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Slap.
I blink the dots away as I hear Massimo making a weird grunting sound. He sounds like some of those tennis players I’ve seen on the television.
As my vision clears, I see he has one hand on Mom’s head. He is holding her face down to the side. One of her cheeks is bright red, and she’s staring at me. Her chin wobbles, and tears are streaming from her eyes. Her lips move, silently shushing me, and her eyes plead for me not to make a sound.
He lets out one long groan and reaches down between them again.
“Don’t even think about moving.” His voice now sounds croaky. He looks like he’s tying a balloon animal as he stands up and goes to walk outside.
“You move from this spot, and I’ll shoot her.” He looks up to the ceiling.
Does he mean me?
When he’s outside, Mom looks at me, tears pouring down her face and landing in a puddle on the kitchen floor. Her skin looks weird, kind of gross and sweaty. She looks a little like a wax figure, but a moving one, as she whispers, “Lake, baby, run upstairs and hide.”
I shake my head, angry that she wants me to leave her. I would never leave her, especially when she’s sad.
“Lake, you have to. Go, now. Run up there and hide before he comes back. Daddy will be back soon, okay.” Her breaths are shallow, and the skin around her lips is turning blue.
Wiping my tears away, I crawl out from the small hiding space and walk backward toward the stairs.
“I love you, Lake. I always will,” she breathes out softly as her eyes start closing. I hear Massimo’s car door slam shut, and I turn and run up the stairs but stop at the top when I hear him say.
“Enzo, it’s Lani. She’s gone and had a fucking overdose.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Blaze
Not wanting to leave Lake but knowing I need to follow Enzo’s orders, I reluctantly kiss her before I head for my truck. Unfortunately, Lake was right, being his second-in-charge now means I have to drop everything when he needs me. He was adamant that I go and check on the containers right this instant, too, so either something fishy is going on, or maybe I’m just the closest to the docks.
Zooming through the city, I take the quickest route I know, with the fewest sets of lights. It doesn’t feel right leaving Lake back at The Siren’s Speakeasy, even if the security guards and bar staff are there for a while longer.
I reach downtown in record time. Pulling up at the docks, I remove my vest and release the clip on my gun holster as I exit my truck, locking it as I make my way over to the shipping containers. Weaving in and out of the rows, I check that each container is secured as I pass it. My stress level begins to rise. There must be about sixty containers here, and thirty minutes have already passed since I left Lake. I don’t want her left all alone at the bar. I know she’s got the gun in the safe, but it’s nothing compared to the comfort of knowing she is safe at my side.
Where the fuck is this unlocked container?
When I’m seven rows deep, I round the corner, and two fists connect with my gut with the force of what feels like a Mack truck, sending me to my hands and knees.
Doubled over, heaving for air, I glance up and see these two young guys arguing about timing. Before I can catch my breath, one of them kicks at my stomach, but luckily for me, the muscles there are already tense from trying to gain control ofmy diaphragm again. The second kid attempts to kick me, but I manage to catch his ankle with my hand. I bring my other fist down onto the inside of his knee, dislocating his kneecap. He falls to the gravel with a howling scream. The move must have made my cell fall out of my pocket because I turn to see the guy behind me stomp on it, shattering the screen and rendering it useless.
My head is spinning with thoughts. Was this a set-up, or are these just two cocky idiots who don’t know who or what they’re dealing with?
As I struggle to get up from my knees, the same kid who broke my phone sends his fist to the side of my face. Cute. I’m sure it hurt his hand more than my face, though. I shove a palm directly into his sternum, which not only has him flying backward but also choking for air.
Enough is enough. I don’t have time for this bullshit, my siren is all on her own right now.
I walk over to the kid struggling for breath and realize he won’t give me any information in my limited schedule. I bend down and hold the sides of his head in each of my hands. Squeezing tightly to secure my hold, I pull up on his head, straining his spine before twisting my hands so fast he can’t even reach up to grab my arms before the snapping of his spine echoes out over his friend’s moaning agony.
Stomping over to the other kid, who’s still clutching his knee, I pull my gun from its holster, aim it straight at his head, and cock it.
“Who sent you?”
“I… I... don’t know, man. Puh… please,” he pleads.
“Tell me!” I yell, my tone reminding him that my mood is beyond murderous right now.
“O-okay! H-he told us we had to come down here. Wait for you. When you’d been here a while, we had to rough you up.Waste your time. He wanted you away from her as long as possible.”
