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“Shit, Ro, there’s someone here.”
“What? Get the hell out of there. Now!”
She’s right, and I tiptoe toward the front door and grip the handle. When I tug on it, I let out a perfect Hollywood horror movie scream at the man standing on my front porch.
“Gia? What’s going on? Gia, say something!” Ro screams through the phone.
I hear my bestie screaming, but my gaze is caught on the man in front of me with the smooth skin the color of honey mixed with whiskey, thick dark hair pulled back, the band barely containing his wild locks. “Fucking Preacher! You scared the shit out of me! What are you doing here?” Is he trying to get inside my house to kidnap me? Or worse, to kill me?
“Are you all right?” His brown eyes stare at me, and his brows dip in concern.
“I’m fine. Why?” I take a step back and eye him suspiciously. “Did you open the door like two seconds ago?”
“No. Go stand on the porch and don’t move.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
He takes a step forward and then another, forcing me to step back or have his big body barrel me over. “Two guys just went in the door, and I need to find them.
“What? You’re crazy. There’s no one in here.” I shake my head and ignore the way my heart speeds up, chalking it up to lust rather than fear because lust is easier to handle. “For all I know, you were trying to get in here for some nefarious reason.”
“Nefarious? Nice word, but you’re off base, Gia. Way off.” We’re practically nose to nose now, and I can see the colors shift in his eyes.
“Am I?”
“Gia,” Ro yells. “You heard the front door yourself. Listen to him and get the hell out of there now!”
Preacher’s lips twitch at Ro’s words, and then he glares at me and nods for me to get out of my own damn house.
“Now,” he mouths.
“And why should I believe you? Believe me, you aren’t the first pretty face to lie to me.”
He smirks. “Thanks for that, sweetheart, but I’m trying to keep you safe, so get your pretty little ass on the porch. Now. Please.” He places one hand on my shoulder and gives me a gentle shove, but his intent is clear.
“Since you said please,” I shoot back because I’m a smart ass and can’t let this delicious hunk of man have the last word.
Heavy footsteps sound on the wooden floor behind me, and I let out a gasp as two men in all black step out of the dining room.
“Nobody’s going anywhere. Not yet,” he growls.
“Oh fuck,” I whisper as Ro shouts in my ear.
Chapter Eight
Preacher
“Get back,” I tell Gia, who is now oddly silent as she stares at the two assholes I saw come in earlier. “Stay back,” I growl. “I think you boys have the wrong address,” I tell them with a smile my brothers say gives them serial killer vibes.
They’re both wearing masks, so all I can see are two sets of eyes, one brown and one blue, and two pairs of thin lips, both curling into deviant smiles.
“Nah,” the one on the right says. “We’re exactly where we’re supposed to be. What the fuck are you doing here, asshole?”
I smile and move from the porch across the threshold. It’s not the first time some snot-nosed twenty-year-old thinks calling me an asshole hurts my feelings, and thanks to Joaquin, it won’t be the last.
“Real original, but I guess that’s the best you can do until your balls drop.” I take a step forward to put more space between these guys and Gia. They back into the dining room.
“Are we gonna have a problem here, boys?”
