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“Yeah, maybe temper that description a little,” I chuckle. “Just tell her I’ve gone to take care of some things and that I’ll be back for her soon. Andpleasedon’t let her run off on her own. She has a tendency to do that.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“How is it you seem to hear and know so much from inside this little bookstore?” I ask.
Simone chuckles and feigns innocence. “Bookstores have ears, you know,” she jokes. “And Idoalso have a life outside my bookstore. Be careful, Christian. I don’t want to be the one telling her why you didn’t return.”
“I will,” I say as I give her a grateful nod.
When I walk out of the bookstore and into the cold air, I shiver, not from the cold but from the level of anxious energy in the air. Then I get back in the car I took from the dead driver and head straight back to Hell’s Kitchen. At least I know Lara will be safe here with Sabine. The worst that can happen to her there is that Sabine will bore her with stories of how often I used to frequent her shop just so I could sit undisturbed with a cup of tea and a good book. If I wasn’t a brutally notoriouscapo, I might’ve been a writer in another life. I like words, and books, and the articulated mark of a good conversation. Or maybe I would’ve been a chef, since I enjoy the food at my restaurants so much.
As I pull up to my apartment, I can’t help but laugh at myself. As much as I can play around at these imaginings, mafia life is in my blood, written into my DNA, and these men who have crossed me and hurt my people are about to find out why I have such a brutal reputation. No mercy for Valentino and the Hell’s Devils for hurting Lara. No mercy for the thugs who killed Ester, or the men that commanded them.
No mercy.
15
LARA
When I wake up, I don’t know where I am. All I know is that my right shoulder aches like hell. I vaguely recall being shot by the driver of the car who was supposed to be there to help me. And I remember what I said to Christian before it happened and what he had said to me. Everything else after that is a bit of a blur.
There’s a funny taste in my mouth and a strange smell in my nostrils, a mix of herbal and sweet. The shirt I’m wearing is not my own, and I peek down into it to see the gunshot wound all stitched up as if I was a patchwork quilt.
“Good,” a soft voice says as I look up to see a woman walking into the room. “I’m glad you’re awake now. That means your body is doing its job to heal you.”
“Where am I?” I ask as I look around. This place doesn’t look like an apartment at all. It looks more like a library.
“You’re inside my bookstore,” she says. “I’m Sabine, an old friend of Christian’s.”
“I’m surprised that he evenhasany female friends,” I say, not meaning to be rude but simply honest about his gruff manner with women.
“He has a few,” she smiles.
I look around the room some more, hoping to see Christian pop out from behind a rack of books, but he doesn’t. “Is he here?” I ask, already feeling as though I’m not going to like the answer.
“No.” Sabine goes on to tell me in detail what had happened, how they fixed me up, and what Christian said while I was asleep. She also tells me what he left to go and do.
“I have to be there with him,” I say with urgency as I try to stand up and go rushing to his side. I instantly regret moving so quickly since I’m hit with a wave of vertigo.
“You still need to heal a bit longer,” she says as she places a gentle but firm hand on my shoulder to coax me back down onto the bed. “Christian wants you to stay here and wait until he returns.”
“But that could be too late,” I plead. “He needs my help. You have no idea what he’s up against.”
“Do you mean the biker gang and their head-of-the-snake leader? Or your father and his vile attempts to put Christian in the ground so that he can steal some more power and property for himself?”
Okay, I guess she actually does have an idea of what he’s up against.“He needs our help,” I persist.
“What he needs right now is a clear head to be able to focus on the dangerous situation he’s getting ready to walk into, and I hate to say it but you’re a distraction. You need to stay put and let him handle things. If you go running off half-cocked, you could wind up getting yourselves both killed.” I sit back down against the headboard and sigh. I can’t tell if she’s right or not, but staying here hiding out while Christian is risking his life doesn’t feel like the right thing to do. “Leaving the city wasn’t a good idea either,” she continues.
“Why not?” I ask. “Aside from the part about getting shot.”
“Because Christian is so in love with you that your leaving would cause him even more distraction and adversity than simply staying and being thrust into the middle of things.”
“What?!”
“Let me guess, he hasn’t told you how he feels?”
I stare at her with my mouth hanging open. Sure, Christian and I slept together, and he told me some feelings after we had sex—even asked me to marry him as if it was an official proposal instead of an arranged deal. But that was after a moment of passion, and now he seemed as though he had turned his feelings off toward me completely. He looked heartbroken when I told him I wanted to leave, butlove? I guess I didn’t think that Christian might even be capable of having real love for me.
