TIED TO AN OUTLAW

those who have hunted armed men long enough and li

st He

------

ting for the Santoros to come back from wherever they'd disappeared to. Instinctively, I reached for my

to laughing at my

more out of habit than any hope of relief, then shifted my attention back to the voices. They were still murmuring, but quieter now, almost too fain

37

truggled to my feet, my whole body aching like I'd been beaten up in my sleep. I tiptoed toward the source of the vo

uriosity and rebelliousness

rothers-the first brother spoke with the smoothness of a European

had a presence that immediately gave him away, while Renzo had a reputation that spoke louder than words-ruthl

ir

nsigliere meant watching your father spit out names, secrets that didn't just disappear because

and put bounties on the family. It was a surprise he didn't recognize me-especially since I'd been told the rea

urmuring. "She saved you? Too convenient. How often do girls

stayed

lo pressed. "We shouldn't

poke. "She's unarmed

e or a journalist. Or even the fu

throat, hard as he continued like all Marcello had jus

. "You're being unusually merciful, and you know there c

s style." Renzo words were more like an afterthought. But h

t. Could be a tactic. Something to

to cut. I didn't know my existence could get two grown men

tled. "Once Calista checks the phone and clears her, we

ded. "But until then, we keep

ed as he moved toward

down. I landed with a loud thud, my chest heaving from the rush. Renzo appeared moments later, his gaze sharp as he took in my shallow brea

t, at

its thick layer of dust almost d

a straightforward command fr

on the opposite side of the room. This one, as it turned out, had a doo

mmered. He turned to face me, ex

ne to the enemy. You'll get it back when you're clea

The words felt foreign, confus

tying my past to that phone was pictures of myself and Vi. Since Renzo hadn't recognized me, chances were he'd not recognize her.

h good and

unable to make out anything past that. Wher

unken as yours should be buried under a p

chance to sleep? My overactive thoughts went wild-he wants you defenseless,

ded it was the sudden flash of light bothering me, raising a hand to shield my

but follow

eme

But that fear faltered the moment I reached the bottom of the cold

oal grey that muffled our footsteps, and the walls were smooth concrete, polished to a high shine. Floor-to-ceiling aquariums lined the far wall, their soft blue gl

lian leather, dark and buttery smooth. Abstract art hung above it, each piece a famous name-Warhol, Rothko, even a Picasso sketch. A glass coffee table sat in fro

stainless steel appliances that looked like they'd never been used. The countertops were marble-black with delicate gold veining-and a few crystal d

ain, no divider. Just cold steel frames and mattresses that looked too expensive for a place like this. It was functional, sure,

h a faint hint of cedarwood and leather. Not a hint

room. A hidden space within the hideout. I couldn't see inside, but t

to outlast the any kind of apocalypse, but to do it in comfort and taste. T

my life, I felt... small. Like a beggar at the doorstep of luxury. Even th

e, he grabbed my arm, pulling me back sharply. Suddenly, we were face to face. "Get comfortable-if you can. You're on notice: an suspicio

me. "I'll be right here, then." I yanked my hand free from his tightening grip. "Waiting for your thank you wh

his eyes still on me. I never heard him move. Maybe he didn't. But I was too e