Page 16

Quinn

Tears dried on my face—I can feel the salty streaks pulling at my skin when I frown. I passed out from exhaustion and woke up a day later in a house that’s renovated with fresh coats of paint, heated floors, and a modern style fireplace in the living room.

Mara—Ferraro’s wife—is making me tea against my wishes in the kitchen. She always struck me as a yes-woman, and something about her rubbed me the wrong way, but I let it go for Ferraro in the past. Now, though? Fat chance.

The piece of shit rookie stands at the front door, blocking it, with his hands on his hips. He sways back and forth nervously, because he knows what he did is fucking wrong .

Dragging me here against my will… I’m glad I got a good few knees to his nuts on the way. His face has a cat-like scratch on it too. Can’t wait for the few bruises to swell up on his ribs, not that I’ll ever see those.

Fuck him.

Fuck Ferraro.

I’d charge the rookie again, but my arm is dead from being manhandled. I have to sit put for a while until the numbness subsides. Gather my thoughts.

The way Ferraro acted was so spastic and out of nowhere. I’ve been “gallivanting” since my father was taken. Why now?

And why so aggressive?

“Hunnie, please, sit down. Relax,” Mara says from the kitchen as the tea kettle begins to whistle. “We’ve all been worried sick about your father, and you know Ferry is going to find him. He’s been doing round the clock shifts. Sorry if he was a little hard on yo—”

“Let me out of this house.” I hold her gaze angrily as she strolls in and places my cup down on a coaster.

The glass coffee table in front of me is curvy and sleek. Some new upgrades to this house I don’t quite remember from the last time I was here.

Mara doesn’t work… and a cop can make decent money… but this?

The house is a shithole on the outside. Crumbling shingles and a paintjob from yesteryear. But in here? It’s the Plaza Hotel. Everything about this set up is weird.

Something stinks.

“Quinn, I don’t get involved with Ferry’s affairs.” Mara shrugs. “I just know he’s trying to keep his best friend’s daughter safe. Maybe there’s someone dangerous out there targeting people your father knows. Best to stay here.”

“Why? Because no one would ever think to break into a cop’s house? Hah .” I have a mind to toss the hot tea in this ignorant woman’s face. Auntie M. Never again will I consider these people my family. I’m battered and bruised because of them.

“We can protect you better here,” she says sadly.

“I’m not sitting on house arrest. Where are the charges?” I show the bruises forming on my wrists.

Her lips fold in.

“Yeah, some protection .”

“It’s tough love, hunnie. Ferry needs things a certain way so he can work.” She pats the seat beside her on her cushy new couch.

I’m boiling at this woman. I always thought her a little dull and submissive, though pleasant. Now that we’re at odds? This is some Midsommar bullshit.

“We’re done here. You can go fuck off, Mara.” I hold her gaze some more, daring her to say something else, then turn to Reggie. “Hey, you . How do you feel about what you’ve done? Huh?”

I’m ready to test him again. Screw it.

He stiffens, ready for me to push him.

“What’s the matter? Scared that docile woman is going to rat on you to Ferry ?” I challenge him, teeth bared.

He shakes his head.

“Probies always scared,” I say, referencing the new recruits to the PD.

They’re always worried they’ll be placed on graveyard shifts as punishment, or in ghetto areas.

That’s why they’re so easy to mold. “Where’s your integrity?

Did you get on the force to help innocent people?

Or are you just a dumb jock waiting for orders? ”

“Both, Quinn. Now please, sit down,” he finally says.

The exhaustion in his voice is disarming. He didn’t want to do what he felt he had to, and certainly doesn’t want to be babysitting me. Too bad for him I’ll be escaping this prison the first chance I get. Right now seems a good enough time.

Dad’s safe.

My phone is at my house.

Silver is probably wondering where the hell I went. Oh God , if he thinks I fled to the police, he might harm Dad.

No, he wouldn’t. He knows how thankful I am. In all honesty, he didn’t have to do any of what he did. He’s good in his heart. I know it.

These people around me, however… Struck with fear and riddled with complacency. My gut tells me to jump out the window and make a run for it. Would they really call the cops and claim me as a missing person? A perp, even?

That would be bad for Silver. Best to calm down and figure out the best way out of here.

“You want me to back off?” I say.

“Don’t want any trouble, Ms. Dall.” He puts his hands up.

“Acting all innocent all of a sudden. Okay. Go send someone to get my work laptop.”

“I was told you are on leave, and was instructed that no communication devices are to be given to you at this time, until Lieutenant Ferraro has assessed the situation.”

Can’t say I didn’t try to be diplomatic.

I node slowly. “I see.”

“Hunnie, c’mon. Let’s watch some Bridgerton again. I know you didn’t love the last season, but—”

“No thank you, Mara. You have fun with that. I’ll go raid your fridge since there’s nothing else to do.”

“Go right ahead, sweetie.”

I open the fridge door so Reggie can only see my feet, if he’s looking, and quickly assess the back window and back door. Looks clear enough. It leads into their backyard where I’d have to hop a pretty high fence.

Good thing I’m somewhat athletic.

I hope Silver forgives me for getting some PD heat on myself, but I can’t have him thinking I betrayed him.

Okay.

My heart crawls into my throat like a throbbing slug. Anxiety squirms into my legs for what I’m about to do. Will they catch me?

How the fuck am I going to get a cab running around the streets in my ridiculous fuzzy socks? I guess I’ll find out.

Balancing the fridge door so it will stay open, I let go and make a quick run for it. One, two locks, then I’m out the screen door. I’m stomping down the stairs of an unfinished wooden porch, skipping two at a time.

“ Hey! ” An officer grabs me from out of nowhere.

Not Reggie. Someone else. Five o’clock shadow. Dark features. I’ve never seen him before, and his nose will never be this pretty again.

Whack!

I elbow him, spin, and knee his junk, only for Reggie to leap down all of the stairs and restrain my arms for the second time in twenty-four hours.

“Fuck. You .” I spit on his boots.

My arm goes numb twice as fast, and it feels like something might tear. Goddammit.

“Two cops, really? ” I scowl, jerking in Reggie’s grasp as the other one stuffs a tissue up his nose.

“Ms. Dall. It’s for your safety,” the Greek-looking guy with a busted nose says.

“That’s called wasted resources!” As hot breath breathes down my neck, I have a mind to head butt Reggie and give him a matching nose bleed. I’ve been taught how to do it properly in self-defense class. Actually, I’m kind of proud of myself for not freezing up like I did with Dad.

Yeah… this is new.

Maybe it’s because of this chaotic situation, or maybe Silver. I don’t know, but I want to fight these two right now.

“Back in you go,” Reggie says, jerking me toward the stairs.

Both men are obviously annoyed, holding their tongues for the most part.

Two cops stationed at his house though…

What’s going on?

Uncle F was sweating profusely when he took me in the first place… because he’s in trouble. Money. Something .

What does that have to do with me?

Epiphanies shouldn’t feel like a wrench to the head, but this one does. The man who held my hand on the way to the swing sets when I was five years old, the one who cracked open beers at barbeques with my father… Could it be…

“Boys, goodness. Here, have some ice packs.” Mara comes out frantically. “Ooo, that nose, David. Should we call the hospital?”

“I’m fine. Just a little accident.”

I could keep mouthing off, but what’s the point? I just have to figure a way out when no one’s looking, even if I have to climb down from the second floor.

I keep quiet and let Reggie follow me upstairs as I head back to the room I woke up in this morning.

I’m starting to smell. My clear-polish nails are cracking, and so is my skin from the winter cold.

I need a shower and a manicure, and possibly a lobotomy if these thoughts keep swirling around my head.

Uncle F?

My brow furrows when I see a duffle bag on the floor with one of my blue star pairs of panties sticking out of it. I glance up at Reggie with a whole new sort of rage.

He throws his hands up. “Lieutenant was looking out for you.”

“Oh yeah? Then where’s my phone?”

He stares at me blankly.

“Thought so. Get the hell out of here.” I shove him back.

God, that’s so embarrassing. I gather my panties, sloth socks, a white fuzzy sweater, and a new pair of leggings.

At least I don’t have to borrow someone else’s things…

I guess. As I stomp out of the room—ignoring Reggie—I head straight for the orange-tiled bathroom that looks like the sun blew up in it.

“Going to follow me in here, too?” I spin on Reggie.

“No ma’am.” He wants to smirk, and I hate him for it.

I hate all this. It stinks of foul play.

As the raindrop shower falls on me, I forget where I am for a few minutes. The water is so warm and soothing. I’ve been on edge every second of every day… until I saw Dad again.

I exhale, letting that moment replay in my mind. He’s alive. He’s okay . And I have to get back to Silver so it stays that way.

Silver…

Arosso Deruso Valentino. What a freakin’ name. The term silver fox was made in his honor. And I miss his lips as much as I miss his big arms around me. He smells different from all the young men I’ve dated… like he’s trudged through life and now has a man’s musk to prove it.

My whole body starts to tingle.

I miss him.

I want to be around him.

The walls start to close in around me. My world turns in the worst way. Reality, it seems, is more like a haunted fun house these last few days, and now I’m in the main room. Uncle goddamn F and his anti-depressant-riddled wife.

Time to think up a plan.

After a half hour, I get out and dry off, looking at my bruises that glisten like dewy leaves on a summer day. I’m covered in them. All from the people who are supposed to protect me.

I scoff and stretch the leggings over my legs, feeling like I lost a bit of muscle since I haven’t been eating or working out properly.

When I toss on my fuzzy sweater, it feels like home.

And that will work wonderfully with the plan.

Take a nap, stay up into the wee hours of the night, and be gone .

Sounded great on paper, except the day goes by so slowly. I only doze for minutes at a time, because I’m on high alert. I’m not home.

Patience is a virtue I’ll learn this day. For Dad.

When the clock ticks midnight, I open the second-floor window in my room and taunt David waiting directly under in case I try to do anything funny. It’ll be the fifth time I’ve given him the finger up here within the last four hours.

“Still awake, prick?” I call.

“Mhm.”

He does sound tired. A part of me wants to drop this wooden cabinet on his head. But then I’d be no better than the Russians, right?

Another hour goes by. He’s dozing on the side of the house. Even if I did try to climb down using the drain pipe, I’d probably bring it all crashing down with me, then I’d have to run. No shot.

But! I can pretend I’m getting a glass of water downstairs and try out the back again. All I’d have to do is outrun Reggie, I think. It’s my only shot, really.

When I peek out the window again to make sure David didn’t magically read my thoughts and edge toward the backyard… I smirk.

He’s fast asleep standing up. Snoring , even.

Now would be a good time to drop a cup of water, but I figure giving him a busted nose is enough for one day. I smile at his stupid posture. He’ll jerk awake when he starts to slide.

Shhrthm! Shhrthm!

Two lights flash to my right, and blood squirts out of David’s limp body. He falls with a thump , and silent sirens go off in my head. Two men in masks, the same men.

Holy goddamn hell.

The bratva is here to collect.