Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 45371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
“So?” I say, climbing to my feet.
It must say something about me—about us—that self-consciousness touches me. I’m wearing my clothes from last night, crumpled and probably stinky. I tell myself it doesn’t matter. This isn’t about me and Blake and kissing and closeness.
“Did you find him?” I ask.
Blake walks over to me and wraps his arms around me. I thought I’d be too eager for news to embrace him, but when I feel the security of his solid body, I lean against him, resting my cheek against his firm chest.
“Do you remember Enzo?” he says after a pause.
“Francesco’s son?”
Sickness swirls through me when I say the name of my mom’s killer.
“Yeah,” Blake says and pauses. “He’s got your dad.”
“What do you mean, got?”
I end the hug. It’s too tempting to lean against him and savor the warmth, to let everything else fall by the wayside. It’s too tempting to forget about the rest of the world.
Blake runs a hand through his silver-peppered hair. He looks tired, triggering the would-be wife in me. I want to sit him down, tell him to relax, make him a snack, and be there for him… but another time. Or another life.
“I spent the night hunting down leads. This led me to the Italians and finally to Enzo. The second I saw him, I knew he was involved. He couldn’t hide the smug look on his face. Your dad’s been gambling. He’s run up a debt to Enzo. Of course, Enzo was happy about that.”
“Why?”
Blake frowns. “He’s never forgiven me for what I did to his father. After I told him the truth, even after Massimo—the new head of the Italian mafia—condoned my actions, he still can’t let it go. He thinks his father should’ve been fined.”
“Fined?” I snap. “For killing my mom?”
Blake nods. “He’s sick in the head. He knows me and your dad used to be best friends. On the surface, he can say this is about gambling debt, but we both know the truth. He’s doing this as revenge and worse.”
Blake swallows, cutting himself off. I step up against him, reading his face, knowing he wants to hide something from me.
“No more lies,” I say firmly. “What’s worse?”
“I don’t have to tell you this,” he says. “You don’t need to know.”
“But you’re going to,” I reply. “I know you are. I know you’re more than a kidnapper.”
He grits his teeth, nodding. “Maybe I am, but it was easier when I was in charge.”
“You’re still in charge, aren’t you?”
“Not with you, Bonnie. I don’t feel in control.”
He steps forward and draws me into his arms again. It should be the worst time for a kiss, but my instincts don’t care. When he pushes his lips firmly against mine, I answer, standing on my tiptoes and throwing my arms around his shoulders.
“What’s worse?” I demand, as the heat rises inside of me and tempts me, once again, to forget everything else.
“Enzo wants you to pay your dad’s debt personally. I offered the money on the spot, but the sick bastard wants you to pay.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Because it makes him feel tough. Powerful. When he mentioned your name, I must’ve flinched or something. I don’t know… shown some sign of how much…”
He looks at me with something like softness. “I care about you,” he finishes.
Affection expands in me. If the moment were different, I’d kiss him again and maybe let the kiss lead to other things, but Dad’s out there. He needs me.
“I have to go,” I say.
Blake is shaking his head before I’m done speaking. “No.”
“Yes,” I snap. “There’s no other choice. We can’t let him keep Dad. If you have the money, let me go. Let me pay. Then he’ll let Dad go.”
“Maybe he will,” Blake says, “but he could also use the chance to take you hostage, too.”
“I don’t want to hear any of this,” I hiss. “He has Dad. I can get Dad back. It’s that simple.”
“It’s not that simple,” he growls. “I can’t risk anything happening to you. I’m meeting with Massimo soon. He’ll talk sense into Enzo.”
“What about Dad in the meantime? What if Enzo’s hurting him? You have to take me to them.”
“I can’t.” He bites down. “I won’t.”
“Then I’m leaving.” I march for the door. “I won’t stay here if you won’t let me help.”
Blake grabs onto my hand, spinning me around. The Blake from day one returns, the fierceness, the intimating stare. “You. Are. Not. Leaving.”
“So, we’re back to that, huh? You’re just as bad as Enzo. Kidnapping me like he kidnapped Dad. You can pretend you’re better, but you’re not.”
I pull away from him, making for the door again.
“I can’t let you get hurt,” he snarls.
He grabs my shoulders—not hard, but not soft either. Then he lifts me up and carries me to the bed.
“You’ll have to stay in your room until this is over. I’m sorry.”