Page 25 of Sweet Sin
I won’t be working for the law much longer. Once Bridget finds out I was at my parolee’s house, in the freaking hot tub, while two criminals assaulted us, I’ll be fired for sure.
I let out a breath once they’re gone.
Falcon meets my gaze. “You okay?”
I breathe in gradually, trying to slow my heartbeat. “Not even slightly.”
“I know, Vannah. I’m sorry.”
“I’ll be unemployed by tomorrow.”
“Not necessarily.”
I scoff, though my heart’s not in it. “Are you kidding me? This will be all over the news, and once my boss finds out I was here with you, I can kiss my job goodbye.”
“It won’t be all over the news.”
“Sure it will be.”
“It won’t. I’ll make a few calls. Are you forgetting that my old man kept most news outlets from reporting on my situation eight years ago? This is nothing compared to that. I’ll call my father, and he’ll work his magic.”
“You think he can?”
“I know he can.” He stares into my eyes. “But Vannah, do you still want to be a parole officer? Seems like your family wants you back.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so, Falcon. I mean, that was my first thought, but then I dug deeper. My own family wouldn’t send armed gunmen to take me. I don’t know why I didn’t see it earlier. I was just so freaked out.”
“What was this all about then?”
“I’m pretty sure the McAllister family was behind it.”
“The McAllisters?”
“I guess you’re not up on organized crime in Texas.”
“I met up with a few hit men while I was in the slammer, but they tended to keep to themselves.”
“That’s because they’re told to stay out of trouble so we can get them sprung as soon as possible.”
“Savannah…” He shakes his head. “I knew there was something about you, but I never pegged you for a gun maul.”
“Because I’m not a gun maul!” I curl my hands into fists. “I wanted out of this. But the problem is I’m family. I was supposed to…”
I can’t say the words. This was right after college, and I honestly thought it was over.
But the McAllisters have other ideas.
“So this isn’t the Bianchis,” he says.
“No. My grandfather is the head of the organization. He’d never let anything happen to me.”
“What problems do the McAllisters have with you?”
I pause. I hate to even say the words, especially to Falcon, but I have no choice. “I was supposed to marry Miles McAllister.”
Falcon’s jaw goes rigid. “What?” he demands through gritted teeth.
“It was five years ago, after I got out of school. They wanted me when I turned eighteen, but my father said no. He figured they’d find someone else to marry Miles to in the meantime, but come college graduation, there was Declan McAllister, ready to collect.”