Page 46 of A Taste For Trouble

I went upstairs, avoiding my own bedroom, which had been tainted with the memory of Dom getting shot, and stepped into my mom’s old room. It still smelled like her, and that gave me some strength. I pulled out an old box from under her bed, which used to hold her fishing gear. I forced the jammed lid open and pulled out a very old air gun from the box.

Remembering what Mom had taught me, I cleaned and loaded the gun, and carried it with me, as I went around the house, drawing the curtains tightly closed to make sure no sniper got a clear view of me. And I waited. Not for Dominic. But for Joe Cheney.

Some time around noon, I got a text message from an unknown number.

Meet me at your cottage tonight. You owe me a lasagna.

I tried calling the number, but it was switched off. It had to be Joe, because who else could it be?

He must be getting desperate if he was willing to reach out to me. The cartel was hard on his tail, as were the cops. One of them was sure to find him sometime soon.

Fine! If he wanted to meet me at the cottage, that was exactly what I would do. It was time to end this once and for all because I was done living in fear. But I was not stupid. I was going into this with my eyes wide open and armed to the teeth. Hence the gun. Air gun or not, I still knew how to cause a lot of damage with it.

Joe had no idea, but I was a crack shot. My mother had made sure I could protect myself if I needed to, and I was eternally grateful for her training.

I left the front door unlocked on purpose and waited on the lumpy couch in the living room, with my air gun in my right hand, and Sweetpea staring malevolently at the door from my left. I didn’t have to wait too long.

The front door slid open slowly sometime around eight, and Joe poked his head around the door. When he saw I was alone, he walked into the room with an ugly smile on his face.

“That’s close enough, Joe,” I said, and he rolled his eyes at me as he took one step closer. But Sweetpea didn’t like that and let out a long, low growl that made Joe freeze with one foot in the air.

He shook out his shoulders and sat on the chair I indicated.

“Call your beast off, Rose. You look ridiculous sitting there with that toy gun and that fluffy cat as if you could do anything to hurt me. Now, I know we got issues. And I admit letting you take all the flak from the cartel was a bit of a dick move…”

“You think?” I asked mildly, and he shook a finger at me.

“Now, don’t go gettin’ bitter with me, babe. You called the cops on me. If anyone in this room has the right to be mad, it’s me. So here’s how it’s going to go down. You’ve got something I want…”

I decided I’d had enough of his posturing and took aim carefully. Before he could finish his sentence, I popped a pellet right next to his left knee.

He yelled out in fear and rolled to the floor, clutching his leg. When he realised I hadn’t actually shot him, he sat up and shot me a venomous look.

“That was for getting my boyfriend shot at. And now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s close to my dinner time, and you’re not invited.”

Joe shot me an uncomprehending look that turned into fury when I put my fingers to my lips and let out a piercing whistle. Immediately, my living room was swarming with cops. Joe tried to run, but they grabbed him before he took two steps.

“Are you crazy?” he yelled, staring at me wildly as he was handcuffed and dragged out of my living room.

“Yeah, I’m crazier than you think, motherfucker. So stay away from me and tell your friends to stay away as well,” I yelled back.

The cops shoved him into an unmarked van that was parked across the street and drove off, and then it was just Sweetpea and me alone in the cottage. I sat down on my couch with a thump and began to shake when the adrenaline rush wore off and reaction set in.

Ohmigod! I had just rescued myself. I had lured, baited, and trapped the man who had taken agency away from me. And I haddone it on my own. With the help of Maplewood PD, of course. And all I wanted to do right now was throw up. A sob escaped me, and I broke down in ugly tears.

A sound made me look at the open front door through my tears, and I saw Dom standing in the doorway, carrying a paper bag and…was that a cat carrier? I couldn’t read the look on his face. Was he mad at me for leaving? Was he happy about it? I couldn’t tell.

“You left something behind when you walked out of my apartment this morning,” he said softly, and I hiccuped a little, my heart breaking into tiny pieces when I realised he was talking about Scary Mary. Sweetpea would be glad to have her around, but how could Dom give her away so easily? Didn’t she and her love mean anything to him?

“What?” I asked coldly, waiting for him to say it out loud.

“Scary Mary…” he said, confirming my suspicions. “And…”

“And?” I couldn’t guess what was in the bag.

“Me,” he replied in a shaky voice.

CHAPTER 24