by Kiera Silver
“I’m just doing my job,” rasped a voice she recognized, the one from earlier in the afternoon. She shuddered as the sound of flesh striking flesh reverberated from the room.
“Guess what? Your job is over.”
Her heart stuttered when she heard a small click, and she didn’t want to believe it, but it sounded like a gun cocking, or perhaps the safety being removed. Deciding she couldn’t live with not knowing, she took a deep breath and peeked around the edge of the doorway, almost gasping at the sight before her.
The FBI agent was on his knees with two men she didn’t recognize standing beside him on either side, pinning him to the ground by his shoulders. Two more men in dark suits stood behind him, and Armo was directly in front of him with a gun pointed in his direction. She clapped a hand over her mouth to hold in her shocked cry when Armo fired the pistol a moment later, and blood sprayed from the agent’s head as he collapsed to the ground.
She didn’t have to wait around to see if he was dead. There was no way he had survived that bullet to the forehead
Even if he had… Armo would kill him.
Armo had already killed him.
The thought made her shudder, and tears blurred her eyes. A second later, her foot caught in one of the cracks in the cement floor, sending her flying forward. Fortunately, her hands and forearms absorbed most of the impact. She didn’t let the discomfort get to her as she scrambled to her feet and kept running.
She held the sobs in check until she had left the building and returned to the cab, which she was thankful to find still waiting for her. She was certain she hadn’t been gone anywhere near ten minutes, but she’d been afraid that the cabbie would have driven off as soon as she disappeared into the building. She was doubly thankful now that he hadn’t done so, since she would have no other way to flee.
After she’d scrambled into the back and quietly shut the door, he turned partially in his seat to look at her. “You okay, honey?”
She shook her head. “No. I’m pretty far from okay, actually.”
“What can I do?”
“Just drive,” she said in a voice thick with tears.
The cabdriver complied, and they were soon back on the road and navigating the city. When he asked for her destination, she mumbled, “The bus station,” before returning to silence.
It was only when she put a hand on her wrist to fiddle with the Cartier watch Armo had given her the previous evening that she realized she no longer wore it. She knew she’d had it on in the cab, because she had worried at it with her fingers then the way she was attempting to now. She must have lost it when she had fallen on the cement floor.
She had put on the watch herself this morning and hadn’t been entirely certain she’d had the antitheft clasp properly fastened. It seemed clear now that she hadn’t, but even worse than losing the watch was leaving behind proof that she had been there. She could only hope that none of Armo’s goons found the watch. With any luck, it had flown far away from where she had fallen.
If Armo knew that she had witnessed him murdering an FBI agent, there was no telling what he would do. Katie wanted to think he would just let her go, but she was trying to be pragmatic. She’d witnessed a serious crime committed by her lover, and he’d surely want to silence her. It was a terrifying thought, and she trembled, interspersed with sobs, as the driver took her to the station.
She had nothing but the backpack she had unconsciously grabbed from the condo, having slung it over her shoulder as habit as she had left to meet the cab. At least it contained her cards and cash, along with the credit card Armo had given her.
Even as she pulled out his credit card at the ATM machine, she felt guilty for using it. That was something she had promised herself she would never do, but now seemed like a good time to break it in. She should let him help fund her getaway plan, because it was his fault she was going to have to start over and go as far away as possible. It was also her fault for having trusted so blindly, though she had never expected to see, or even looked for, signs that her lover was in the mafia.
Feeling sick, she withdrew the maximum the ATM allowed before going through the process again with her own card. After that, she made her way to the ticket counter, where she bought five bus tickets heading in five different directions with Armo’s card. Then, she purchased one with her own small stash of cash.
She’d like to think that he wouldn’t follow her, but she was trying to be sensible and plan for the worst. Just because he enjoyed having her in his bed, and might even feel something for her, didn’t mean he was going to leave her as a loose end. She could send him to prison if she testified against him, which seemed like plenty of incentive for the average mafia man to hunt her down and eliminate that possibility.
As she waited for her bus, having chosen one that left quickly, she slipped into the ladies’ room and cut up Armo’s card with a pair of manicure scissors she found at the bottom of her backpack. She did the same with her own debit card, which wasn’t too painful, considering she had nearly emptied the balance with her ATM withdrawal. Then she took out the cell phone he’d gifted her a few months before and called her sister. Haley answered on the second ring. “What’s going on? I’ve been trying to get hold of you.”
Yes, the fourteen missed calls told her that much, she thought. “I love you, Haley. I just wanted you to know that. I’m not sure when I’ll be in contact again. I don’t know when it will be safe. Can you tell Mom I love her too? I’d love to call and tell her that myself, but I don’t have time to explain everything to her, and you can sort of guess why I’m leaving.”
“Are you in danger? Is he what I said he was?”
“I have to go.”
Before Haley could continue protesting, she hung up the phone and turned it off before leaving it on the counter. Her hope was that someone else would pick it up, and then if Armo used it to track her, that would send him on a wild goose chase. She felt a flutter of guilt at the thought that someone else might get injured because of her, but quickly dismissed the idea.
If Armo tracked the phone to wherever it was taken and discovered it wasn’t in her possession, she couldn’t imagine he’d have any reason to hurt the person who had taken the phone as soon as he ascertained they weren’t involved in her disappearance. He would just move on, frustrated and angry that route hadn’t panned out.
After that, she slipped from the bathroom and made her way to the bus, which would soon depart. She settled into a middle seat with a heavy heart, looking out at the terminal and the city lights beyond it with a sinking sensation in her stomach.
She was leaving the only home she’d ever known, leaving behind her family, and turning away from the man she loved. There was no other choice but to leave, though she wasn’t leaving alone. The thought brought her some comfort as she placed a hand on her abdomen when the bus engine roared to life. They pulled away several minutes later, and she left her old life behind her with a new one in front of her, and Katie found that she was terrified rather than excited by what lay ahead.
Chapter Four
Eleven Months Later
Armo stepped off the elevator, looking forward to reaching his suite, where he could toss back a drink and forget about the delicate negotiations he had undertaken with this city’s branch of the Mafioso. The last thing he wanted to do was think about business, especially after having spent the day with Gio Peretti talking terms and discussing mutual business endeavors that would increase both their profits by working together.
It was a sound plan, with the major drawback of how Gio wanted to seal the agreement between them. The last thing he wanted was a wife, especially one selected for him by Peretti. The other man hadn’t taken it well when he’d resisted either. Gio had offered his most beautiful sister, but it didn’t matter if she was young or old, curvy or skinny, or sweet or sour. He had no interest in a Peretti wife, because he didn’t want any wife.
A pang shot through him as he acknowledged that wasn’t entire
ly true. A year ago, there was a woman who he’d been strongly considering for the job, but that was before Katie had dropped off the face of the Earth. He’d spent weeks worrying about her, convinced that she had been kidnapped by one of his enemies, or was lying in a gutter injured or dead somewhere. He’d been certain an outside force had kept her away from him. He’d even entertained the idea that she was trapped in a coma at some unknown hospital.
Those theories had haunted him until one of his men found the Cartier watch at the building where they did the business that couldn’t be done at the club. Then he had known. He didn’t know all the details, but he knew enough to realize that she had witnessed the execution of Agent Parsing, or at least part of it. However much she’d seen had been enough to frighten her, and she had torn the watch from her wrist, flung it into the shadows, and ran out on him.
At that point, the sensible thing to do would have been to call off the search he’d been conducting for her. He’d gone through the motions of doing so, canceling contracts with their usual private investigators and contacts, but letting a few fall through the cracks. He was still no closer to finding her, even though the search was still unofficially ongoing. But all of his leads were coming up blank.
Armo had started to think that he would never find her again, and he wasn’t even sure why he continued looking. She clearly didn’t want to be with him anymore, so the smart thing to do would be to cut his losses and move on. If she had witnessed the death of Agent Parsing she was a liability, but he wasn’t terribly concerned. If she hadn’t gone to the cops in the last year, she probably wasn’t going to.
He could just let her go and move on, which was what this trip was supposed to be about. He was supposed to be moving on and securing a cooperative agreement with the Peretti’s. He had managed to do that by standing firm against a marriage merger. He couldn’t imagine marrying anyone now, and it amazed him he had once entertained the idea of proposing to Katie Collins.
Thinking of her brought her face to mind, which was why he was certain that he was imagining things when he looked up as a maid drew closer, pushing her cart full of towels and linens in his direction, and he realized that she had Katie’s face. He froze, biting back the urge to run over to the startled cleaner and make sure it was the woman who had left him. Or more likely, not the woman who had left him. What were the odds of finding her like this, especially after looking for so long?
As she got closer, he realized that he couldn’t allow himself to be seen if it really was her. That would be sure to spook her and send her running again, and he didn’t want that. He knew he had to reacquire her, even if he didn’t know why the acquisition of this particular woman was so important to him. He hadn’t yet figured out what he was going to do with her, and he was certain she would simply complicate matters.
But he couldn’t wait to have her back again.
He stepped inside his room and closed the door almost completely, but left a small crack that he could see through into the hallway. As the maid came nearer, it was as though she was complying with his need to determine her identity, because she paused briefly outside the door to reach into the cart for something before she moved on. He didn’t have a doubt in his mind that it was Katie. He didn’t know why she was in this hotel, or what had brought them both here at the same time, but he was ready to find out.
She had run from him once, but she wouldn’t have the chance again.
As Katie shed her maid’s uniform and dressed as quickly as possible in jogging pants and a T-shirt, she cursed the wannabe rock star in suite two-fourteen. He must have gone on a bender to leave so much damage in his wake. She and three other maids had been assigned to clean up the damage on top of her usual rooms, leaving her running late, and she didn’t have the luxury of being late. That was a trait she’d had to curb sharply in the past year.
Finally, she was out the employee entrance of the hotel and rushing down the street to the parking lot. Each time she made the trek, it seemed longer than the last time, and while she understood why the hotel would make its employees park two blocks away to save space for their guests, she wasn’t any happier with the situation than she was any other day.
Her scalp prickled, and she had the uneasy feeling she was being watched. This was the second day in a row she’d felt like that, and she glanced over her shoulders in both directions, though she saw nothing. Yesterday, she had simply dismissed it as paranoia, but now she was uncertain and not as ready to dismiss her intuition.
With that in mind, she grasped her key ring more firmly, her finger on the button of her pepper spray, as she approached her car, a tired looking Datsun that was probably older than she was.
Even as she slid the key into the lock, she still was on guard. It was almost anticlimactic when strong arms wrapped around her, and a hand went around her mouth, clamping it shut. She should have been terrified, and part of her was, but the feminine part of her recognized the scent of her attacker even before he spoke. She couldn’t resist the impulse to inhale deeply and savor his unique aroma.
“Hello, Katie,” said Armo, sounding perfectly pleasant.
Oddly enough, it was his tone of voice that spurred her to fight, and she began to struggle in his arms. Though it did little good, she still kicked and squirmed as he dragged her away from her Datsun and shoved her into an SUV. She hadn’t paid any attention to the nondescript vehicle.
Before she could try to scramble out, he’d already slid in and closed the door behind him. She slid across the seat and tried the opposite door, but she knew it wouldn’t open even as she tried to pull on it. “Let me out!”
“Sure,” said Armo, sounding almost affable. “As soon as we’re back home, I’ll let you out of here, and then you can tell me exactly what the fuck is going on.”
His easygoing tone had started to slip, and she shivered as she looked into his eyes, overwhelmed by the amount of rage she saw there. The warm whiskey-brown color was more clouded, clearly revealing his rage despite the calm tone of his voice. She was terrified suddenly, the delayed instinct finally kicking in as she realized she wasn’t safe with the man she had once loved with all her heart.
She still loved him, but she wasn’t going to admit that. She’d been fighting against that feeling for the last eleven months, ever since that night in the warehouse. “What are you going to do to me?”
He shrugged, not bothering to answer. His gaze never left hers even as he spoke to the driver of the dark SUV, saying, “Get on the freeway. It’s a long drive home, but I’m not risking taking her on an airplane. The airport is too crowded, even if we chartered a plane.”
Her heart stuttered, and she shook her head. “No, we can’t leave the city.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re in no position to dictate what we can or can’t do, Katie.”
Reality rushed in, and Katie realized that she was going to have to tell him everything and expose the most precious person in her life to the dangerous reality of what his father was. “Please, I have to be at the daycare center in the fifteen minutes. If I’m not, Lorraine will keep him for another fifteen minutes, and then she’ll call social services. I can’t let that happen, please!” Not since she was living under a false name and working illegally while driving a car without a legal license.
He frowned at her. “What are you rambling on about?”
She clutched her fingers together and took a deep breath. “I need to get my son from daycare. Please, Armo. I have to get him right now!”
He stiffened, and his normally tanned complexion paled slightly for a moment as his eyes narrowed. “Won’t the father pick him up?”
Katie shook her head. “Please, I have to get him.”
Still looking stiff and angry, his lips barely moved when he asked, “What’s the address?”
She gave it to the driver, and the other dark-suited goon in the passenger seat punched it into the GPS before silence dominated the vehicle. She shifted moderately in her seat,
wondering if she should say something, but her heart was beating too fast.
Did he really believe she had immediately gone from him to someone else and gotten pregnant? Or was he in denial, or perhaps simply preparing himself for the worst outcome? She bit her lip as she pondered the decisions before her, slanting a glance at him from the corner of her eye to find him staring at her with a brooding expression.
“How old is your son?”
“Three months.” Nervousness assailed her. Surely, he had realized the truth by now.
He looked strangely calm, except for the maelstrom of emotion visible in his darkened eyes. “Hurry up,” he snapped to the driver, but didn’t look at her again.
She sank against the seat, trying to bolster herself for the possible outcomes before her. She still didn’t know why Armo had come for her, but she assumed that it was because he knew she had been in the warehouse that night. The discovery that he had a son might or might not sway whatever fate he’d already chosen for her.
Even if he decided to kill her, surely he would take care of the baby. She couldn’t imagine that the man she had known would be capable of murdering his own flesh and blood. It didn’t provide much as a measure of comfort to think about her son being raised by the mafia man beside her, but at least she could be fairly confident that her baby would be safe.
Seven minutes later, they stopped outside the daycare center, and she tried opening her door again before remembering she was locked in. “You have to let me out so I can go get him!”
Armo grabbed her wrist in a hard grip and dragged her across the seat toward him as he opened his own door and stepped out. He pulled her out with him, a little less carefully than he would have in the past. He was still vibrating with rage. “We’ll go together, Katie. Like a big, happy family.” His bitterness was almost as chilling as the glare he directed her way. “That means no bullshit, and no trying to get their attention or engage other people in our mess. Right?”
