Page 86 of Salvatore

“You didn’t just make waves, Salvatore. You killed Gabriel’s men in his own apartment and created an unholy tsunami.”

“You would’ve preferred if I sat back and twiddled my thumbs while you were raped?” he sneers. “Because believe me, my brothers would have been willing to stick to the plan and listen to your abuse.”

My chest tightens. My throat, too.

I don’t know what to do with this information. I don’t even know how to digest it.

“Like I said,” he grates, “I’ll take care of Lorenzo. Just relax. You’ll be fine.”

“My interpretation of fine or yours? Because I’ve got a feeling there’s a large disparity in that spectrum.”

He hangs his head, the dark wisps of his hair shrouding his eyes.

Okay, sofinemeans fucked. I’m totally cooked. And of course the dire outlook feels worse after experiencing the briefest taste of freedom.

Who the hell did I piss off in another life to deserve this?

I slide away from him, sidling up to Remy’s open door. “I need fresh air.” I climb out and subtly scope the concrete jungle for an escape.

I can lay low for a while. I’ve done it before. Homelessness isn’t new to me. I could go back to foraging for food like a rabid raccoon. At least I look the part. And it’s not like the displacement should last long. If I can get to a club tomorrow night I’ll be able to find a past conquest willing to take me home and let me crash at his place.

But you’ve got no fucking shoes, Ivy. Or underwear.

I curse under my breath and shove my hands into my knotted hair.

My dress is torn. My face is messed up. I can’t even remember when I showered last.

I pace, my footsteps stilted and shaky.

Will Salvatore even let me flee? Or is that what he’s hoping I’ll do to distance his family from the mess my existence has created?

He climbs out of the car, slowly strolling around the hood and walking toward me as he slides his hands into his pockets. “You thinking about running from me?”

I fight to keep my feet rooted in place and not stare directly at the glowing exit sign halfway across the parking lot. “It’s definitely moving up my very small list of options.”

“You don’t trust me to protect you?” He continues approaching, the space between us a few feet and closing. “After everything I’ve done?”

“In my defense, there’s been some conflicting messages.” I backtrack, hoping there’s another exit behind me. “You did threaten to throw me in the trunk of your car not too long ago.”

“I’ve also murdered men for touching you.” The ease with which he stalks toward me seems effortless. Instinctive. “Their blood still soaks my clothes.”

“And I thank you for that but?—”

“Kills two and three weren’t even coming after you, Ivy.” Smooth steps. Calm confessions. “They were still panicking in their apartment. I had to knock on the door to give them the punishment they deserved.”

I freeze. My jaw drops.

I stop before him. Blindsided.

He promised his brothers he wouldn’t make waves. Yet he went on a recreational killing spree for what? My honor?

His expression is unreadable—confident and passive in the same measure. “You didn’t think I’d let them get away with their crimes, did you?”

“You deliberately?—”

“Yes, I deliberately.” He stands before me, a man without remorse. “From now on, nobody touches you and gets away with it. Although, Alonso was an oversight. I didn’t realize he was inside the apartment. And given the rules laid out for the rescue attempt I couldn’t exactly execute him in front of my brothers. So his retribution has been postponed.”

“No.” Fear claws at the inside of my skull. “No more death. All it does is create a bigger target on my back.”

---