Page 20 of Devil's Game

“Thank you for sending those boys around.” Francine reached forward and clasped Kellan’s hand in hers. “I’ve never liked giving money to those men, and times are even tougher now than they were before.”

My heart sank, the blood draining from my face as I reached for my pocket and pulled out the money. My hands shook as I slid the money in front of her, the guilt of taking her money settling on my shoulders again at the reminder.

She had her grandson to take care of, and I—

“Giana,” she barked, turning an incredulous glare on me.

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t you say another word.” She cut me off, her curled fingers grasping mine in her tight grip, a ferocity gleaming in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. “I gave you that money out of my free will, knowing it would at least get you out of town and give you some semblance of safety. I wish I could’ve done more for you, dear. I lived with that guilt every day until I heard you were safe with them.”

She nodded at Kellan, and he held me tighter.

“I can make more money, but you, dear, cannot have a new life. Your life matters, Giana, to more people than you know. To people you haven’t even met yet, and most importantly,to yourself.” There was such vehemence in her tone, such unquestioning reverence, that I couldn’t say anything.

Her words sank in as reality came crashing down on me. I’d been so deep in my own world, just trying to survive one day at a time, I hadn’t realized how truly close to death I’d come. Any day, he could’ve snapped, could’ve landed one blow too many, and I would’ve taken my last breath. I was strong for getting out, for seizing my life and demanding more from it—for choosing to live and not get sucked back into the vacuous hole I’d been trapped in for six years.

Sophia clasped my other hand, her sapphire eyes brimming with tears. I blinked away the fog, only for tears to roll down my cheeks. New understanding crossed her features, like she hadn’t realized it had been that bad. Hadn’t realized that I’d carried that low of a self-worth for so long and hid the true threat from even my own eyes. Of course, she hadn’t known. I’d never told her, never communicated it in those words.

I bit down on my lower lip to keep it from wobbling and turned back to Francine. Some of the intensity had faded from her expression, as though she read the acceptance and understanding as it blossomed in my mind.

I was worthy, worthy of love from myself, worthy of kindness and compassion. But most of all . . . I was worthy of revenge for all the Barones had done, not only to me but the people I loved.

“You give them hell, girl.” Francine shook my hand, as if she could see the fire burning brightly in my eyes as intensely as I could feel the flames flickering to life in my chest. “You make sure they regret ever thinking they could control you or make you feel like your life wasn’t worth living.”

I would.

Our group was quiet as we strolled back to the tattoo shop, a renewed warmth in my chest, one that urged me to fight, to be part of the fray.

“Shit, are those cops?” Sophia exclaimed, pointing toward the shop. I didn’t know how I hadn’t seen them before, but there they were, blue-and-red-flashing lights blinking, barely visible in the bright afternoon sun.

One of the officers rolled out a long line of vibrant yellow crime scene tape across the sidewalk as a few of the shop owners gathered to peer over it. Kellan and I exchanged a glance before we broke into a run, though I kept my pace slower so Sophia could keep up.

This could be a trap, after all.

My breaths were ragged by the time we got to the yellow tape and slipped under it, glass cracking under my wedges. It was littered all over the sidewalk.

“Hey, you can’t—” The officers’ protests were drowned out as I looked up at the shop, the flash of a camera turning my vision hazy for a moment while I blinked away the spots of light.

There, in the center of the shop, lay a body. Gunshot wounds protruded from the man’s chest, the wounds old, judging by the soaked T-shirt. There was a puddle of blood surrounding him, the crimson spreading on the hardwood floor as the last of his life’s blood drained from his fatal injuries. Cuts covered his body from the glass, but the blood wasn’t smeared. I could only imagine he’d been shot elsewhere and dumped here as a message, the blood having drained from his wounds from the jostling of his body as he was heaved through the window.

It wasn’t the fact that a dead person had obviously been thrown into Kellan’s shop, destroying the place that’d brought him peace—the way he kept his artist calm while drowning in the sea of the crime life he never wanted—that kept me frozen in place, despite Kellan’s warm palms on my face trying to pry my gaze away. No, it was because I knew that man.

He was from another life. His life had been spared once before, but now it seemed Tommaso had called in the life debt I’d barelybeen able to barter for. He couldn’t get to my guys, he couldn’t get to Sophia, so he’d gone for my compassion, my guilt. He’d seen it when I’d quivered against him as he held a hand to my mouth to stop my screams.

Ryan’s leg was still in a cast from where Tommaso’s men had bashed it to pieces with a tire iron weeks ago.

He thought this would break me. That I’d come running back to him in fear that he’d do this to someone I loved next. But he underestimated me. I saw this for what it was. A loss of control.

We were getting under his skin, and I wouldn’t tarnish Ryan’s memory by giving in to Tommaso this time.

Chapter Seven

Spade

Tap, tap, tap.

My fingers rapped on the dashboard in a steady staccato, the pulse of sound and the vibration of the thick plastic beneath my skin the only things keeping my mind focused.

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