Page 77 of Forgotten Comeback
Inferno shakes his head. “A man like Romeo Parisi assumes nothing.”
“You’re taking this far too calmly.” I eye my brother.
He lifts his shoulder. “Would you prefer hysterics?”
“Maybe?”
“Ace’s is wiped off the map. You’ll train in the arena until we can get another gym up and running. Your new coach will meetwith you this afternoon. I’ve written off Russell. If you killed him?—”
“I didn’t kill him,” I grit.
Inferno holds up his hand. “I was going to say, I don’t care whether you did or not, just don’t kill your new coach. Our club scene will continue operating business as usual. Poker parties remain on pause.”
“And the construction company?” I ask.
“The foreman will run things for the time being. We can’t collapse just because John chose dick over family.”
“Now you’re assuming.” I cross my arms.
His scarred fingers drum on his desk. “I’ll be happy for John to prove me wrong. In the meantime, we carry on.”
“Easy for you to say. I’m going to have a target on my back after kidnapping a capo’s wife,” I point out.
“Then I’d suggest watching your back.”
“Great advice,” I mutter.
Taylor
“Could I suggest a more modern style?” The shoe salesperson diplomatically suggests as I try on a pair of granny heels. The Diamond’s pretty strict about dress code, and I’m not getting paid enough to throw out my back, so orthopedic heels it is.
“Nope. I’ll take this pair,” I tell her, and she nods with resignation as she disappears to the back to find the box.
I’m having to start from scratch on my entire wardrobe, and it really pisses me off. One of many reasons why I’m pissed off…
My phone notifies, and I check the messages from Kat.
I would say she’s blowing up my inbox, but it’s way too soon to joke.
Hey, I know that was a lot…but talk to me!!!! Not over text tho. Let’s meet up for brunch like old times!!!!
Old times? I don’t see how we can go back to old times like nothing happened, not after her husband drugged and threatened me. Thank God Fabio never asked me about my connection to Gavin, because I seriously doubt I’d be alive right now if he did.
I like you, but for the next little bit, I’m going to treat you like I don’t.
I’ve been replaying those words over and over. Did Gavin act that way to hide his connection with me from the family to protect me, or am I giving a psychopath too much credit?
My fingers type a slew of angry sentences before I take a deep breath and delete them.
I have to work.
Bubbles appear, and I resist the urge to block her ass too. Instead, I pull up my calendar, and dammit, I missed my therapy appointment this morning.
Scrolling through my contacts, I call my therapist’s office and get that sorted before moving to the counter and paying for my shoes.
After a morning of shopping, I get in my car—a car that was magically delivered to Kat’s condo early this morning—and drive, my mind reeling. Gavin’s on my shit list, and I’m on themob’s shit list. Oh, but I can’t tell my therapist any of this, because I’ve been threatened into silence by said mob boss.
“Arrrrrrrrr!” I scream at the top of my lungs.
