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I had no idea what we were going to do now.
The thought of having to kill her — of watching the light fade out of her eyes — made bile rise up in my throat.
But no… it wouldn’t come to that.
It was going to be tricky, but I was sure that we could figure something out — a way of helping her while keeping the Don none the wiser.
As I walked, an important question continued to keep nagging at the back of my head.
I was still puzzled about how the Don had even learned about her whereabouts.
He thought that she was dead, didn’t he? So how did he… in my mind, the image of Lorenzo’s smirk suddenly surfaced.
That fucking bastard.
Lorenzo was a dead man walking.
Eighteen
Dahlia
“You had a guest today,” I announced the moment King and Jack walked through the front door. My words continued to quietly hang in the air for a moment.
“Excuse me?” Jack frowned.
“I’m serious. There was a guy here looking for you.”
The revelation caused both of them to stop in their tracks.
“Who?” King’s voice demanded, slicing through the thick silence around us.
“He said that his name was Lorenzo.”
Understanding dawned on their faces, casting shadows of both anger and concern.
It was Jack who was the first to react. “Fuck,” he swore quietly under his breath.
“Fuck is right,” King muttered, his knuckles turning white from where he was gripping the back of the armchair.
“I gather that him knowing you keep me here isn’t a good thing.”
“That might be an understatement,” King admitted grimly.
Any hope that the unexpected visitor was just a slight inconvenience evaporated in an instant
“Why? Who is he?” I inquired, hoping to get additional insight about the situation we had at hand.
“Lorenzo works with us, well… I suppose it would be more correct to say that he worksagainstus.”
So he was a rival then. I racked my brain, trying to recall any Lorenzos that were working for the Don, but I couldn’t come up with one. He wasn’t that well known, then.
Jack took over where King had left off. “And let’s just say that he’d love to find some dirt on us and bring it up to the Don.”
I sank onto the couch, the weight of the situation truly settling in now.
“And I’m guessing that I’m the dirt in this analogy.”
This was way worse than I thought.
