Page 64 of Dirty Deeds

“I’m not, at least not yet.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Look, you’re going to get mad, but I need you not to lose your shit until I’ve said all I’ve got to say.”

I comb my fingers roughly through my hair as he grunts. The last thing I need is a reenactment of him blowing up at me.

“I’m listening,” he growls.

“I was leaving Danica’s house a little while ago when I spotted Matthews parked across the street from her house. He definitely saw me, but there’s no way he could’ve known I was there. My car was parked blocks away.”

“That don’t mean shit, Enzo. All he had to do was swing by your place and see your car missing.”

“Even so, that doesn’t mean I was at Danica’s. I could’ve been anywhere.”

“But he figured you’d be exactly where you were because that’s exactly where he would be if he were in your shoes.”

I get what he’s saying, but my gut is telling me something completely different. I know I wasn’t followed. Danica’s paranoia must’ve rubbed off on me because I kept checking my mirrors the whole ride over to her house. And I really find it hard to believe Brent scoured the neighborhood in search of my truck.

“Where is she now?”

I divert my gaze down the hallway. The bathroom door is closed, but I hear the shower running. Sighing, I sink down onto the couch.

“I made her pack some things and took her to Kate’s. I thought if I brought her back to my house, I’d make matters worse if the cops showed.” I pause, drawing out a deep breath. “I don’t know what to do, Dad. I’m fucking drowning here.”

He doesn’t respond right away and that only twists my insides more. This is why men like me don’t break the law. I’m not equipped for this shit.

“It’s four o’clock in the morning, there’s nothing you can do right now. Going to Kate’s was a smart move. During business hours, I want you to call your lawyer. Tell her what happened and see what she advises. Does she know you’ve been having contact with Danica?”

I recall the phone conversation we had after Brent’s conference.

“I think she may surmise it.”

“Right, well, lay it all out for her that way she can get ahead of it. I’ll call a meeting with the club in the morning, and we’ll figure out security for Danica. For now, she stays at Kate’s. You can spend the night until I get there, but then you leave. You go to work, and you do whatever it is you do when you’re not working that doesn’t include sneaking away with your woman. That ends until we know what Matthews is fucking up to.”

I bite the inside of my cheek. There’s not one part of me that’s okay with putting distance between me and Danica. Realistically I know she’ll be safe here, that none of my father’s brothers will let Brent get anywhere near her. But I got a problem putting my woman’s safety in the hands of another man. It’s me who should be taking care of her. Me protecting her.

“Vincenzo.” I cringe at the use of my legal name. “Have I made myself fucking clear?”

“Yeah,” I hiss.

“It’s supposed to get easier,” he mumbles into the line.

“What’s that?”

“They say it’s easier being a parent when your kids become adults. That they don’t need you as much so you can enjoy life a little bit more. Relish in your grandchildren and all that. These are supposed to be my golden years, but there ain’t a goddamn thing golden about them.”

Yeah, I don’t think that’s true.

There’s never a point in your life when you don’t need your parents.

If you’re a normal family, you call on them to help you with the everyday things. Like the shed you want to build or the recipe you want to recreate. Maybe they babysit your kids so you and your partner can have a break.

If you’re a Scotto, you call on them to keep your ass out of jail.

CHAPTERNINETEEN

DANICA MATTHEWS

---