Page 82 of Rogue
Two weeks after the party and Franco continues to confide in me. He’s mentioned Geneva and Paris several more times—mostly because of Veronica’s prompting. Yet the telltale signs are there; she’s getting bored. And it’s becoming increasingly hard to nudge her toward making Franco happy. Lord knows I don’t want to take on that role myself.
“Can’t get a willy,” Veronica complained the last time I spoke with her.
“Yet he pays you silly,” I replied, jokingly.
Good thing our boss brought Sabrina in to train me in dealing with problems such as this.Yeah, right.
“Do you know that man?” Madelyn nudges me and points to a tall, thin figure standing over in the shadows of the lone cemetery oak tree.
Francis.
Shit. He’s tracked me here?
Damn. Damn. Damn.
Cautiously, I look around, fully expecting to see Hayden standing nearby, wagging a threatening finger at me and reminding me what happens when you disobey his orders. No mercy. Not even if my life’s turned from bullshit to holy freakin’ crapola.
I narrow eyes at Madelyn, hoping she’ll understand my warning to keep quiet.
She gives me a confused look. So naive, so innocent.
“Go,” I softly plead.
She pulls me in close, kisses me on the cheek, then walks over to the priest and leads him away. Even though I asked her to do it, her actions rip me apart. Don’t go. Don’t you leave too. I fight my panic, and, plastering a furious look on my face, stalk across the field toward Francis. “What the fuck? Was my warning to you about following me not clear enough?”
He’s swaying back and forth on his feet. Jumpy. On edge. “Up close, you can see the differences.”
I don’t reply. Don’t need to. My sister is almost the younger version of me. Except sweeter. Gentler. More forgiving in nature. Instead I change the topic. “What is new at the DiCapitano mansion? Did you learn anything interesting?” I’m curious if Francis knows about those trips. Or if he is aware that Hayden’s main target is arriving in town this week, the beginning of the month, right? Yeah, I’ve been keeping secrets. Hard to trust him after our rather intense exchange that night at Franco’s.
He shakes his head and I breathe a mental sigh of relief.
“Two days. That’s all I need. For you to cover in my absence. For you to be the eyes and ears of this assignment. You think you can handle that?”
“Okay, so I screwed up that day with the coke. Shoot me. This isn’t just your assignment, Kylie. Why don’t you believe me when I tell you we’re partners?” He stops and gives me such a hurt look that I almost feel bad about what happened between us.
“Here, I’ll prove it to you.” He pulls out his cell phone and presses a button. After a brief pause, he says, “She’s here with me.”
Holy shit. He’s called Hayden.
“We’re reporting in together.” My eyebrows raise as I catch him wincing. “No. Nothing yet.” Another pause. “Understood. I’ll tell her once she is done in the bathroom.” He disconnects and returns his phone to his pocket.
“There. Happy, partner?”
“What did he say?”
“Next time you don’t call in on time, you’ll end up like them.” He gestures to the graves, and I suck in a breath.
“Who died?”
No one, I want to reply. But can’t bring the words to my lips. Hell, Hayden is already privy to Mama’s condition . . . and he can’t hurt her or use her against me. Tears threaten to spill. I’m careful to blink them away before I look back up at him. “My mother.”
“That sucks.”
“Why are you here?”
“Franco is talking about hosting another party.”
“Terrific. I’ll be there. The sooner we’re done with the scumbag, the better.”
