Page 36 of Forbidden Surrogate

“Delphine,” I growl at her. It’s been about two hours since the bomb and the longer I spend away from her, the higher Delphine’s chances of ending up in the damn harbor.I need her now.

“They’re holding her at the Marriott downtown. That bartender Rachel from Belladonna’s works the closing shift Friday nights and she recognized Delphine, texted me immediately.”

In a small city like this, you can’t keep secrets from Italians. We’re all related, all connected and tangled up in a fucked up web of frustrating social connections that once in a while pay off like this.

“How the hell am I going to get her and then go to Pittsburgh?”

“Using your fucking brain,” Angela says.

“Oh, you care about her all of a sudden?”

“She’s my best friend, Luigi.”

“You didn’t know her a week ago.”

“The heart wants what it wants.”

“You are insufferable.”

“Fuck Pittsburgh and every Italian in that city,” Angela says, her anger barely describing the pain beneath it.

Angela’s husband was a Gravina. He was too old for her and far too brutal and controlling for a woman like Angela. I supported the union because of the strength it would add to the truce, but nobody could have predicted the violence this man would have inflicted upon my sister.

There is a part of me that feels like I owe it to her not to hold back my brutality now that the truce between our families lies in shambles. Carmine’s death has had intense ripple effects already. Who knows how far this could go… how much bloodshed there could be before it stops.

Still, it’s better to be the killer than the dead.

“Fine. Tell Peter and Mikey to get a head start. Go with them. I’ll head to the Marriott and get Delphine back.”

“Alone?”

“Who has her?” I ask Angela, slowing down as we approach Peter and Mikey, both hunched over and occupied by their own private conversation.

“The kid only looked about nineteen, but Rachel suspects he was armed.”

“Is Rachel still there?”

“Yes.”

“Perfect. I could use her help.”

“Don’t get her killed,” Angela warns me.

I grunt. “I’ll do my best.”

Chapter Twenty

Delphine

Idon’t fight this time when Luigi takes my hand and drags me away from the only hotel room I’ve ever been in that smells like cigar smoke thanks to my captors. They’re young enough that I know I could beat their asses – if they weren’t armed.

Luigi takes perfect control over the situation and I’m too busy trying to stay alive and away from the weapon muzzles to pay attention to anything except his hand coming towards me when it’s all over.

My head hurts and I’m barely conscious, barely able to hear any of my captors. I knew when they took me through the back entrance of the Marriott that I was both in grave danger and in the hands of wealthy, powerful men. The guns made it impossible to fight back, so my only task until Luigi arrived was to stay calm.

I don’t hear much of the fight between Luigi and the guards. Just an argument. Clicking. Then the door bursts open without any gunshots fired. I didn’t know kidnapping could be so anticlimactic.

The biggest part of the whole event is looking into Luigi’s eyes when he opens the door and knowing with absolute certainty: I’m safe.

---