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"We’re gay friends," Giosuè chuckles. "But I swear, we don't anymore."
I pack the clothes up. "I’m hiding these so you don't steal them."
Giosuè adjusts his kitty ears. "I can’t get over how amazing these look. I’ve died and gone to heaven."
I pat his shoulder. "As long as you feel confident in who you are."
Giosuè turns to me—and his eyes water. "Thanks, Medici. You made me feel better."
That’s when Enzo, Cyan, and Ryder rush into the room.
"Mattie left here an hour ago to buy you a thank you card," Cyan pants.
"We assumed he was dilly-dallying," Ryder worries.
Enzo freezes. "We think something’s happened to him."
ChapterTwenty-Seven
Mattie
I scream as the two men drag me into a bush.
"Let me go," I shout, kicking like a motherfucker.
One of them snarls at me through his black mask. "Shut the fuck up."
"We didn’t come all this way to deal with you yelling in our goddamn ears again." The other man’s voice is even deadlier.
Nausea pummels me as I struggle and fight.
Try as I might, I can’t wiggle out of their grip.
They’re too strong—and the tools they use are too deadly.
One man hits my legs with a bat—then slams a blindfold over my eyes.
I fly face-first toward the ground, smacking my chin on a rock.
The other man pushes out a grunt. "We can’t injure him before we drop him off."
"We don't have a choice."
A car screeches to a halt behind them.
Footsteps sound on the hot pavement as three men rush out and grab me.
"You two did good," a deep Italian voice sneers.
"We totally thought you’d fuck this up," another Italian voice juts out. "After what happened last time."
They throw me in the backseat of a vehicle.
I swing my right arm out blindly to try to hit someone—smack.
Someone bats my hand away and thrusts it behind my back.
"I wouldn’t try that if I were you," he growls in my ear.
