Page 20

Quinn

I’m in a strange state of mind. Somewhere between excitement, exhaustion, and relief. It’s been a few days since that wild night of murder and skin-of-my-teeth rescuing. I’m a missing person now, apparently, and thankfully, my ghost of a man left not a trace for them to find me.

Because I don’t want to be found.

This is the happiest I’ve been in as long as I can remember. It’s not just that we almost had sex for the first time, nor that the kinky orgasm was extensively mind blowing, but that… he seems to give a shit about me. And I don’t know if it’s the falling for your dark hero, or what, but I am.

He goes to check on my father multiple times a day between sets—or so he says. I believe him. There’s no reason not to at this point. What’s more, he promised resolution now that it’s clear Ferraro is involved with this whole debacle.

Now, here I am, in one of Silver’s lavish stage houses on the nicer side of Jersey, waiting for him to come home from a long day of work.

I’m sitting cross-legged on a plushy couch with the heat blasting, wrapped in a sweater and joggers, barefoot.

The heated floors are a nice touch. It’s like I’m dipping my toe in a hot spring every time I decide to get up. The mafia sure likes to live lavishly.

I huff, not sure what to do with myself.

Can’t go online, TV isn’t hooked up, no books in the house.

The only thing I really can do is think about the situation, and Silver, and us .

Wow, I can’t believe I’m actually sitting here missing a man.

It’s such a new sensation that I don’t really know how to process it.

Even though he’s deathly hot, and our chemistry is electric, still… his guard’s up. He won’t let himself breathe around me unless it’s right after we fool around. It’s like that’s the only time he can relax or something. Must be a lot on his mind.

Who can blame him?

He’s got the captain’s daughter, the captain himself, and a whole bratva wondering where we both are. Not to mention, he can’t be in a good spot with his own family after pulling a stunt like this.

I’ve decided, since he promised resolution with my dad, I’m going to stop holding it over his head for a day and really try to get to know him. There’s something there that has to be explored, outside the bedroom.

Hours go by. He’s tying up loose ends, trying to get the pulse on the missing cop, bratva situation, whatever, but he’s not here.

I only get him for a short time at strange hours.

Sue me if I say I haven’t been picturing a life with this man.

I said it once and I’ll say it again—he and my dad would get along in an alternate reality.

I know it. Thing is, living these weird hours waiting for him to come home? Not going to work for me.

Am I acting crazy?

I get up, enjoying the warm heat under the soles of my feet as I walk over to the mirror in the open-concept dining room.

The bruise under my eye is turning colors, but it’s not as puffy as yesterday.

The cuts on my lip are healing too. When I lift my shirt, there’s a galaxy of bruises from being manhandled by Dishwater.

I’d be lying if watching his head pop wasn’t somewhat satisfying, in a sick sadistic sort of way.

Don’t get me wrong, I cried for almost two straight days recanting the events. It was awful . It’s just, these situations aren’t black and white. It’s like being dragged into some halfway house to hell, and understanding all of the fear and sick retribution that can be had there.

Thinking of Ferraro’s Mr. Hyde personality swap makes me realize he’s been living in that halfway house for some time. A gambling addiction? Sending the Russians to your own house? What kind of sick, desperate asshole would… ugh .

More hours go by. I pace around the house, contemplating how this whole situation is going to play out.

I mean, I can’t hide here forever, right?

I suppose I could get a wig and wear contacts.

Maybe go fake tanning or something… Then I’d be living in fear.

Arosso said the don’s wife, Ellie, did that when she was in hiding. It worked, too.

When my dad is let free, there’s no way he’ll accept that I’m missing. And honestly, there’s no way I would accept not seeing him again. So, when Silver says he’s got a solution, he better have a good one.

Whenever I think about him, my body gets hot like I want to start throwing plates or something. I don’t know, something about him… I always want to fight for his attention. And that’s like, all the time these days.

I’m a housewife waiting for my hot older man to get home. No, I’m not even that—I have no dishes to clean or house to vacuum. Everything’s taken care of. Ugh .

Another hour goes by and I hear the automatic gates open. Looking to the security camera, a black Chevy pulls in that makes my heart flutter. It’s him.

Should I annoy him? Give him a big hug? Or let him unwind?

He punches a code into the back door, and I get a glimpse of his silver hair and mixed beard.

His concentration face is cute. Ruffled brow, perfect lips in a tight frown, bow-shaped lines around them.

I’m happy to just take a beat and watch him, pretending he’s all mine in some married fantasy rearing from my head.

Fsssh.

The back reinforced sliding door glides open, and it takes every fiber in my body not to run up to him. He’s holding a brown paper bag again. Groceries?

When our eyes meet, he holds back a grin, but mine is plastered on my face.

“What are you so smiley about?” He avoids my gaze, because he doesn’t want to know I can tell he likes me.

“I’m alive,” I say.

“That’s true. Guess I never considered what it’s like to be rescued prey.”

“Hey!” I stomp up to him. He’s already triggered me.

I stare at him angrily, looking up and holding my poker face, until he disarms me with a kiss.

His lips are cool from outside, and that cools my whole temper.

“What’s in the bag?” I turn, and he moves it away from my sight. “ Hey. What’s in the damn bag, Silver? It’s not a head, is it?”

“Don’t be an ass. I know that might be hard for you,” he growls.

I push him, feeling those rock-hard abs behind his suit jacket. “Can’t believe I looked forward to seeing you.”

“Yeah, same,” he admits, and my whole body melts.

Did he really just say that?

Usually, it’s me flirting with him. I’m actually at a loss for words, so instead, I lunge for the bag. He just sighs and lets me peek inside. Organic turkey—my guess is for lunch. A loaf of bread. Fruit. And… what the hell?

I pull out a packaged pair of floppy-eared dog socks, and I cough out a laugh of disbelief.

He turns away, embarrassed.

“Silver Valentino,” I call the full name I made up for him. “ Did you…? ”

“You seemed to be missing something in your duffle bag.” He points at my bare feet. “Thought I’d give you some comfort in a tough time.”

Melt.

Dead.

Who is this man?

“Don’t make a thing of it.” His loafers clack as he makes way for the closet.

I’m left standing there with my jaw hanging open, and immediately rip open the packaging and slip them on my feet. May be the best gift of all time. Or most unexpected, anyway.

Wait a second…

“Why are you being so nice?” I pry, walking up to him as he stuffs his duffle bag full of items. “Is something wrong? Are you buttering me up so I don’t start screaming when you tell me something terrible?”

His back is to me, but I can still sense the scowl on his face. “Not particularly,” he says, and I don’t buy it.

“ Silver. ” I pinch his side, and he slaps me away. “Spit it out.” I grab his arm to stop his ritual.

He eyes me angrily and turns on me. “I’ve decided on my course.”

“Without talking to me about it?” I frown. “What am I to you, chopped liver?”

My mom used to say that. Oh my God, I’m becoming just like her .

“I’ve decided I’m going to let you and your father free… in due time.”

I want to explode with excited relief! Only… why is his face so angry then?

“Yeah, thought you’d be thrilled about that,” he says, digging back into the closet.

“What—” I realize by him doing that, a world of disdain might be coming his way. “Arosso,” I use his name when I’m being serious. “I’ll never say anything.”

“I know you wouldn’t. That’s one of the reasons I’ve decided.”

“Then what—”

“I told you.” He pinches my chin lightly.

“Ferraro being involved changes everything. He’ll go to the ends of the earth to capture you, if that wasn’t clear.

He put his wife in the crossfire for fuck’s sake, which means the Russian’s have a mark on his head for not successfully delivering your father to Yuri.

Not to mention, the massacre at that house is a crime scene, and you’re a missing person.

If I let you and your father go right now , you’d both be captured by either Ferraro or the bratva, both of which will land you in the same place. ”

“I don’t follow… The good cops would be able to protect us. We’ll be fine, and you disappear. We’ll meet again in the shadows.”

“Don’t be a fool, Quinn. Not only will your father have a million questions about a missing person miraculously turning up, but you’ll need me to help clean up this mess. That’s the only way you’ll be safe. We don’t know how deep Ferraro’s ring of cops goes. It’s doubtful he’s working on his own.”

“I have faith this will all work out somehow, Silver.” I’m trying my best to remain hopeful.

He scoffs. “You’ll be okay. Me? This is my last job.”

“Silver stop talking like that. ”

“The facts are simple—we’re going to have to work together, and your father will never keep quiet about a guy like me. Not for long, anyway.”

“I’ll make him,” I say, heat flaring up my chest. “There’s no way I’ll let him put you in danger. No fucking way. After all you’ve done?”

“An old bear like him? His cop instincts will take over. He doesn’t see the grey like you do.”

“Silver… I need you to trust me like I trust you.”

“It’s inevitable, kid. Your starry eyes won’t save this.”

“ Hey. ” I slap his belly. “Cut it out. I’m not a child, and I think I know that man a little better than you. He’ll come around .”

“And when he doesn’t? The whole mafia will know who got in between the Russians, and then…”

My throat tightens. “Then what?”

He turns away sharply, making me fear the worst.

Mucus starts to loosen in my nose, and my eyes begin to burn. “I won’t let anything happen to either of you, Silver. Ever again .”

He kisses my cheek. “If it were only up to you.”