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Lynx. My mouth parted.
The biker winked then pulled away.
Redemption—Oh my God, was that Dagger’s brother? As the window rolled back up, I sat there, stupefied, praying I hadn’t imagined the whole thing. I had the needed glimpse of hope that I hadn’t royally fucked everything up. I had hope… that I could be Lynx’s again.
Pulling into a hotel parking lot, Jacopo parked in front of another valet. He was fidgety and acted nervous, looking around with wild eyes. Anything that resembled the sound of a motorcycle had him quickly peering over his shoulder.
I, too, peered around, but there was no biker in sight.
Once checked in, I was escorted to another hotel room. It was large, like the last one, and Jacopo made me sit on the couch while he closed all the curtains. I had never seen this side of him before. He even made a call, saying, “I think they know I’m here… Sir, I’m not being paranoid…” He looked at me. “No, I checked her. Nothing… Yes, sir.”
He handed me the phone. I swallowed, “Hello?”
“My darling, I will be seeing you later tonight. I’m almost to a port. Don’t fret. No bikers know where you are. They are chasing a false lead from a rooftop.”
Blinking, I was shocked Lorenzo thought I feared bikers, not him.
I swallowed again. “Okay.”
Condescendingly, he mentioned, “After your punishment,” he said punishment as if it was going to be delightful for him, “I think we can get back to our engagement. What do you say?”
If a rescue wasn’t going to happen, agreeing with anything Lorenzo wanted was safest. “Okay.”
“Good. Good.” When he coughed, I finally heard how unraveled he truly was. And it sent chills up my spine. Especially when he asked, “Can you sing to me, darling?”
My throat closed.
There was only one person I wanted to sing to ever again. For Lynx, as lyrics drifted from my mouth, I felt like a siren. One I could be proud of. Lynx may have been a hard-to-handle Vice President, but when I sang to him, he was quickly under my spell and soon fell asleep.
If I sang to Lorenzo, it would taint a memory I didn’t want touched. Not sure what to do, I looked up to see Jacopo sniffing lines of cocaine off the kitchen counter.
Taking a huge chance, and deciding to believe in Lynx, his brothers, and hopefully Dagger’s blood brother, I ended the call. I turned off the ringer and sneakily slid the phone between the cushions, hoping Jacopo’s high would calm him and have his mind elsewhere for a little bit.
I picked up a remote from the coffee table and turned on the TV. Having been babysat by Jacopo for years, I knew he liked old westerns, so I flipped the channel until I found one. It worked. Capturing his attention, he sat on the couch and started watching the show after glancing at his watch. “We leave in four hours.”
I nodded while curling up on the couch, staying as far from him as possible, and rested my head on the arm. I was exhausted. My eyes began to drift soon after. I woke to Jacopo pacing the living room in a panic, not able to find his phone.
Pretending to search the couch, I pulled it from between the cushions while clicking the sound back on. “Jacopo,” I held it up. “It must have slipped from your pocket.”
He snatched it from me, quickly studying the screen. “Shit!” He rapidly typed, then pulled the device to his ear. I could hear Lorenzo screaming from where I sat. “Yes, sir… I’m not sure what happened… Sorry, sir… Okay.”
He hung up, grabbed my sore arm, and yanked me up. “Let’s go.”
On the way to a private dock, every time Jacopo heard a motorcycle, his upper lip broke into a sweat. He was strung out. It sounded like Lorenzo was, too. Neither were operating with the flawlessness in which they usually conducted business.
Soon, I was driven to a very dark parking lot. On the other side of a barely lit boardwalk, I saw the yacht. Normally, it would have had lights blaring to show off Lorenzo’s money, but not tonight. There were only shadows. As Jacopo parked the car, it felt like this was a late-night, totally secret, and very illegal handoff.
My palms were sweaty. My heart crying and pounding. My body shook, knowing Lorenzo’s behavior was going to be ghastly. And there was nothing I could do about it. Not one biker was in sight. I must’ve imagined the whole thing with the Redemption Ryder.
Stepping off the boat were two guards, heavily armed and diligently peering about, but struggling to keep up with the man who burst through them.
Lorenzo.
Even from across the way I could see how enraged he was. He kept tugging on his suit as if unable to stop a nervous tick. He was wound tight and ready to release his fury… on me.
Marching, he pointed to me still inside the car. “You hung up on me.”
That now seemed like an idiotic decision. Tears started to spill, helplessly.
