Page 69 of Liberated By Sin
“Is she someone’s mark?” Silas’s tone had lost all its humor. Perhaps memories of his past as a target had resurfaced.
“I don’t know. There’s only so much she’s confided, but whoever she’s running from is still out there.”
“Santino, you know I’ll help any way I can, but if I run her name through our system, alias or not, there’s a chance someone will spot it.”
I punched the steering wheel when I realized he had a point. The organization had eyes and ears everywhere; it was a wonder she hadn’t been found by now. But Amara had me now, and I had no plans of going anywhere.
“Fair enough. Do a local search. Separate the names Amara and Carvalho.”
Silence fell between us, and I knew him—knew that was his way of mulling things over and looking at the larger picture. It was why he’d stood steadfast against my suggestions about Helena years ago. And I’d never been more relieved he hadn’t listened. The woman was as unhinged as they came, but those two were born to be together.
“If this is indeed a blood oath situation, take care of yourself. Nothing else needs to be asked or said because I know you wouldn’t be calling if she wasn’t important.”
“I appreciate you. Now finish that castle so Helena can return your ball sack.”
“Fuck you,” he responded with a booming laugh.
When the call ended, my mind drifted to Amara and what we shared mere hours ago. I’d always given Silas shit for the unconditional devotion he held for his wife from the moment she stabbed him. But I understood it now. There was no exact science behind a heart choosing its other half, even if both were in pieces or black as ash.
29
Tennessee Whiskey – Austin Giorgio
Myfeet couldn’t carry me fast enough through Illusion’s parking lot and side entrance. A last-minute business transaction had kept me out of the city and away from my newest addiction. Forty-eight hours was long enough. We’d spoken over the phone, but listening to Amara’s voice without being able to touch her was a unique form of torture. I’d intended to stop by her flat, but she informed me she’d arrived at work earlier than scheduled to practice a new routine.
I clenched my jaw at the thought of her on that stage and in a room full of bastards lusting for what was mine. She’d never accept my help financially, and asking her not to perform or cutting the heads off every patron might not go over well.
“Preziosa, are you in there?” I asked after knocking on her door several times, but I received silence in return.
Music from the main floor lounge filtered through the corridors, drawing my attention. The venue wouldn’t be open to the public for another three hours, and if Amara wasn’t in her dressingquarters, then I had to assume she’d already taken to the stage. Over the last several weeks, I had committed every piece of her music to memory. But the melody filling the walls of Illusion was new.
Following the alluring notes like a siren’s call, I was utterly mesmerized by her movements, as if it were the first time. We locked eyes from across the room, and I noticed her falter for a moment once she realized I was watching, but she seamlessly recovered, kicking her legs up and twisting around the pole.
I stepped onto the stage and dropped to my knees as she arched backward from the top, her hair falling like a curtain of curls before me.
“Sei fottutamente squisita,” I said, my hands in her hair, mouth coasting over hers.
So fucking exquisite.
She grinned and snaked out her tongue, licking my lips. “Like what you see?”
The groan that rattled past my teeth was all she needed to hear before I stood and peeled her off that damn pole, carried her to the bar, and laid her across the counter.
“Don’t you dare move.”
I silenced the protest on her lips with a rough kiss, leaving her breathless as I took off to ensure every entry point in the club was locked.
“What are you doing?” she asked with a coy smile as I rounded the bar and slipped in behind it.
“I think you meant to say that you missed me the same way I missed you.”
Amara took my hand and threaded her fingers through mine. “No one has ever missed me before.”
“Good,” I said, pressing my lips to her knuckles and trailing down until I reached the black band on her wrist. “You know you don’t need to hide from me.” I slid it off and slowly kissed the discolored skin.
She touched my cheek, offering me a smile. “I’m getting there. And I did miss you. But you also owe me a date.”
I laughed as I hooked my thumb over the thin red strap on hershoulder and looked to her for consent.