Page 2 of Heaven Help Me

It takes all the years of training she put me through to keep my thoughts off my face. She disgusts me. The whole crime-family behavior of extracting favors disgusts me. The way they manipulate people to get what they want…it’s no way to live. It’s why I never wanted to be part of that life.

Well, that and the blood.

God, I hate blood.

I pull back the chair and unbutton my suit jacket before sitting.

“Just come out and say what you want, Betty. No need for coffee and chatting.” I wave a hand over the breakfast spread that only serves as a flimsy facade to what she really wants.

At the nickname, she bristles.

So much for not antagonizing my mother.

“I can appreciate a man who gets right to the point.”

Still, she takes a sip of her coffee, taking her sweet time just to vex me in return. My gaze sweeps across her face, taking in the new lines that have dared to carve themselves into her skin. The faint brown spots on the back of her hands that weren’t there last time I saw her. She’s aged, a feat I didn’t think was possible. Growing up, Bettina Barzetti always seemed superhuman. Above the law, period, but also above the laws of physics and aging.

She finally sets her cup down with a dainty clink and meets my gaze.

“I have a woman I need you to keep in hiding. I’ve given her a new identity as your girlfriend, and all the money she needs, but you’ll keep her safe with you at your house here.” Her mouth bends down at the corners, like she can’t even bring herself to say the name of this small town out loud.

I scoff. “No.”

Her gaze hardens. “I’m not asking.”

My mind spins, wondering what circumstances led Bettina to not-ask for my help. Why me? Why Heaven? If this is some battered young woman that needs protection, why not take her to a shelter?

“I have a life here, Bettina, one that has nothing to do with the Barzettis. You agreed to that,” I remind her.

She dips her head in acknowledgement, but doesn’t drop my gaze. “I wouldn’t be here if this wasn’t important, Deuce. Just until this situation is taken care of.”

My eyes narrow. “How long?”

“Two months, tops.” She leans across the table and puts her hand on mine. The touch has every muscle in my body tensing. “You will be highly compensated, and I’ll be in your debt.”

Now I’m frowning. Bettina admitting to being in my debt? Damn. This woman must be someone special. A celebrity? Political figure?

Fuck.

This can’t be good.

But what choice do I have? Telling Bettina no isn’t something that’s done. She’ll just force the woman on me anyway and be so pissed at my denial she’ll inflict pain in some way. Financial. Emotional. Something. The easiest way out is to acquiesce and hope these two months are over quickly. How hard can it be to have someone live with me? To pretend she’s my girlfriend?

“Tell me about this compensation,” I finally say, thinking of Papa and his recent health issues.

He’s got good health insurance through his job at the university, but not even insurance will cover some of the treatments he needs to beat this cancer. My business makes good money, but let’s be honest. It’s Bettina’s monthly deposits into my account that buy all the fancy shit I’ve taken for granted my whole life. A heftier deposit in exchange for harboring this mystery woman could be all I need to get Papa into extra treatments that can save his life and not leave either of us in a heap of debt.

Bettina snatches her hand back and smiles. It’s not a happy smile. It’s a bloodthirsty smile, the smile of a woman who knows she’s about to get her way.

“We can negotiate,” she hedges, probably wondering why I want the money. I’ll never tell her about Papa’s illness. Weaknesses get exploited, and I have no interest in serving my own father up to the Mafia Maven like that.

“A quarter mil and you owe me a favor.”

Bettina laughs. “I’m retired, Deuce. I don’t have access to that kind of money now.”

“Bullshit,” I fire right back.

“A hundred thousand, and yes, I’ll also owe you a favor.”