Page 48 of Bastard Prince
Drawing my fist back, I landed a punch right in his mouth, the metal on my knuckles colliding with his upper lip. I could feel the quick gush of fluid as blood painted my knuckles.
“You think that’s fuckin’ funny?” I grunted, my teeth bared in a snarl. “You think this is a real fuckin’ joke?”
As he lifted his head, eyes wide with shock, I planted another, this time right in his nose, feeling the satisfying crunch as the bone gave way.
There was a heaving sound, and I turned to see Willow was up out of her chair, leaning against the back wall, retching into a bucket.
Shit.
The previously quiet shed was now ringing with gasps, groans, and gagging, and I was still no closer to getting any goddamn answers than I was this morning.
I stepped up to the skinny guy, his whole body vibrating like he was being electrocuted, and I figured he was the most likely to break. I was prepared to start swinging, my knuckles buzzing for more action, when the sound of the door opening made me stop. Turning around, I squinted into the shadows, seeing two figures, one larger than the other, and my chest immediately relaxed.
She was here.
Dropping my fist, I moved quickly across the space, reaching for Francesca before the door had even closed.
I cupped her face and kissed her, breathing in her sweet scent and feeling it reach every dark corner of my soul. When I was finally able to break away, I stepped back and looked at her, wincing when I noticed I had smeared blood on her cheek. Grasping the hem of my shirt, I pulled it up and wiped up the mess, noticing that Francesca hadn’t even batted an eye.
Fuck, I loved this woman.
“Enzo,” she said, her voice full of gentle laughter. “What the hell is going on here?”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Francesca
“Dollface!”
“George,” I said, smiling, making my way out of the sliding hospital doors and down to where he had parked his cab. “Thanks for coming on short notice.”
“For you? Always.” He opened the back door, one arm held out like a Regency footman. “Although, I must say, I was a little worried when you said the hospital. You alright, girlie?”
“I am,” I replied, placing my hand on his arm for a moment. “A friend of mine was hurt today, but he’s going to be going home soon. Looked worse than it was, thank goodness.”
“That’s good to hear.” Starting the car, George smiled at me in the rear-view mirror. “Now, where to?”
“The bus station, please,” I answered. “The one by the airport.”
“You leaving me so soon?” he asked, placing one hand on his chest dramatically. “You wound me, doll. You wound me.”
I chuckled.
“No such luck, George. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me a bit longer.”
“Las Vegas has never been so blessed,” he said, pulling out into the flow of traffic. We chatted back and forth on the drive, George weaving us in and out of back streets, avoiding the majority of the Las Vegas traffic.
As we pulled into the terminal, I was on high alert. There was something not right about Rosa’s call, some piece I was missing. I just needed to get to her, to pull her close and make her feel safe, then I could start the task of figuring out what part she played in all this.
Rosa was hard to miss, her tall and slender frame standing out in the crowded terminal. She was taller than the average woman, probably close to five feet nine inches these days, maybe even taller, and built like a model. Her light brown hair was tied back in a messy ponytail, and her eyes were tired. As George pulled the cab up, I could see Rosa scanning the parking lot, her desperate gaze searching for me as she chewed on her lip. As I exited the back of the car, Rosa caught sight of me, and I watched as her face crumpled.
“Hey,” I soothed, catching her as she practically threw herself at me, arms clinging to my torso like an octopus. “Rosa. Hey, what’s the matter?”
Taking a deep breath, Rosa squeezed me tight, then stepped back.
“Nothing.” She smiled, her red rimmed eyes looking sad. “I just missed you, Frankie. So much.”
“I missed you too, Rosa,” I said, taking her hand. I looked her over, seeing her tired smile and wrinkled clothes. She looked so much older than her seventeen years, and that broke my heart. “How about we head out to the house, and you can settle in. I bet you’d like a nice hot bath, hey?”
