by Quinn, Cari
I was still staring into his eyes when the life bled away.
Swallowing hard, I tried to angle my bruised, battered body under his Mustang while I fumbled for my gun. Why the fuck hadn’t I put it in my pocket? I was reaching back for it when a rough hand closed around my arm and dragged me to my feet.
I swung out automatically, and the other man caught my fist.
Narrowing my eyes, I shoved him back with both hands. “Luke Fucking Moretti.”
“In the flesh, baby.” He slapped his Sig Sauer against his chest then slipped it into the side pocket of his vest.
“Was that really necessary?” I gestured behind me. “You could’ve disarmed him if you thought he had a weapon.”
His smirk was the same one I’d seen him flash a million times in our childhood. He’d been Dante’s best friend and right hand man since I could remember. I hadn’t seen him in years.
About as long as it had been since I’d laid eyes on my brother.
“I’ll remember that next time I’m saving your life, Gio.”
“What are you even doing here?” I cast a glance over my shoulder, expecting to see the cops—or maybe the crowd of spectators—advancing on us. But the lot had emptied out fast, and no one seemed to care that a guy had just breathed his last behind us.
“I thought I just clarified I was here to save your life.” He arched an eyebrow in the direction of the Mustang. “Sat nearby and watched that individual, one Zaccharius L. Froio, rig his car with explosives several hours ago. I imagine if you’d laid a hand on that door handle, you would’ve gone up like a Roman candle.” He shrugged. “I don’t know, seemed like extreme punishment for you pussying out on that fight. Your call, though.”
“Where’s my brother?” I didn’t ask about Carly. Yet.
“He’s a little busy. I do believe you sent him to collect some cargo this evening.”
“She’s not cargo.”
“Whatever term you prefer, she’s been collected.”
I cast a glance over my shoulder again, making sure no one was close by. “She’s okay?”
“Spitting cat mad, but fine. And your name didn’t seem to make her less so. Guess your influence with the lady isn’t what you’d hoped.”
I smiled, shaking my head. That was my Carly. She’d never go down without a fight for anyone. “Tomorrow, you’ll take me to her.”
Luke jerked a shoulder. “Could do it right now, if you want.”
“No. Not now.” I couldn’t take the risk of someone following us to her location. “Tomorrow. We need to figure out what the plan is for her.”
She needed to be protected, no matter what. Maybe it would be safer if she was kept under lock and key until Roberto was taken care of, and the organization had much bigger problems to worry about than one stripper. She was so much more than that, but not to them.
To me, she was everything.
“Whatever you say.” Luke dusted off his hands with what looked like a linen handkerchief.
Sighing, I glanced at the car. So much for my staging a meet with Roberto. This little meetup had eaten too much time, and then there was the matter of the rigged car. “Guess we should get out of here and call this in.”
He frowned, obviously perplexed. “Why?”
“Why? Never mind that a man died here tonight, this car is a public hazard. If someone touches it, the damn thing might explode.”
Luke shrugged and scraped a hand over his scruffy jaw. “Guess that’s a problem, huh?”
“Go on back to Dante. I’ll handle this.” At the end of my patience, I bent to say a quick prayer over Z then headed for my own vehicle. I stopped halfway there and glanced back. “Thanks, for…” I let my gaze drift to the boots still visible between the cars. Something too close to pity moved through me, and I squashed it. Pity was wasted on men like him.
Men like you.
“Thanks,” I said again, without elaborating.
Luke nodded. “All in a night’s work.”
Because I was certain that wasn’t an exaggeration, I got in my truck and drove away from the warehouse. Even pressing my foot down on the gas required more effort than I had left to expend, but instead of going right home, I took a zigzagging route through the city to make sure I wasn’t being tracked.
Paranoia had me in its grips. Since it might just keep me alive, I wasn’t fighting it.
Along the way, I pulled out the drop phone I’d picked up earlier in the week in case I had to run. I had another in the bag in my trunk. I called the cops, disguising my voice as I told them about the body and the rigged car back at the warehouse. Then I hung up and finally went home.
Alone. So fucking alone.
I let myself in my apartment, prepared to meet my father again or maybe a long-lost cousin or two who’d come to greet me with a shiv. But the place was as silent as a tomb.
My bed felt like another kind of cage. Sprawled on my back, my body aching, I stared up at the skylight and recalled how Carly’s face had looked reflected in the glass as she came. The beauty there as she’d squeezed me so fucking tight.
The prickle at the back of my neck kept me from sleeping for hours. I didn’t know what it meant. She was okay. Luke had told me right to my face they had her, and she was fine. If he’d been lying, I would’ve known. We’d grown up together, for fuck’s sake.
The prickle remained.
Eventually, exhaustion won out, until my ringing phone dragged me out from under. I pulled it to my ear without looking at the readout and waited.
“Carly didn’t come home last night.” Fox sounded out of breath, as if he’d been running. “She never texted, and she’s not answering her phone.”
I rolled over and punched my pillow. Did Dante have his head up his ass or what? Why wouldn’t they let her call home so her family wouldn’t worry? And how the hell was I supposed to clean up this mess?
“Goddammit, you better start talking to me.” I heard a door slam in the background, and he lowered his voice. “I wasn’t going to pressure you about this, because I figured it was her call—and yours—how you handled it. But that was before she fucking disappeared, Costas.”
The worry in his voice made me grit my teeth as I sat up and shoved a hand through my hair. I’d dropped into bed without a shower last night, and I couldn’t even imagine what all was caked on my skin. Not important.
I nearly deflected his comment, then decided to meet it head-on. If there had ever been a time to stand up and be a damn man, it was now. “She’s okay. I promise you. I’m sorry she didn’t get to notify you, but—”
“Is she with you? Put her on the phone. Now.”
“She’s not here, but I know where she is. She’s fine. I swear that I wouldn’t allow anything to happen to her.”
“Oh, really? I find that a little suspect, considering the circumstances. Seems to me like someone wasn’t thinking with their big head.”
I rubbed my tender jaw. Miracle he hadn’t broken it. “I understand you’re angry.”
“Understand this. I want her home by noon. If she doesn’t walk in this door under her own steam by then, you’ll be answering to me. And last night will be a preview to your funeral.” He clicked off.
So much for coming up with a plan to ensure she wouldn’t be in harm’s way for as long as possible.
Thanks, brother.
Sighing, I got out of bed and headed into the bathroom. I was on my way to the closet to grab some clothes when my phone went off again.
It wasn’t noon yet, for fuck’s sake.
One-handed, I pulled on a shirt, wincing all the while. With the other, I answered the call. Dante. Must’ve read my mind.
“Need you down here,” he said without preamble. “We have a situation.”
Immediately, I stopped moving and my skin iced over. “What kind of situation?”
“Just get down here.” He recited an address and hung up.
It took me almost half an hour to find the apparently abandoned bui
lding in the same district where a lot of the underground MMA fights were held. I parked in back near Dante’s oh-so-inconspicuous cream-colored Mercedes and jogged inside the building.
I just needed to see her.
“Back here.” Dante stood in the doorway of a small office. Judging from the vast space, what looked like oil spills on the floor, and vintage automotive signs on the wall, the place had clearly once been an autobody shop.
I crossed the floor to my brother. “Interesting location.”
“I do what I can. You look…not good,” he said, obviously inspecting my injuries. They didn’t look any better in the light of day.
Ignoring him, I followed him into the dimly lit office, frowning as I saw the knots around a pair of pale wrists at the back of a chair. A long trailing cloth was tied behind her head.
“What the fuck is this?” I growled. “When did you hear me mention restraints and gags?”
“She’s a wild one. She would’ve booked otherwise.” He rolled the chair around to face me.
Even before the girl lifted her head and glared at me out of mutinous green eyes, I knew he’d grabbed the wrong woman.
“You damn idiot, that’s Jenna Walsh, not Carly.”
Twenty-Five
“No kidding.” Dante waved a thin piece of plastic over her head. “Found this I.D. tucked in a secret chamber of her purse, rather than in her wallet. Because, you know, I.D. should be hidden six layers deep. Not to mention, she answered to Carlotta, not her own name.”
“I was supposed to be Carly!” Jenna protested.
“Your loss.” Dante returned his attention to her I.D.
No wonder he’d thought he had the right woman. Jenna didn’t have her usual long blond hair. Instead, she wore a long dark wig with knee-high white boots and a leather outfit that showed way more cleavage than I was used to seeing from the girl. Not that I’d spent much time with her, but still.
“I let her text home, because you know, nice dude. And her phone’s been blowing up all day. Some guy named Slater is threatening murder and dismemberment, because apparently, our Girl Friday here tipped him off in some secret code that big bad Giovanni had her.” He bent down and peered into her face and she glared at him. If she was afraid, she sure didn’t show it. “Little girl, do I look like my brother to you?”
I reached forward and pulled off her gag. She immediately started shrieking until Dante clamped a big hand over her mouth. “What’d I tell you about that? Squeals like a damn piggy,” he muttered, tipping back her head to look into her eyes. “You keep screaming, the gag stays on. We might even get a blindfold for you too.” He looked at me. “So what do we do with her?”
From behind his hand, the high-pitched squeals started again.
“Shh, shh.” I shot Dante a dark look as I knelt before Jenna and gripped her knees. Panic raced through her expression, and I realized that wasn’t the best move. I lifted my hands, palms up. “You’re safe. No one’s going to hurt you, I swear.”
Dante lifted his eyebrows at her. “Can I move my hand now, or are we going to keep re-enacting Charlotte’s Web all day?”
She nodded and he dropped his hand. “Untie me, please,” she said in a sweet, demure voice that didn’t match the flare in her eyes. “I won’t try to escape.”
“Yes, untie her,” I told Dante. “She’s not a damn prisoner. Her wrists probably hurt.”
“They do.” She nodded hurriedly. “Hours of sitting in this chair and I’m sore as hell.”
“Almost as sore as my ears from listening to your babble.” Dante undid the ropes. He moved his mouth close to her ear. “Run, and I’ll enjoy catching you.”
She pursed her mouth and said nothing.
The instant he’d freed her, she rubbed the circulation back into her wrists. “Thank you.”
Dante seemed surprised by her gratitude. “That’s better than—”
She stood up and slapped him right across the face. Since he’d still been bent over undoing the rope from the chair, he’d been at her perfect height to strike. “That’s for calling me a pig.” She slapped him again on the opposite cheek, leaving two bright handprints in her wake. “And that’s for kidnapping me, you brute.”
“Sit your ass in that chair, puttana,” Dante demanded.
“Why don’t you make me?”
“Oh, gladly.” He started to reach for her ass and she squealed and scooted behind me.
I’d had just about enough of this. I grabbed hold of her arm and brought her around to face me. “Where’s Carly?”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s important you tell me. He took you because he thought you were her. Why would he think that?”
“Why would he want to take Carly?” She shot a malevolent look at Dante. “Brutish jerk.”
“I asked him to.”
She looked back at me, eyes narrowed. “You’re both brutish jerks then.”
“Look, you were dancing at the club, right?” I glanced at Dante for confirmation and he nodded. “In her cage,” I said, clenching my jaw.
Of all the nights for Carly to play games…assuming she had. But Jenna had been dancing for her, and it made sense that it had happened on Carly’s say so.
If anything made sense anymore.
“She asked me to, because she wanted to go to your fight.”
I spun away to grip the desk. “It’s my fault. I should’ve given you a picture,” I said to Dante. “It never even occurred to me someone else might be dancing in her cage. Stupid. So fucking stupid.”
“You can’t find her? She didn’t show up at the fight?”
Eyes closed, I shook my head. “I didn’t see her.”
But maybe someone else had. Like Marco or Lorenzo. Or my father.
“Her family hasn’t heard from her?” Dante asked.
“No. She’s not answering her phone and never texted last night.” I pulled out my phone as it went off, hoping against hope it was Carly.
It was Fox. Jesus, what was I going to say to him?
For now, I let the call go to voicemail.
“I’ll put Luke on it.” Dante gripped Jenna’s shoulder and pushed her back in the chair. “He can do a sweep for her. Give me a picture of Carly. A current one,” he added. “I accessed her culinary school I.D., but she sure didn’t look like a girl who’d be dancing in a club like that. In the dark, this one fit the profile better, so I figured the I.D. was a pic without makeup and an old hair color.”
“Excuse me?” Jenna jerked to her feet. “You saying I look like a stripper?”
“They wear wigs,” I said tiredly, gesturing for her to sit again. She ignored me. “Jenna’s a blond.”
“You know, the perfect stripper shade,” she snapped. “I’ll remember that when I get my theology degree.”
“Basta! I’ve had just about enough of your mouth,” Dante growled.
I ignored them both. “Jenna, I’m going to need the names and numbers of her friends. Any you can give me.”
Dante got on the phone, presumably with Luke.
“You really think something happened to her?” She sank back into the chair. “Maybe she’s just sleeping over at Kirk’s. You know, you lose track of time…”
Kirk must be the salad shop boyfriend. Judging from the way she said it, she wasn’t trying to twist the knife with me. She must not know about me and Carly. Which meant Carly had kept the secret from one of her closest friends.
There wasn’t room in the pit of worry and terror deep inside me for sadness. Not much, anyway.
“I need his number too.”
I didn’t think it was possible she’d been with him, but I would check every avenue. I would force myself not to panic and move through the steps, slowly and methodically.
She was okay. She had to be. No other possibility could compute.
“They’re all in my phone.” She glared at Dante. “He has it.”
Within a few minutes, the search part was sorted out. Dante set Luke on the
case, texting him a photo from Jenna’s phone of Carly looking so heartbreakingly gorgeous and carefree that it took everything I possessed not to punch a hole in the wall. Dante said he’d take Jenna home, so that meant it was time for me to call Fox.
He’d left a voicemail that Carly had contacted him, which sent relief coursing through me until I heard it was a letter mailed yesterday that had just arrived in today’s mail. In it, she said she was going away for a while.
Now my gut wasn’t churning, it was knotted like rope.
He’d said they were at Mia’s new building, so come there if I wanted to talk to them. Mia was understandably upset, so he didn’t want to be on the phone.
Just as well, because what I had to say to them was better done in person.
I parked just up the street from Mia’s new space, the one she planned to use for some kind of counseling place. I opened the door and walked down the hall, dreading what I was about to do with every step I took. But I couldn’t put it off any longer.
And I had to see that note.
It didn’t make any sense. Carly wouldn’t just leave. Her whole life was here. Her sister, Fox, her friends, school. She couldn’t wait to be a chef. No way in hell would she have just walked away from all of that, for any reason.
What if you’re the reason?
I didn’t believe it. Whatever was between us, no matter how difficult things had been, she wouldn’t just take off. She was so much stronger than that. She’d give me the cold shoulder and perhaps cut me out of her life completely, but she wouldn’t run.
Unless she was afraid. Unless there was some reason she thought she had no choice.
Which circled right back around to me again.
Through the glass door that led to Mia’s studio space, I watched Carly’s sister move around the room. She had dropcloths everywhere and buckets of paint, and she kept moving a stepladder as if she couldn’t stay still. Fox was trying to speak to her, but from the frustration on his face, he wasn’t getting anywhere.
I was just going to make everything worse.
I pulled open the door and walked inside, coming to a halt when they fell silent. The silence didn’t last long.
“You.” Mia climbed down off the ladder. “Pushing Fox into a fight last night, so we were focused on that instead of what was going on at home. I wasn’t paying attention to her like I should have been, especially now. She was so stressed out, and I didn’t try hard enough to make sure she was doing okay.”