Page 11 of Hidden Ties (Made Men #11)

NINE

G-O-O-D-N-I-G-H-T

T aking a ride from Salvatore Lastra was to her benefit. It made her able to eat food faster and brought her home quicker than waiting on a bus for an hour. It also gave her a chance to fuck with Sal for a bit and pay him back for what he had done to her.

Now that he had just pulled into her driveway, it was over, and she hoped to never have the pleasure of being in his presence again.

“Bye!”

Throwing herself out of his car, she went to her precious home, not even bothering to take her trash with her. However, that might’ve been her mistake as Sal chased after her.

“Hey, wait,” he said, grabbing her bag of empty, smelly wrappings and drink from his car.

Valerie didn’t bother looking back; she went to her front door but found it strangely locked. She lifted the well-used welcome mat she had bought from Goodwill. “You have a trash can at your place, I’m sure. Good day.”

Not taking the hint, Sal watched her pull the key to her front door from under her mat, appalled. “Christ, Valerie, you’re a single woman living alone; why don’t you just place the key above the welcome mat next time?”

“First of all, like you really care about my safety.” She gave him a scolding look, wanting to shove the sharp metal object right up his ass.

“That’s real rich coming from you, considering you let me rot in prison over the weekend.

And secondly, I have a boyfriend, thank you very much, and he’s big.

Huge .” She started sliding her key into the hole.

She was almost home sweet home. “So, if you don’t mind, I’d like you to leave me the fuck alone before I get my boyfriend to beat the shit out of you. ”

“Oh yeah, you have an online boyfriend? Where does he live exactly? Wisconsin?”

Her smile faded. They both knew she was full of shit. Turning the knob, she was ready to slam the door in his face. “Go fuck yoursel—what the fuck!”

Valerie and Sal stood at the front door with their mouths agape at the scene. Any trash in his hands was dropped to the ground in shock. Her whole house had practically been torn apart.

It took her a moment to get past the shock, and once she did, she ran right to her computer room with her heart beating out of her chest. She knew in her heart it was gone before she reached it.

Still, nothing could have prepared her for it actually being gone.

The only thing remaining was her computer desk that had been flipped over and lay broken.

Deadly silent with rage fueling her imp, she walked to the corner of her room and picked up the Harlequin cosplay bat that still stood leaning against the wall and gripped it tightly.

The sound of a hard crash made Sal run inside her house and call out to her as he hurried toward the sound. “Are you ok—”

“Those motherfucking bastards!”

At the scene he stumbled in on, it was safe to say, she’s definitely not okay.

Screaming at the top of her lungs, she beat at a flipped-over desk with a wooden bat that held bold red lettering. Sal wasn’t one hundred percent sure, considering he could only catch flashes of the lettering, but he was pretty certain by the fifth swing it spelled out G-O-O-D-N-I-G-H-T.

“Those fucking cops took my computer, didn’t they?” She stopped to ask, looking right at him as her knuckles turned white from her deathly grip.

In all his years devoted to the mafia, he had never been so scared in his life. “Yep. Mmhmm. Yes, they sure did.”

“Those fuckers!” she screamed again, slamming her bat back down on the desk. “My whole life’s work was on it!”

Sal stepped back a bit when a piece of flying wood bounced off his glasses. “Your life’s work?”

“Yes, my video game.” She hit down with the bat. “Bubblegum Blitz.” She slammed her bat down again. “I’ve been trying to sell it to Game Hookup the last few months.”

“Oh …” He lifted his fallen glasses up his nose, thinking back to him scouring her computer last night.

Sal had not only opened the game, but he had played the fucking thing all night after getting sucked in.

Since he hadn’t played video games since before he joined the mafia, he no longer kept up with the newest games anymore because he never had the time.

The game was so good that he had assumed it was one that not only had been released already but had been designed by a huge gaming company. “I see.”

Thinking it was best to let her get it out of her system and tire herself out, he let her get a few more hits in before he tried to step in. He held out his hands as he approached, and she stopped swinging enough for him to take the bat, and only when it was in his hands did he break it to her.

“Listen, they are not going to let you anywhere near your computer, as I’m sure it’s locked away into evidence,” he quickly added the last bit in a rush, too afraid to tell her that he was the one who actually had it.

“Yes, they told me I couldn’t use any electronic devices and confiscated my phone, too,” she admitted, clearly feeling dumb at her outburst. It was obvious she should have known her computer would have been gone.

“Okay, well, that would have been good to know,” he muttered under his breath. “So, you just gotta work on proving your innocence … without all that.”

She patted her forehead; it looked like Valerie was about to faint. “I feel dizzy.”

Sal quickly turned over her computer chair that had been left unscathed. The poor Ikea desk, however, was a total loss.

“Sit down. I’ll get you some wat—” By the time he had finished setting the chair upright, she was tilting toward the ground. “Oh shit!”

Sal barely caught her in time before she hit the floor.

Cradling her limp body in his arms, he found himself preferring her quiet and unconscious.

He was able to study her up close again, seeing those many freckles that kissed her skin.

She was awfully tiny for a girl who ate so much.

Her small frame was soft in his arms, and he found himself wondering dangerously how she’d look without those heavy, thick, and oversized clothes.

She didn’t dress to his taste, and as he tenderly brushed a rogue strand of hair out of her face, the fun color of it was another thing he didn’t prefer on women.

But, for Valerie, it suited her. Her dark blue hair shined like the ocean lit by moonlight.

You could tell her look was inspired by her video games.

It was just her, and Valerie was nothing but herself at all times.

“Valerie?” he cooed, stuck between wanting to wake her as he became concerned with how long she had been out and not wanting her conscious and speaking again. God only knew how the unpredictable and psychotic woman would react when she did wake in his arms.

Sal’s worry only grew, and so he tried calling her name again. The slight, groggy moan that escaped her lips had him tightening his jaw. Not wanting to think he was possibly starting to become attracted to her, he patted her cheek, and his tone got harsher.

“Valerie?”

Lashes finally started to lift off her cheeks. “W-What happened?”

“You fainted.”

“I w-what?”

She was clearly still a bit dizzy, so Sal thought it would be best to move her to a place she could better relax.

Lifting her off the ground in his arms, he left the room in search of finding a safe place.

He spotted the futon in the living room and went to lay her down gently on the rickety furniture.

He really hoped this wasn’t where she was forced to sleep every night.

Taking advantage of the closeness, she felt up his biceps, trying to squeeze hard through his suit. “Wow, you’re stronger than you look.”

Instantly, Sal reached for her forehead, thinking he might need to take her to the hospital. Valerie had to be critically ill to give him somewhat of a compliment. When he touched her skin, it was slightly sweaty but not hot or anything.

“Let me get you some water.”

As he rushed to the kitchen, he swore if she didn’t feel better in five minutes or so, he would be taking her ass to the ER.

“On your way back from the kitchen,” she began huskily, “could you bring me some Twizzlers?”

And … she’s back.

Sal rolled his eyes heavenward, feeling foolish at himself for being so concerned with his snooping neighbor’s wellbeing, which he had wished many weekends of her eviction or death. Whichever one came first.

“Where are they?” He didn’t see them anywhere in the tiny old kitchen.

“In the candy drawer,” she yelled back over the couch, sounding perfectly fine. “The one closest to the fridge.”

“Of course, you have a fucking candy drawer,” he muttered quietly under his breath as he tried opening it to find it stuffed to the brim with MoonPies and Nutty Buddies.

“I don’t see any!” he called out again in frustration when its contents only held items mostly from that Little Debbie bitch.

“The drawer on the other side of the fridge!”

Already opening the other one, he found it, too, was stuffed but held items like Gummy Bears, Starbursts, and Snickers, along with her Twizzlers.

When he returned with the Twizzlers in hand, Valerie smiled.

“Sorry, that other one was my snack drawer.”