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“Cinna?” I asked as I caught motion at the corner of my vision.
And there she was, her body popping with stiffness as she leaned to the side to favor her screaming ribs.
“Yeah, you know, tall, pretty, two tons of attitude in a one-ton bucket,” Renzo said, making my lips curve up.
“You left out her killer rack,” I said, getting Cinna’s attempt at an eye roll at that.
“Not all of us think solely with our dicks, Dav.”
“No, man. Haven’t seen her. You expecting her for something?” I asked.
“Not in particular. She’s been working on something she’s been evasive as fuck about. Just wanted to make sure she’s good.”
“I’m sure you know Cinna. She can take care of herself,” I said, patting the couch next to me.
There was a short pause, but she eventually moved across the floor to lower down, trying her best to hold in a hiss of pain as she did so.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Just got a feeling about something going down,” he admitted.
Renzo had killer instincts. It was likely how he managed to stand on his own against all four of the other crime families in the city when they saw us as enemies before he finally united us all through his marriage to his wife, Lore Costa.
“There’s always something going down,” I reasoned, getting off the couch to grab a few of the ice packs out of the freezer. Bringing them back, I handed them to Cinna, who started pressing them against her ribs and face.
“Yeah. Would feel better if she’d at least return a text,” he said.
“She was probably working late. Might be the only person who outworks you,” I reminded him. “Probably trying to get some sleep.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “Well, let me know if you hear from her.”
“See Cinna, tell her to contact Daddy. Got it,” I said, getting another eye roll out of Cinna.
“Go on back to your warm and pretty,” Renzo said, ending the call.
There was a beat, Cinna likely choking on the words a few times before she finally forced them out.
“Thank you.”
“No big,” I said, shrugging it off. “But we gotta find your phone,” I added. “You need to at least text to check in with him.”
“Yeah,” she agreed, but gave me nothing else.
“Is there a reason you’re not telling me where your shit might be?”
“In an empty warehouse a few blocks away,” she admitted. “But what are the chances that they would have left my phone if they found it?”
“I’ll go check it out. If it’s not there, we can call, get it bricked, and get you a new one.”
“I can—“
“Keep your perfect ass planted on the couch while I go and find your phone? Yes, you can do that. And maybe, while you’re at it, you can try to get some food down too. All those meds on an empty stomach are just asking for your stomach to cramp up.”
“I think my jaw hurts too much to chew on anything.”
“Exactly why I got ice cream, mashed potatoes, and yogurt,” I said. “Pick one and choke it down.”
“Your bedside manner needs work,” she said as I made my way toward the fridge.
“Got a feeling being nice won’t get me the results I want with you,” I said, opening the door.
