Page 67 of Forbidden Property
“Your girl?”
I hate how fucking smug he sounds. Yes. My girl. Yes. The woman I love. Yes. Fuck. I feel everything impossible for Geralynn and I want to fucking admit it. I want to do a lot more than that. Nobody else wants to hold onto the old ways – why should I make myself miserable for the past?
“Yes. My girl.”
“Finally.”
“Finally what?”
“You love that woman. It’s taken you a long fucking time to admit that to yourself.”
“Are you done?”
“Sure,” Gino says with a grin. “I’m done. Let me pull up the footage and you get over yourself and call Luigi. He won’t judge.”
“All he does is judge.”
“We need his help, Renzo.”
I know he’s right. I hate to admit it to myself but… he’s right.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Geralynn
Nicki whispers, “Okay. So everything didn’t go according to plan.”
This chick is out of her fucking mind with the understatement of the century. The only bright side about what happened tonight is Nicki having the intelligence to empty the clip in the right arm of one of the motherfuckers who kidnapped us. They got her gun in the end, but she didn’t leave any bullets behind in the chamber for them to use, so they ditched the weapon after dragging us in the car.
Thank God Roman didn’t wake up. Thank God he didn’t scream. But that doesn’t change much about my situation – which is tied up in the back of this Chrysler 300 face to face with Nicki Taviani. I wish I could smack her or choke her out or settle this physically, but all we can do is talk. And I don’t want to talk.
The one night I fight my better judgment and let her in – we get kidnapped.
“This isn’t my fault!” she hisses. “I have no idea who these people are. But did you catch the plates?”
“No, Nicki. I didn’t catch the plates while a man twice my sizesnatched me off my fucking porch.”
“Okay. You’re still mad.”
“Girl! I’m more mad than before,” I hiss. I don’t want Nicki to think she’s making progress with me. For all I know, this was the A-team and the B-team could have my son in the back of a Toyota Camry on his way to Mexico. Or Canada. Or anywhere aside from my arms.
Panicking won’t help, but it’s hard not to be pissed the fuck off at Nicki yet again getting me into a crazy ass mess.
“I promise, I’ll get us out of this,” she says. “If they had Pennsylvania plates, they’re with the Pittsburgh mob.”
I don’t want to discuss theories. I want to study for the LSAT and feed my son. What if he wakes up? What if something else horrible happens and my son in his little newly formed mind thinks that I abandoned him intentionally? I feel sick to my stomach that this was the one night Renzo hasn’t been home in ages. And that I’m the one who pushed him away with repeated coldness to him after he’d gone out of his way to be there for our son and look after both of us.
The horrible sinking feeling on my chest only feels relieved when I extend that hatred to the person who dragged all of us into this mess and most likely caused this kidnapping somehow too through reckless, selfish ass behavior.
“Nicki. When I get out of here, our friendship is over. I swear, I have had about enough of this.”
“You can’t seriously be blaming me right now!” Nicki hisses.
“Who else should I blame?”
“I’m sorry,” Nicki pleads with me. “ For all we know, they’re just doing this to scare us and it’s my brother.”
Renzo wouldn’t do this. The thought strikes me as instinctively accurate and entirely different from what I would have expected from Renzo before. It’s not like he’s a completely different person, just a matured version of himself. He’s been so dedicated to being Roman’s father that he hasn’t been smirking, snarky or rude about anything in months.
