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“It’s not for me. And if I had another way, I wouldn’t be fucking asking your ass. It’s about Lana.” I pause, hearing his sharp intake of breath. So,nowI got your attention, motherfucker.
“I’m listening.”
“You need to get her out of town. They know. Tell her they all fucking know what she did. She needs to go before they find her.”
“Woah, hold the fuck up! What are you talking about? What are you accusing her of? And who arethey?”
“Maybe you should be asking her that. I thought she trusted you and your people. Or better yet, ask her friend Elena. Ask her what the fuck she gave to Lana, and what she told her she could do with it.” I let my rage overtake me for a moment. “Look, just get her out of town for a bit. I’ll call back when it’s safe for her to come home.”
“You still haven’t told me who the fuck you are, and why I should be listening to you.”
“You’re right. I haven’t.” I hang up. I’ve seen him around Lana. I know he won’t take the risk. As prideful as the fucker is, he’ll listen to me and get her to leave the city, or at least hide her out in one of their fucking Russian safe houses. No one knows she’s fucking a Russian—except me. At least I fucking hope no one else knows. I throw myself back on the bed when the phone beeps in my hand. I open it, not even thinking twice.
Holly: I need you to come back. I can’t do this anymore. It hurts too much. Please come back, T.
I start typing a reply to her, to tell her that I’ll come home. That it’s all going to be okay. But I delete the words before I can send them. A minute later, another text arrives.
Holly: Please, I love you. T? Tell me you’re coming back.
I read the message but can’t respond. What am I supposed to do here? She fucking needs me. I fucking need her. This whole fake death shit is just that:fucking shit.I don’t want her to hurt... I can’t sit by and watch her like this. About ten minutes later, a new message appears.
Holly: Just so you know, I’m taking your car. I’m going to break every traffic rule, and you’ll probably get loads of fines.
Fuck! She’s being fucking reckless. She thinks she has nothing to live for anymore. She doesn’t care if she hurts herself. Fuck! I stand and throw on my jeans and a shirt. Then I call Neo. He’s doing a shit job right now. “Boss?” he answers.
“Where are you, and why the fuck is Holly taking my car out for a goddamn joyride?” I scream down the phone, already descending the five flights of stairs to get to the entrance of this decrepit apartment building.
“Ah, I had some errands. Her sister and brother-in-law were with her. I made sure they wouldn’t leave her alone. Fuck, hold on.” I wait, listening as he taps away on the keyboard.
“She’s, ah, heading to your parents’ place. She just put the address into the navigation.”
“Call her and tell her to go back upstairs.” He uses a different phone to call her. He has her on speaker, and hearing her voice is fucking torture. Especially when she’s still holding out hope that it’s me on the other end of that line. She answers by whispering my name.
“Well, fuck, she fucking hung up on me.” Neo’s shock is clear.
“I’m sure it’s not the first time you’ve been hung up on,” I say dryly. I’m jogging to my beater car.
“Well, yeah, but I thought we were friends. Want me to follow her to your parents?”
“Like you’d be able to keep up with her crazy fucking back-street, bullshit driving. I told you not to let her out of your sight. And why the fuck is she visiting my mother at three in the goddamn morning?”
“No idea. I’ll call ahead, to make sure the guards know to let her in. I’ll meet her there and bring her back to your place,” he offers.
“Don’t bother. I’m almost there.”
* * *
I park the car across the street (out of sight) and jog down under the trees, keeping to the shadows. The best thing about breaking into your own estate: you know where every fucking camera and guard are stationed. I never had a reason to sneak in and out before. I pretty much did whatever I wanted growing up. My parents didn’t care as long as I was always there for Sunday dinner and kept up appearances.
Well, fuck… I wasn’t planning on running into anyone back here. My father was one fucking thorough bastard—that’s for sure. I watch for a bit and note that each guard changes places every five minutes. I figured if I try to jump this fence, I’ll be shot before any of the idiots realize it’s me. My best bet is to go around the front. Either knock out the guard at the gate, or threaten him enough that he won’t speak a word of my being here to anyone. I trust these men. They’re all loyal. I just don’t want to fuck up this plan before I’ve determined what the other bosses are up to.
Jogging around the front, I trudge up to the gate. And I have two barrels pointed at my head before I make it within ten feet of the iron bars. “You may want to lower those,” I say, flicking my head in the direction of their guns.
“Shit, Mr. Valentino?” one of them asks.
“Yeah, long story. Don’t really have time to explain. Did my wife come through earlier?”
“Yes, I let her in, boss. She’s still in there, sir.” He nods towards the house.
