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I snort. A lot. Master of understatement.
“I’m still sorry. I don’t want to be an inconvenience, and I definitely don’t want to distract Enzo. We haven’t said anything yet, but you know I feel the same about him.”
I won’t say it out loud until I say it to Enzo first. Marco offers me a tight smile, and I know he understands.
“What about clothes? I can’t keep borrowing stuff.”
“We’ll swing by your place so you can grab what you need. Pack for at least a week, if not two.”
Two? That makes my panic want to rear its ugly head again. But I remind myself this is a precaution. It doesn’t mean it’s absolute.
“Thanks. I need to get stuff done that I won’t easily be able to do from your parents’ place.”
“I’ll be in the hallway.”
I offer him a smile that matches his before he leaves. I stare at my computer screen for a solid five minutes before I can concentrate. My mind is blank. You would think it would be racing, but I can’t seem to conjure a complete thought to save my life. When I finally can, it’s sluggish. But I pull my head out of my ass and get back to work. The moment my fingers touch my keyboard, the phone rings.
“Hello.”
My calls get routed through my secretary, so I never feel the need to announce my name.
“Hello, Michelle.”
The hair on my arms goes up. It’s another voice like Hannibal Lecter saying “Hello, Clarice.” I’ve thought about that movie more times since I met Enzo than I have in like twenty years. It’s not the same voice as last time, but it gives me the same feeling.
“Who is this?”
“A concerned friend.”
“Concerned about what?”
The last caller said that too. But I don’t get the feeling it’s a woman like last time.
“Concerned about how I’m going to kill you. Should I stalk you for a few months, making you look over your shoulder? Should I sneak up on you and dart out of the shadows? Should I torture you for days?”
I fumble for my phone as this psychopath threatens me.
“You can text Marco and beg him to come back. You can realize that he was right. You can do any number of things, but you can’t stop me.”
Me
911 come back on the phone with someone threatening me he knows we what we just argued about.
“Did you send that text to Marco? You wouldn’t want to distract Lorenzo, would you?”
“Why me?”
“Why not you?”
“My question wasn’t rhetorical.”
“Then make up a reason. I don’t owe you one.”
“But you do. You’re going to kill me and won’t tell me why. Seems rather cowardly. Will you shoot me from behind?”
“I’ll look you in the eye as I slit your throat. Then I’ll send you to Lorenzo and Maks in pieces. They’ll have to work together to put enough of you back together to bury you.”
This person knows I’m more than just Laura’s friend. They know I’m more than just some girl dating Enzo. They’re going to wage war on two syndicates by coming for me.
