
“It’s my home and my headquarters. There are armed guards, dogs, security cameras, fourteen-foot walls and motion sensors. No one gets in or out without me knowing.”
“You live in a prison,” I point out.
“And I sleep like a baby. This whole city will be baying for your blood if you murder your father. Think about that.” He speeds into the underground garage and disappears.
Good point.
I get back into Cassius’ car and we follow him down, Vinicius in his Ferrari right behind us. The place is a lot bigger underground than the ground level would have you believe. The concrete walls and warren of corridors aren’t lovely, but they feel as secure as a nuclear bunker.
Lorenzo has disappeared somewhere and Vinicius leads us down a corridor.
“What does Lorenzo do here?” I ask.
Oh god, what if it really is organ harvesting?
Vinicius laughs. “That’s a long story. Maybe Lorenzo will tell you himself one day.”
He turns into a long, narrow room with two booths and man-shaped targets at the far end. Cassius stands near the door, his arms folded, disapproval radiating from him in waves.
Lorenzo appears a few minutes later with two handguns and a box of ammo, and lays them on the table inside one of the booths. “Here you go. Baby’s first guns.”
The weapons look heavy and too large for my hands, but Vinicius picks each one up and nods in approval. He starts to load them and runs through some safety rules. The main takeaway seems to be don’t point it at anything you don’t intend to shoot.
My neck prickles and my hands feel clammy. Even looking at a gun is making my heart pump with a sick feeling.
Vinicius is a good teacher, speaking slowly and calmly as he explains how a gun works. “You ready to try firing?”
I wipe my sweaty hands on the seat of my jeans and take the gun he holds out to me. “It’s too big. I don’t think I can handle it.”
“Bet that’s what she said to you the first time, huh Cassius?” Lorenzo says behind me.
I purse my lips but keep looking straight ahead. “Can you guys go do something else? I can’t concentrate while you’re staring at me.”
“Bambina, if you can’t pull the trigger with us looking at you, then you won’t be able to when you’re looking down the barrel at the mayor. And Scava? Shut the fuck up.”
Vinicius adjusts my grip on the gun. “You want the gun to be a good size in your hand to help you absorb the recoil. This is a 9mm but it’s still going to kick.”
I gaze up at him and smile. “If you were a teacher at my school, we’d all be fighting to get into your classes.”
Vinicius grins. “Two hundred Catholic girls calling me Mr. Angeli? Sounds like fun.”
His voice and instructions have calmed me down, and I take a deep breath and aim at the target.
“Squeeze, don’t pull,” Vinicius says when my finger is on the trigger.
I squeeze, and there’s an enormous bang and the gun kicks in my hand. I realize my eyes were closed and I have no idea where the bullet went.
“Did I hit the target?”
