Page 51 of One Filthy Kiss

I change the topic. “How did you become a bodyguard, Ric?”

His eyes flicker my way, and I wonder if he’s never been asked the question before. “Long story.”

“I’m not in any rush.”

His lips twitch into a smile. “I got in with a bad crowd when I was a lad. Leather jackets. Motorcycles. Chip on their shoulder. You get the picture.”

“Danny Zuko eat your heart out.”

He furrows his brow. Maybe he’s one of the few people in the world who have never watchedGrease. I wait for him to continue.

“It was kids’ play to begin with. We’d gather some dry sticks and light a fire on the beach, drink a few beers, smoke a few joints. Then, a couple of the older lads started getting into the harder stuff. I had no interest in landing myself with a heroin addiction, so I made excuses not to hang around with them. But I already knew too much. They couldn’t risk me squealing to their families or to the polizia, so they set me up one time. They broke into the home of a prominent family, stole something sentimental, made it look like it was me.”

“What happened?”

“The house belonged to the Sabatellis. They knew my parents. I couldn’t replace what had been stolen, but they took me in, gave me a job, and never said another word about it. They were good people, Giovanni’s parents. Honest and fair. If someone crossed them, they dealt with it in their own way, but they were good to the people they cared about.”

“Like Gio,” I say.

He smiles.

A question has been eating away at me since the first time I saw the holster Ric wears. I don’t know if I should ask, but I do know that it will continue to play on my mind if I don’t, and there are already plenty of dark thoughts trying to keep me awake at night.

“Ric, have you ever killed anyone?”

His eyes meet mine, and I know I’ve caught him by surprise.

But before he can reply, a scream reaches us from the playground. I’m on my feet in a heartbeat, scanning the climbing area for a glimpse of Amber as I run. My heart thuds when I spot her swinging from some monkey bars, one of Gio’s men supporting her legs so that she doesn’t fall.

“She’s fine, Ric.” I’m nauseous from the adrenaline rush, and I can hardly speak as I stop and turn back to Ric.

He isn’t there.

“Ric?”

He isn’t on the bench. I can’t see him outside the playground perimeter, or in the park. I turn around, studying the faces of the adults in the playground with their kids, and my attention snags when I spot a tall man standing just outside the entrance to the climbing area where Amber is playing.

Broad shoulders. Graying hair with a tiny bald patch on the top of his skull. He has his back to me, so I can’t see his face, but it’s the way he’s standing there, staring not at his own kids, but at Amber, that scares me.

My pulse spikes, and I’m running again, yelling Amber’s name as I go.

Gio’s security team is instantly alert. The guy closest to Amber helps her down from the monkey bars, her brow furrowed as she watches me hurtling towards her like a maniac.

“Get her away from there!” I yell, waving my arms above my head.

I’m sprinting past moms who grab their little kids and pull them out of my path, when Ric appears from nowhere and spreads his arms wide.

“Hey, what’s going on?”

One of the bodyguards is running our way with Amber in his arms, while others converge on us like ants around a jelly sandwich. I collapse against Ric, pointing in the direction of the man I saw.

“He’s there. I saw him.”

Ric shields me with his body, scans the playground, and turns back again. “There’s no one there, Meg.”

I peer around him, bent double and breathless, heart still thudding dully. The man is gone. “I … saw … him.”

“Are you sure it was him?”