Page 29 of Run
Nine
Giovanna
“Move!” Gage’s man yelled, adding a little shove to keep me going after I’d slowed down, the disbelief at what was happening weighing my steps.
But with that reminder, I kept walking, tried to keep my face and body as relaxed as Vincent’s was.
Inside, I was freaking out.
When I’d been home, Santo had kept his business far away from us in any way that counted. My mother had a strict no-gun rule for the house, and though I had no illusions my father obeyed it, I’d never seen one up close.
How funny was that? A mobster’s daughter who’d never seen a gun, let alone had one jabbed into her side?
I’d also never had someone’s arm locked so tight around my body, holding me in place with menace, every touch a promise of violence should I get out of line. Even in some of the more dicey situations I’d found myself in after I’d left, there’d never been anything like this.
When Vincent had called me pampered, I’d railed against him, and I still didn’t believe I was. But despite how pampered I may or may not have been, I wasn’t equipped to handle this.
I sent up a silent prayer to thank God Vincent was here. I wasn’t equipped, but he was, and I knew with everything I had that he wouldn’t let harm come to me. So I glanced at him as I was pushed into the SUV, kept my eyes on him during the entire ride, seeing his calm and trying to mirror it. Trusting him as I did no one else.
When some of the panic began to subside, I thought about the reasons for this. Gage was clearly involved, but I didn’t think he’d go to these lengths simply because I had rejected him. This had to be about the cop who’d given me a ride.
I replayed that conversation, tried to remember anything that might have happened in the bar. I’d been preoccupied with Vincent, so little else from last night had stuck, but I couldn’t think of anything that would warrant this reaction.
This was all a huge misunderstanding, and I hoped I could smooth it over. If I couldn’t, Vincent would, and his resolution would be far more bloody than mine.
One glance at his almost serene expression confirmed as much.
I didn’t want that.
I should have cared about the bloodshed on principle, but that wasn’t my concern, not at all. We were far away from home, and though Vincent clearly had strong backing from the “change in management” he’d mentioned, I didn’t know if that management had the power to clean up a mess as big as the one this was shaping up to be.
My stomach lurched as I cursed Gage’s stupidity, hoped that I, that Vincent, wouldn’t have to pay for it.
The car rolled to a stop, and I instantly recognized the bar’s faded brick facade. It took a feat of self-control not to roll my eyes at his idiocy.
“After you, Kelly,” the man who’d pulled the gun said as he pulled me out of the SUV and toward the open door.
I didn’t look at Vincent, but I could feel his anger like a tangible thing when he stood next to me. I wanted to reach for him, but didn’t, knowing such an action might give Gage more information than I wanted to provide.
He stood among the tables that were just as they’d been last night. But when he looked at me now, there wasn’t dominance-tinged lust in his eyes. Instead I saw pure menace. My stomach lurched again, and my heart thudded a little harder as I saw this situation careening out of control.
“Kelly, Kelly…” he said. “That is your name, right?”
“Don’t speak to her.”
Vincent’s voice cut through the air of the room with force, and I couldn’t help but admire his strength. He was standing with a gun pressed to the back of his head, and he seemed completely calm, calmer than the man who held it.
A fact that did not go unnoticed by Gage, as his narrowed eyes told me.
“You have a new friend, Kelly?” he asked, turning his eyes back to me.
He stepped closer, close enough that he was well within arm’s distance and glared down at me.
“Do you? Have a new friend?” he said.
I stayed silent, blinked, knowing that no words I might say would be helpful in this situation.
“I don’t like to repeat myself, but I’ll make an exception. Do not speak to her.”