Page 123 of Steal My Heart
“Are we still talking about me?” I whisper.
“Play.”
I don’t argue, sitting my wet behind down on the couch and moving blocks into formation on the little screen.
Twenty minutes of focus, and the timerbuzzes. I toss the device and go take a quick shower. Giving my hair a quick wash, Mak’s words replay in my mind. Maybe Alessandra’s right: there is method to his madness. Because instead of thinking about what just happened to me, I’m now wondering what happened to him. Whatever it was, it sounds really freaking bad.
Still hate him just a teensy weensy bit though.
Stepping out of the shower, I quickly dry off and throw on some clothes, joining Maks in the kitchen.
He silently hands me a mug, and I blow on the steam before taking a sip of the hot chocolate. “It would only be fair that, since you saved my life, I save yours when Angelo gets here. I prefer itty bitty marshmallows in my hot chocolate, and next time, I want homemade,” I poke him.
He looks at me with cold eyes. “I refuse to be indebted to a grifter.”
“Both ‘pickpocket’ and ‘grifter’ are old news,” I inform him. “Was your IT guy able to save the phone?”
“Yes.”
“Yes!” I grin from ear to ear. “Go ahead and say it. I’m as good as I think I am.”
“He’s still working to get inside the phone,” Maks warns me.
“You’re as good as you think you are, Remi,” I prompt him.
He crosses his arms.
“Why was I unpolitely kidnapped and then tossed in the river?” I try.
He snorts. “English isn’t my first language, but I’m fairly certain ‘unpolitely’ isn’t a word.”
“Why?” I press him.
“They thought you were Al,” he confirms.
“I get that much, butwhydid they want her?” I ask.
“That’s the question.”
Angelo bursts through the door, his eyes landing on me. “You’re alright?”
I set my mug down, crossing the room and wrapping my arms around his neck. “I’m okay.”
He releases a shaky breath, kissing the top of my head.
“Ahhh!” I squeal when he jerks me to the side, pulling a gun out and pointing it at Maks’ head. “Angelo, wait. Maks saved my life?—”
“Your life shouldn’t have been in jeopardy to begin with.”
“They took me, thinking I was your sister,” I tell him, looking between him and an unblinking Maks.
“What?” Angelo lowers his gun.
“I’ve already called ahead; Al and Nola are in the panic room until given the green light,” Maks says.
Now’s not the time to ask, but I really hope there’s not a television in the panic room.
Angelo
