Page 61 of His Lair
It’s on the tip of my tongue to lie to him, to tell him anything but what I really plan on doing right now. “I’m going to find the asshole responsible for shooting up Carlo’s apartment, and I’m going to kill him.”
“You don’t need to do that.” Sammie steps towards me again.
“Actually, I do. It’s my job,” I insist, although it’s not really. Emmanuel hasn’t asked me to go and do anything. I’m doing this because it’s personal.
“No, you don’t. We know who it is. We’re going to get him.” Sammie rakes a hand through his hair. “I don’t want you to do this.”
“What would you have me do then? Sit around and twiddle my thumbs?”
“Yes, at least you’d be safe.”
“Because I’m a woman, right? I appreciate your concern, Mr. Russo.” I pause and shake my head. “Actually, I really don’t. It’s completely sexist that you think I can’t do the same job I’ve been doing just fine for years. A job I’m really fucking good at.” I throw my hands in the air. “You know what? Fuck you and your sexist views.” I go to walk away and stop. “Oh, and you know that woman you’ve been looking for? The blonde from the stairwell? That was me. You’re welcome, by the way.” I turn and stomp down the hallway.
“You’re wrong. I want you safe because I love you,” Sammie calls out.
My steps and my heart both falter. I heard him wrong. There is no way he just said that he loves me. He doesn’t love me. He loves a version of me, but not the full version. He loves the sweet, innocent girl I portrayed.
Is that girl part of the real me? Sure, in a lot of ways, but there’s also more to me than her. A dark and twisted side he hasn’t seen. A side of me that will stop at nothing to protect the people I care about.
“You don’t love me, Sammie,” I tell him without bothering to look at him. “Because if you did, you’d understand why I have to do this.” This time, when I walk away, he doesn’t try to stop me.
I make it as far as the garage. I don’t have a car onsite and was fully planning on “borrowing” one from E’s collection.
“You need to let Carlo deal with him,” Emmanuel says, stepping out of a dark corner like a damn creeper.
“Jeez, E, why are you hiding in the shadows?” I ask him. “I could have shot you.”
“You’re far too smart to try to shoot me, Lai,” the cocky bastard says. He’s right though. I’m not stupid enough to think I could shoot him and make it out of this house alive.
“I need to borrow a car.”
“Did your yelling match with Sammie blow out an eardrum? I said you can’t touch this.” Emmanuel slips his hands into his pockets. He’s trying to pull off a carefree exterior. It really doesn’t work on him.
“They could have gotten Jazzy,” I tell him.
“I know. Which is exactly why her father needs this.” I hate it when Emmanuel makes sense. I get it. Carlo needs this kill more than I do.
“Okay, but I still need a car,” I grumble.
“Take the Merc.” Emmanuel nods his head towards a black G-Wagon.
“Thank you,” I tell him. “I’m assuming now that my cover is blown, the job is finished?”
“The job is finished, but that doesn’t mean you need to leave town.”
“I don’t really have a reason to stay.”
“Don’t you?” Emmanuel lifts a brow at me.
“He hates me. He doesn’t understand me. People never do.” I shrug. “It’s okay, I knew this would happen.”
“For what it’s worth, I think you should give him a chance to understand you,” Emmanuel says.
“I… My dad asked me to visit. I need to deal with that and Sammie needs time.”
“Time for what?”
“Time to miss me, time to realize what a chauvinistic ass he’s being.” I roll my eyes, and Emmanuel chuckles.