Page 98 of Wrathful King
I shook my head in dismissal. Maybe she left in a hurry…
Maybe Maria had guests, I speculated. After all, Papà’s housekeeper surely had a life and friends outside of her job. Since she always took care of him, it’d make sense she brought her friends here every now and again.
I headed to another door, Amon right behind me. We emerged from the kitchen and started toward the grand staircase.
“I never would’ve predicted we’d find ourselves back in Venice. Or that you’d be such a wonderful and amazing husband,” I teased as we made our way up the stairs. “Life works in mysterious ways, doesn’t it?”
He smacked my butt lightly. “It sure does.”
“And wherever I go, I don’t have to worry about snakes, because you’ll keep them away.” His soft chuckle traveled through the empty house. “Maybe we should settle here.”
But the moment the words left, my steps faltered. We were in front of my mamma’s room.
“Should we leave that one as is?” Amon asked gently.
I shook my head. “No, let’s air it out.”
The moment I pushed the door open, the chill coerced the goosebumps to rise across my flesh, making every hair on my body stand on end.
Amon’s hand came around my waist and I leaned into him, his heat and strength at my back a comfort that chased the ghosts away. We passed the outline of the bed and reached the window.
Another curtain opened. Light poured in as if promising a new beginning. I drifted through the room, my fingers tracing the furniture my mamma once used. Her hairbrush. Her nightgown. I froze as I turned to face the bed and nightstand.
“Those are not her sheets,” I murmured, shaking my head.
“What?”
I faced Amon, meeting his questioning gaze. “Those are not the same sheets and blankets that were there when I visited last. Papà insists on washing and keeping the same sheets on this bed, just like he insists we keep guns hidden around the house.” Amon’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and I waved my hand in dismissal. “It’s beside the point. What matters is nobody ever stays in this room. He forbids it.”
His shoulders tensed and alert marred his expression. He shoved me behind him and pulled out a gun from the back of his jeans.
“Someone’s here,” he said, echoing my earlier thoughts. “Stay behind me.” I nodded just as a shuffling sound came from downstairs. He froze, then glanced back at me. “Did we cover every inch?”
“Yes,” I whispered, but then a thought occurred to me. “Except one place.”
“Guide me to it,” he ordered, the gun firmly in his grip. I went to sidestep him but he blocked my way. “With your words, cinnamon girl. You stay behind me.”
I let out a frustrated breath. “You had two bullets in you, Amon,” I hissed. “You won’t survive a third.”
“I won’t survive if my wife gets shot,” he retorted wryly. “Stay behind me and tell me where to go.”
“I won’t survive if you get killed,” I snapped back, keeping my voice low while following him. “Ever think of that? I got a taste of it, and it almost destroyed me.”
His movements paused, then he turned my way and kissed me. “I won’t die. I promise.”
“You better keep that promise,” I murmured against his lips, breaking away only to keep moving. We cut a path as one through the hallway, down the stairs, and into the living room. It was massive, with a few sofas and a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall above the fireplace, frozen on the image of some serene beach.
Amon pressed his finger against his mouth, the universal sign for quiet. I nodded, then pointed to the spot I remembered from all those years ago. The one that Papà made us hide in.
My fingers trailed over the redbrick fireplace, looking for the spot that would open it.
I finally felt the little button. I flicked a glance over my shoulder and Amon caught it.
“Open it and then take cover,” he mouthed. I nodded, knowing full well arguing with him would get me nowhere. I pushed it and the wall with the fireplace shifted.
One heartbeat. Two. On the third, all hell broke loose.
Bang.Amon pulled the trigger, his gun aimed at a person I couldn’t see, then sprang into action. He rushed into the hiding spot. I took cover just in time as a knife flew through the air. I narrowly dodged it, my breathing heavy.
