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“Stop fighting me,” I warn, squeezing her tighter.
My Tesoro stomps on my foot, elbows me in the gut, then kicks me in the fucking balls. “Fuck,” I groan, holding my hands over my cock while leaning against the wall.
Damn it, I think I’m in love with this woman. She’s fire and I want to douse her in kerosene to watch her explode into the wild blaze she deserves to be.
I somehow point my gun at her, through the pain and haze of my balls aching from her kick. “I’m trying to help you,” I say. “But kick my balls again and I’ll put a bullet between your pretty eyes.”
She holds up the gem, the one Bianchi wants, and I freeze. “Go ahead. It will keep the ones I love safe if you kill me now and the gem goes back to Bianchi. It’s the perfect setup.” She bends down and places the gem on the dead man’s back. “Go ahead,” she urges me, readying herself to die.
I’m not going to kill her. I’m too intrigued by her. I want to know more. Who is she protecting and how can I help?
“Leave the gem there and I’ll tell Bianchi his guy had it the entire time. I’ll make up a story he’ll believe.”
She snorts, shaking her head as she wipes the knife on her black dress.
She ruined the gorgeous clothing. I’ll have to buy her a new one. “Who the hell are you to convince Bianchi?”
I realize then she has no idea who I am, and I’d rather keep it that way. “I’m one of the higher-ups,” I lie, slowly tucking away my gun to show her I’m not going to kill her. “Leave the gem. I’ll take the rest from here.”
She doesn’t believe me and quicker than I can blink, she throws the knife and it lands right in my left shoulder to the hilt.
“Damn it!”
She runs out of the emergency exit in the room, and I groan when I pull the knife free, noticing the stone is gone and I’m left to explain the dead body.
Fucking perfect. I’m going to find that woman.
And I’m going to make an offer she can’t refuse.
Chapter Five
Rosie
I’ve been scrubbing the same spot on the floor for what feels like hours. My arms hurt but all I can see is the blood pooling on the floor. I know I didn’t kill the man here, but the image of his lifeless eyes has haunted me since last night.
I killed a man.
I took a life. He had his last drink, his last laugh, his last everything. I took that from him.
I gag and my morning coffee threatens to come up.
I’m exhausted. I tossed and turned all night, dreaming of those lifeless eyes, the blood spreading across the floor like a water pipe slowly leaking. Then, there’s the issue of having a witness. I should have killed him too, but I didn’t have the stomach for it. I didn’t even have the stomach for the guy I did kill. Plus, the man I stabbed, there was something about him that made me second guess every motive I had last night.
I should turn myself in. I should admit what I did and pay for my crime, but the thought only makes me sicker.
Tilting my head back, I take a deep breath, my entire body still shaking as if an earthquake has exploded through it and my bones are still settling from the aftermath.
There will be no settling. I’m forever altered by what I did last night.
I should get rid of this stupid gem, but no matter how hard I try, no matter how much I try to convince myself it’s the best thing to do, my brother’s words echo in my mind.
If we sell the stone, we wouldn’t have to worry about money again, but it’s only a matter of time before the Bianchi crime family finds us and makes us pay for what we both did.
We should sell the store, create fake identities, and get the hell out of here. Would we have enough time? Would they find us? Where could we go where they wouldn’t look for the people who stole from them and killed one of their own?
The door chimes and I hang my head. The one time I’m not in the mood for customers. I should have closed for the day but the need to make even ten dollars won out.
“I’ll be with you in just a moment!” I shout from the back room.
