Page 52 of His Lair
He thinks I’m sweet and innocent and that I’d never be capable of taking someone’s life.
E:
You are sweet. Innocent, that one is questionable. Don’t over think it, though. Have fun.
Have fun? Seriously, that’s what he tells me? Have fun?
“Babe, you okay?” Sammie knocks on the door.
I stand up, flush the toilet, and turn on the faucet. “Yeah, I’ll be out in a sec.”
Then I delete the message thread with Emmanuel and leave my phone on the basin. Taking a breath in, I tell myself it’s not as bad as I’m making it out to be. Sammie is a grown-ass man. He’s not going to care that I’m not who I say I am. Sure, he’ll probably hate me and not want anything to do with me, but he’ll get over it. He’ll get over me.
“Did you hear what happened today?” Fefe asks when I walk into the staff room. I have five minutes before my shift starts. I was hoping to sit down and make my mind numb by doomscrolling on my fake socials.
“No, what happened?” I drop my bag into a locker.
“They were shot at. Again,” she whispers.
“Who was?”
“The bosses, Mr. Bianchi and Mr. Russo. They had the little girl with them too.”
My blood goes cold.Sammie was shot at? Why am I only just now hearing about this?
“When?” I press. “Did anyone get hit?”
“About thirty minutes ago. You’d think there would be police all over or something, but nothing. And no one was hit—that I know of,” Fefe says.
“That’s good.” I nod, pick up my phone, walk out of the break room, and dial Emmanuel’s number.
“Hello,” he answers on the first ring.
“Did you know Sammie was shot at? Why wasn’t I told? Who the fuck shot at him?” I blurt out.
“Hold up. What are you talking about?”
“I was just told Sammie and Carlo were targeted out front of the Royal. They had Jazzy with them, E. Who the fuck was it? I’m going to find them and I’m going to…”
“Do nothing. You’re going to do nothing. Get over to Aces. I want you close to my niece,” he tells me.
“They shot at him, E! They could have killed him!”
“But they didn’t. When I find out more, I’ll let you know. Just watch that little girl. No one gets to her,” he says.
“Got it.” I turn, walk back into the break room, and grab my bag from my locker.
“Where are you going?” Fefe calls after me.
“I’m not feeling well. I need to go home.” I rush out without another word.
It’s not a total lie. Finding out someone took a shot at Sammie has me feeling off. I need to hit something, or someone. I need blood. I want their heads rolling down the damn street. Nobody gets to take a shot at what’s mine and live to tell the story.
Except… he’s not mine. Not really.
Chapter Twenty-Three
You know that saying an eye for an eye? Yeah, that’s what I want right now. I’ve been doing nothing but combing surveillance cameras from all over the city looking for a lead on the fucker who took a shot at Carlo.
