Page 10

Nancy frowned but he nodded at her, and the other woman left.
“Stop,” Boone said.
“How could you ... they must hate me?”
“They have no idea who you are. Your last name is Grinder, and they probably know you had nothing to do with what happened to them.”
The steak looked heavenly. He didn’t need to add any salt because Tyler was one of the best damn cooks around. He picked up his knife and fork and sliced into it. Juicy, just cooked. He didn’t like his steak rare. Blood on his plate didn’t appeal to him.
Lucia hadn’t picked up her knife and fork, and her chicken salad was not going to eat itself.
“Eat and enjoy.”
“They ... how ... what?” she asked.
“I took care of it,” Boone said. At first, he was pissed off at having his dinner interrupted. He hadn’t told Lucia that the men had tried to remove him from the building prior to them making threats. He had told them to fuck off, as he had paid for his steak, and he was going to stay and finish it.
The guy who had attempted to threaten him and then threatened Nancy with rape, must have seen something in his eyes. Maybe he was smart, but he still hadn’t made the right choice.
Killing came easy to Boone, as long as they were the right people to kill. He didn’t hurt civilians. He gave everyone a choice. He was trained well.
His father had seen something inside him and made sure he was used where needed.
No one knew of his past. He had military training. At one time, when someone needed someone killed or protected, he was the one they put in charge, but that was a long time ago.
He left, his identity erased, just as he liked it. His father had died many years ago, even before he got out of the military. There was no other family.
“Is that what you do? You take care of it?”
Boone looked toward his wife. She looked so ... heartbroken. He didn’t bring her here to talk about old memories. That just happened. He came here for some good food, and also because he knew Tyler and Nancy were people he could trust. Staring at her now, he had to wonder what was going on in her mind.
“Can I trust you?” he asked, sitting back in his seat.
She frowned. “I don’t know what you mean?”
“You’re my wife, Lucia, and I know you have been raised within a very tight, confined family. You’re connected to the Italian mafia, and I know they have attempted to use you, to keep me in check. I also know that by you marrying me, they think they have insulted me.”
He watched her gaze drop down to the table. “Within your world, you have been treated as if you mean nothing.”
Lucia lifted her gaze to his and he saw the tears in her eyes. “My sister is considered the beautiful one. My dad tried to sell me off four years ago. No one wanted me. I’m too ugly and fat. No one wanted me.”
He looked at her. “Did he hurt you?”
“What?”
“Your father. Did he hurt you?”
“I got punished. No different from anyone else that displeases their father or parent.” She shrugged.
“He beat you?” Boone asked.
“He’s my dad and I didn’t turn out the way he wanted. He had beautiful children until I came along.”
Did she not see she was beautiful?
“Do you ... are you ... going to give me back?” Lucia asked.
“Why would I do that?”