Page 17 of Redemption
She slaps my shoulder and gasps. “Get out of here! You hooked up with someone? It’s about time!”
“Well… It’s a long story, both yes and no, I guess. Let’s talk about something else.”
“Oh, I’m not letting you off the hook. Was it good? Are you seeing him again?”
“Yes. No. I have no idea. Twenty-four. I need to work. See you later.”
“You’re evil,” she shouts after me.
I flip her off.
I’m a mess. My head spins from lack of sleep and myGod, I want to see him again. In my locker hangs the jacket he gave me last night and never took back. I sneak off to sniff it over and over throughout the day. I’m not in love, it’s just lust, but my body can’t tell the difference. My whole being tingles.
Five
Christian
“She’s still alive?” Luciano Salvatore paces back and forth in his office, wearing down the expensive carpet. He waves at his bodyguard. “Get out.”
I stand as if on guard, my hands clasped behind my back, and watch the man in silence as he exits the office and carefully shuts the heavy wooden door.
“Miss Jackson hasn’t revealed much. She hesitates to talk about it. I need more time to assess this.”
“Time? Why time? Just get rid of her. It’s what you do. You don’t interrogate, or negotiate, or whatever the fuck you think you’re doing. You’re not hired to think. Just off the girl.”
“Uncle, with all due respect, if she has nothing on you, then there’s no fucking reason to unleash me on a civilian.”
He scoffs. “Don’t pull the uncle card on me. Your mama can’t always come to your rescue. And since when did you develop a conscience? Fuck’s sake. Do I need to send someone else?”
I twitch. “Salvatore. I have no issue doing her in if she’s a threat to the organization, but give me the benefit of the doubt here, let me observe her for a couple of more days.”
He narrows his eyes and stops his pacing. “You wanna get in this girl’s pants.”
When I don’t answer immediately, he barks out a laugh. “That’s rich. You’re sick. She’s like twelve. Sheiseasy on the eye, though, I admit that.”
“She’s not twelve,” I grit out.
Salvatore waves dismissively. “Whatever. Don’t lose focus, Christiano,” he says, using my birth name, the name he knows I loathe. “Sure, fuck her, and then do what you’re told. You’ve got three days. Then I’ll send someone else. Someone with a little less—” he gives me a once over, his gaze filled with distaste, “—conscience. Roarke, probably. He knows how to get things done.”
I close my eyes and fight down the growl that wants to escape my throat. Roarke Brennan. Tall, dark, pretty as fuck and a fucking psychopath. He likes to inflict pain. He’s a ruthless monster. I know what people think of me, but I’m efficient, and I only hurt the ones who deserve it.
“She’ll be gone in three days.”
“Shame, such a pretty girl,” he says and regards me, gauging my reaction.
I let my expression remain neutral. “That all?”
He waves me off and turns towards his desk. “You’re dismissed, Christiano.”
As I hop in my car, my thoughts stray to little Kerry. I don’t even know if she wants to see me again after last night. Fuck, I had to restrain myself when she pushed me away. The urge to rip her clothes off and take her nearly had me staggering as I left her house. She smelled of arousal all over. Whatever her brain told her, her body was more than ready. I would bet a fortune she was wet as fuck. I think she does want to see me. Besides, she still has my jacket.
She’s spent the morning at the center, then she hopped on her pink Vespa, tucked her hair inside her collar, pushed the helmet over her head, and rushed to the university. Late afternoon, I think she’s going home, but she goes back to the center and doesn’t leave until seven.
I shake my head. My hours are usually worse, but that’s still some dedication. During the day, I’ve unraveled a little bit more of her mystery. She’s got money. An alimony. Enough for a few good years of not doing much of anything. It explains the cute townhouse on the hill, with the little garden and a view of the bay. It doesn’t explain her scurrying between duties.
As she puts her key in the lock, I have my plan set. A few minutes later I knock on her door. No answer. I know she’s in there. What the fuck? I ring the doorbell three times before I finally hear steps and a rattle of a chain.
She opens the door a sliver, the security chain in place. Her hair is soaking wet, flat against her head, and she wears nothing but a large, white towel wrapped around her body. My cock immediately jumps to life and my mouth literally waters. I hold up the plastic bag.