Page 42 of Forgotten Comeback (Parisi Family #5)

Chapter

Forty-One

Taylor

Scoping out a little corner to hide in, I move food around my plate as I take in the scene. Everyone here clearly knows each other, and I feel like the odd man out.

A petite blonde woman makes a detour with her plate of food. “Hi, there. I’m Lily,” she says.

“Hi, I’m Taylor. Kat’s friend,” I explain.

“Nice to meet you.” She smiles brightly. “I’m married to Kat’s cousin.”

So this is the woman who married Darius. Never in a million years would I have pictured this angelic-looking woman married to that scary man. “Nice to meet you too.”

“You worked with Kat at the Diamond, right?”

I nod. “I used to be a casino dealer, but I’m focusing on my art.” And with that statement, I realize it’s time I put in my notice with the Diamond.

“What kind of artist are you?”

“Dark contemporary with a splash of abstract and pop art.” Digging my phone out of my purse, I pull up my social media page and show her my piece that sold.

“Very cool. Are you open for commissions? I’d love to have a modern Hades and Persephone painting for my home office. Similar to this painting’s vibe, but Hades’ hand would be feeding Persephone a pomegranate.”

“Oooh, I could definitely do something like that,” I say, the creative wheels spinning.

“And not to sound too Narcissus—different mythology—but I’d love it if you could base the characters loosely on me and my husband.”

“Ha ha, gotcha,” I tell her. “How dark do you want?”

“Not too scary; we have a four-year-old daughter.”

“Understood. Do you have a particular size in mind?”

“To sound very Narcissus, I’d like it big,” Lily says with a little laugh.

Smiling, I tell her, “When I get back to my studio, I’ll play around with it and get you a quote.”

We exchange information, and I ask her. “Do you happen to know where the restroom is?”

“Go inside and down the hall. First door on your right.”

“Thank you. I’ll be in touch soon,” I tell her, tossing my plate before I enter the house. I’m on cloud nine, practically floating down the hall.

My very first commission!

A hand grabs my wrist, and I squeal as I’m yanked inside an office, the sound of the clicking lock way too ominous.

Fabio’s eyes meet mine, sending ice through my veins.

“I just came inside to use the restroom,” I tell him, proud that my voice is steady.

“Have a seat.” He motions to a chair across from his desk. Not feeling like I have much of a choice, I do so as he sits behind the desk.

“I’ve received your threat loud and clear. You don’t have to worry about me going to the cops,” I assure him.

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” He reaches into his desk, producing a manila envelope, and slides it across his desk.

“What’s this?”

“Open it.”

Dread floods my bloodstream as I open the folder to find a photo of me and Gavin making out at the pier last night.

“Will I need to drug you to get the truth?” Fabio’s emotionless voice cuts through the room like a knife.

“No,” I stammer.

“Who is this man?”

“Gavin Webb.”

“Who is he really?” Fabio presses.

“I don’t know,” I say, hating that my voice is small.

“So you were passionately embracing a man who blew up your house, and you don’t know who he really is?” Judgment drips from his words. “I’m beginning to understand why you were institutionalized.”

Fabio ran a background check on me. There’s no other way he knew that. Hell, Kat doesn’t even know that about me.

“Fuck you.” I hop out of my seat.

Fabio holds up his hand. “That was a low blow. My apologies. Please, sit.”

I eye the door.

“You’re not leaving the party until we have this conversation, so I’d suggest you sit down.”

Crossing my arms, I fall back into the chair. “If you’re asking me who Gavin is, that means you don’t know the answer, either.”

“You would be correct,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “And I don’t like not knowing the answer. The man kidnapped my wife; I refuse to let that slide.”

“Please, I don’t want to be in the middle of whatever the hell this is,” I beg, my voice catching.

“This photo tells me it’s too late for that,” he says matter-of-factly.

“I want to know who ‘Gavin Webb’ really is, and more importantly, why he’s suddenly off limits,” he says, his cool facade nearly slipping.

“I want to know his connection to John Davis, and I want to know his connection to Inferno. You will find out all of this, and you report back to me.”

“And if I refuse?” I lift my chin.

He retrieves a vial of something from his desk drawer, giving it a spin. “Then my wife will be sad to learn her friend committed suicide. Like mother, like daughter.”

“I’ll see what I can find out,” I whisper, my heart feeling like it might implode.

“In that case, enjoy the party.”

He strolls across the room and unlocks the door for me, and I practically sprint out of the house. Getting through security a second damn time, I drive back to AC, my mind racing faster than a red muscle car.

Panic grips me by the throat, and I have to pull over, my chest heaving as I struggle to catch my breath. Fumbling for my phone, I call Gavin to chew his ass out for putting me in this position.

“What’s up, man-eater?”

Except now I can’t talk. I can’t even fucking breathe.

Gavin

Panic unfurls in my chest, but I keep my voice calm. “Taylor, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“I can’t breathe,” she says between jagged breaths.

“Are you at the party? I’ll come get you—”

“No.”

“Where are you?”

“Driving home. Pulled over. Panic attack,” she says between pants.

“Take a deep breath for me,” I instruct. “In through your nose for me. I’ll count. One. Two. Three. Four. Hold it.”

She calms and does as I ask.

“Let it out slowly on the count of four. One. Two. Three. Four.”

We do this two more times before she says, “Gavin?”

“Yes, baby?”

“I fucking hate you.” She ends the call.

Already in the dog house. That didn’t take long.

“Back in the ring,” my coach barks, and I duck under the ropes and let loose on his pads. Coach is telling me something, but my mind’s on Taylor. She was supposed to be at Kat’s party, and something obviously happened that upset her…

“Gavin, did you hear me?” he snaps.

“I fucking heard you.”

“What’d I say?”

I’m unable to answer because I wasn’t listening.

“If you want the championship belt, then I need you committed.”

Committed.

This time, the word doesn’t set me off.

“I’m committed.”

“Good, then—”

“We can put in extra time tomorrow.” Ignoring his protests, I climb through the ropes and hustle out.

After a quick shower, I’m out the door and on my way to Taylor’s place. The locks are top of the line, but thinking a step ahead, I kept a spare key.

Parking behind her car, I quietly enter the gallery. The door to her studio is closed, but light peeks beneath it. “Taylor,” I call, making my presence known before sliding open the doors.

A paintbrush flies at my head, and I barely duck in time. “What have I done now, man-eater?”

Taylor’s eyes burn a hole through me. “I fucking told you that you were going to get me killed, but did you listen? Nooooooo!”

“You look pretty alive to me.” And damn rilled up, which in a twisted way, does things for me.

“Fabio has a picture of us kissing at the pier last night!”

“So?” I lift a shoulder.

“So?” Her voice rises several octaves. “So he’s demanding I bring him information about you!”

“Aww, and you told me first.” I grin. “See, you are my girl.”

That gets another paintbrush chucked my way. It bounces off my chest as I take a step forward. “Tell me exactly what happened,” I tell her calmly, holding up my hands.

Taylor’s back hits the wall, and she slides to the ground.

Taking my chances, I cross the room and join her on the floor.

“Fabio wants to know who you really are. Your connection to John Davis—a name I’ve never even heard—and your connection to Inferno,” she says quietly. “He also wants to know why you’re off-limits, whatever that means.”

“And what did you say when he asked all of that?” I press.

“That I didn’t know.”

“Did he threaten you?” I ask, my voice sharp as a razor blade.

She blows out a shaky breath. “Yes.”

Jumping to my feet, I’m already out the door.

“Gavin, wait!” Taylor calls behind me, but I slide behind the wheel and peel out, tearing up the pavement.

First stop is one of our construction warehouses, where I mix up my concoction and load everything in the back of a van. I go to grab a mask, but stop myself. Nah, I want Fabio to see my face.

I make my way across the city to Fabio’s restaurant. It’s closed, likely in celebration of his wedding.

Hope he likes my gift.

Parking at the curb, I hop out and spray a message on the sidewalk.

Fuck with my girl again and find out.

Not the most melodramatic wording, but it gets the point across.

Tossing the spray paint bottle in the back of the van, I grab a cinder block and sprint to the front door. Smiling at the camera, I fling the block with all my might.

Glass shatters, and the alarm sounds as I hustle to the van, returning with my gift.

Taking the blowtorch, I set the bottle on fire before giving it a toss.