Page 92 of Liberated By Sin
Pushing out of his arms, I grabbed my suitcase as the doors finally split open.
Santino pounded his fist on the railing. “Damn it, Amara.”
“Is there a problem?”
Detective Braga had a knack for constantly popping up at the worst time. His arm shot out, preventing the doors from closing as he eyed us suspiciously.
“Everything is fine.” Santino’s voice was razor sharp. He intended to retrieve my suitcase and exit the elevator, but I snatched it back.
“I’ll see you tomorrow night, Santino,” I said with finality, turning around and meeting the betrayal in his eyes. Call it pride or fear, but I needed time to think, even if that meant hurting him a little tonight—even if it hurt me just as much.
“Amara, please.” His frustration was palpable. And he moved in closer, still refusing to release the handle.
“I believe she’s calling it a night, Mr. Leone.”
Santino steeled his shoulders, intent on charging the detective, but I stood between them and cradled his cheeks.
“Santi, give me tonight to think it over. That’s all I’m asking. I promise.” His eyes hardened as they bounced between me and Raymond. “Just tonight.”
Santino sighed and curled his fingers around my shirt, dragging me into his arms. “You call me if anything. Do you hear me?”
Conscious of the detective still watching, I pressed my lips to his and smiled. “You too. It’s not just about me.”
With one last kiss to the forehead, he stepped to the middle of the elevator and pinned Braga with a cold glare as the doors slid closed.
“Amara, is everything all right? I spent all of last night and into the early morning at the scene about a block from Illusion. Two more women from your club have been murdered.”
“I heard,” I said, continuing toward my unit. “Look, it’s unfortunate what happened, but I just got into town and am exhausted. And—”
“Where did you and Mr. Leone fly off to, if I may ask?”
“Frankly, with respect, I don’t think that’s any of your business.” I set my handle down and fumbled through my bag for my key.
“And I respectfully disagree.”
I froze, waiting for the other half of that sentence to drop.
“I informed Mr. Leone that I needed him to remain close for further questioning.”
“We answered all your questions. There’s nothing more to discuss.”
“Three more of his employees died, so again, I disagree.”
I twisted the knob and cracked the door open, officially reaching the limit of my patience.
“And curiously, one of my colleagues from Philadelphia informed me of a murder very similar to the one that occurred here a few weeks back. Strange.”
Again, he’d caught me off guard, and my heart stuttered to a stop, but I couldn’t feed his suspicion. Whatever he had to say shouldn’t affect me, and I needed to get my shit together and show him as much. Serial killers were consistent, leaving distinctive signatures behind. I’d always managed to cover my tracks so that the only thing my victims had in commonwere their cocks and their vile addictions to sexual violence. Details that weren’t always uncovered during the investigation into their deaths, especially with Miami’s high murder rate and overworked police force. But I’d slipped, letting my emotions overtake logic, and carved the exact phrase on each of their bodies.
Death is mercy.
My pulse quickened when I turned to face his scrutiny. And his graying eyebrows twitched, reading my every reaction. However, it would be a reach for him to accuse me of murder across state lines without sufficient evidence or cause. I’m just his neighbor—the girl who’d saved his son.
“Listen, like I said, I’m exhausted. And as tragic as that is, it has nothing to do with me. Seems like confidential police business.”
The air between us shifted suddenly, paranoia and suspicion taking the reins. He was no longer just a nosy neighbor; Detective Braga was dangerous. Somehow, he knew and suspected things he shouldn’t. We stared each other down, waiting for the other to say something or make a move.
“Papai!” Thiago’s small voice echoed in the corridor as he bolted through the door toward his father, an older woman chasing behind him. “Papai, papai!”